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iamprchung · 3 months ago

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The Wan Ton Weekend

Yep, this fever-dream nonlinear narrative is back!

A long forgotten one-off that an awesome reader sought out and inspired the repost. Thanks @gloriousqueenfest!

Everyone enjoy the chaos that is Skinner/Scully!

Available on AO3

Synopsis: Scully’s weekend takes a wild turn when Mulder calls from Vegas with shocking news. What starts as a desperate attempt to stop his latest questionable life choice quickly spirals into a snowed-in misadventure featuring takeout, tension, and one very patient Assistant Director. A comedy of errors ensues—complete with misunderstandings, chaos, and maybe just a little bit of fate.

Notes: This is absolutely a Fever-Dream PWP (Plot? What Plot?) repost from the annals of X-Files SSR fiction.

I think this is the fluffiest excuse for smut there ever was. And this is written in a nonlinear narrative style that some readers may find confusing—but give it a chance.

And before I forget, because I do that frequently with these types of things, this symbol (that I hope shows up for most in this post) “福” is the Chinese symbol for “Good Luck.”

And I’m sorry – I have removed the use of the word “undulating” because—wow, could that get anymore cliché?

Music referenced and of note: Appropriately the Barenaked Ladies, ‘It’s All Been Done.’ Also ‘Pinch me’ by the same band seems appropriate as well but isn’t represented in the story.

Special Thanks: Paula and Tina (You know who you are)—your influence and beta recs are still all over this story, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. And a huge thanks to a long-time fan who sought this out and inspired me (lit a fire under my procrastinating butt) to clean it up and repost it.

Oh and that terrible cover art here is nothing compared to the original cover art... LOL.

The Wan Ton Weekend by PR Chung

January 15th Saturday Morning

"Hel..." her voice degenerated into a grotesque guttural gurgle upon answering the phone. She cleared her throat and tried again, "Hello?"

"Scully? Scully!" It sounded like Mulder, but the voice was partially drowned out by his own shouting.

"Mulder?"

"Scully, I had to call you, I had to tell you wonderful-fantastic news!"

"Okay..." she tried prying her eyes open, but it made her head hurt. She tried just opening one eye and it wasn't so bad. "What's the news..." she asked reading the time with her one good eye: two-thirty-six AM. "It's almost three in the morning..."

"Not here!" His voice peaked.

She sighed. "Mmm… kay, where are you?"

"I'm in Vegas…”

"Really?" She muttered slipping back into the fuzzy warm place she'd been swimming around in only a moment ago. "Did you get some kind of good holiday rate..." “I'm getting married!” he laughed excitedly. Scully frowned. “What?”

"Scully, listen, just listen," he was excitedly saying, "she's beautiful, she knows me- She's a Goddess!"

"Hmmm..." she murmured, "all right, I'll talk to you about it tomorrow... bye."

She clumsily pressed the off button and aimed blindly at the receiver cradle, missing. She was already drifting back to sleep before the cordless handset skittered to a stop on the hardwood floor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 福 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Watch out for the seat belt-

"Whoa-"

Something large and very solid stopped her impending decent on the pavement. Half in- half out of the back seat of the car, Scully looked up into twinkling green eyes. Joel loomed over her, like a Gap ad come to life, supporting her weight effortlessly and grinning. He was obviously amused by her predicament.

"Careful there, Dana," was all he said and lifted her fully out of the car, placing her on the ground. He held onto her a moment longer, steadying her. Was she wobbling? Well, if she wasn't, her apartment building certainly was, she thought looking past him.

"Hey, walk her to the door," Michelle called over the sound of the car radio and soft bing-bing of the open car door chime.

Scully threw a half-baked glare back at her friend, embarrassed yet thankful for the extra help in getting this guy to the door. Maybe, finally, he'd kiss her. She'd thrown all her subtle and not so subtle charms at him, willing his attention- his full attention... But she was afraid she'd had a wee bit too much at the wine bar, and just maybe, perhaps, that wasn't so attractive.

"Mademoiselle?" He offered his arm to her, and she latched onto it happily. He shut the car door and lead Scully up the walk to the front steps of the apartments. She mounted the steps almost gleefully, but he didn't follow. Still clutching his rock-solid bicep, she nearly toppled backward when he stopped at the foot of the steps.

She turned and he was peeling her hand off his arm, almost finger by finger, appearing panicked by her resistance.

"Um," he grunted as he freed himself from her, "it's… been… a fun evening," he continued, backing away slowly.

"It really was," she agreed earnestly, starting back down the steps toward him, "maybe we could do it again sometime—"

He threw his hands up, she stopped. Then, self-consciously, he smiled and lowered them, saying, "Good night, Dana."

Nodding, she smiled thinly and hugged herself against the cold that was suddenly penetrating her coat and the warmth of the alcohol. "Okay, night."

She watched as he got back in the car, returning Michelle's wave as they drove away.

The taillight's red glow disappeared from sight, but Scully stood on the brick steps listening to the fading sound of her friend's car engine, her breath clouding the cold, still air. She remained there a long while, rummaging through the freeze-framed images of the night, wondering when exactly it was that she had gone past adorably tipsy and fell headlong into annoyingly drunk.

A cat crossed her line of vision, at first there were two, but once she squeezed her eyes open and shut a couple of times it was only one little tabby. She absently watched it snake around parked car tires, rubbing and sniffing things, doing cat things, until she found it no longer interesting and went inside to go to bed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 福 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He stood there in the half open doorway blinking back at her, confounded. "Married--" Skinner started, then went on with, "what?"

"Mulder's in Las Vegas and he's getting married." She declared perhaps a little too loudly.

Skinner frowned at her and seemed to sniff the air between them. "Scully, have you been drinking?"

Her mouth dropped open, aghast at his inference- then realized she had been drinking.

"No-Y-yes- Some."

"Scully," he sighed and leaned against the door to his apartment with unaffected casualness.

"Sir, we have to stop him... I don't think he knows what he's doing."

Skinner chewed at his lip.

"He's getting married." She stressed again.

"I'll congratulate him the next time I see him." Again, her mouth went slack. Skinner straightened, agitated. "All right, what do you want me to do about it?"

"I-I don't know... Help me."

"Why don't you get his friends," he gestured past her toward the hall, "those gunmen guys..."

"They don't answer." Her shoulders sagged.

"I didn't answer," he declared, emphasizing by placing a hand over his chest, "that didn't stop you from coming over here... Did you drive here?"

"I took a cab- But your phone was busy, and… I knew—I hoped you were here at least..." her voice was beginning to take on a sort of whimpering quality.

He cocked his head, started to say something, then changed his mind, saying instead, "I was on-line."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 福 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Oh my God!"

Her head felt like it was going to explode when she came straight up from the mattress into a sitting position. Her head was pounding, her mind racing. The vague recollection of Mulder's words doing a clog dance on the foggy fringe of what sobriety she had managed to hang onto.

The bedroom was black but for the eerie red glow of the digital clock, this only added panic to her already skewed perception of time and place. She jerked around looking at the clock: two-forty-eight. What time had it been? She racked her brain frantically trying to remember what time he had called, she knew she had looked at the clock. Had only a few minutes passed? Yes, yes, just a few minutes- She went leaping from the bed, her feet tangling in the bedding...

Shards of smart pain zipped through her knees as she picked herself up off the floor, cursing the bedding, cursing the floor. Not quite done cursing she snapped on the light and headed for the closet. She caught a leg in her jeans, she cursed some more and tore a nail on the zipper—

"Shit."

She had a sweatshirt over her head before she stopped to wonder what exactly she was doing.

It wasn't like she could just jump in the car and drive over to Las Vegas, now, could she?

"Damn," she hissed yanking the sweatshirt back off, taking her pajama top with it.

Bare from the waist up she collected the cordless phone from the floor and dialed Mulder's cell phone number. All she got was the recording again and again, the monotone and android-like voice telling her the customer she was trying to reach was— Oh, hell, how many times had she been down this road?

She hit the speed dial programmed for the lair of the Lone Gunmen. The line rang twice before she realized she was half naked- She hung up abruptly. She couldn't talk to Frohike in this state, never mind that he couldn't see her- She just couldn't do it!

Jammies back on, she dialed again.

"Hello?"

Scully's heart stopped at the groggy sound of her mother's voice. She had hit the wrong speed dial number! Her mouth was moving rapidly but nothing was coming out. What to do! What to say-?

"Hello?" Now her mother was beginning to sound concerned. Oh, no, not scared even...

"Sorry," Scully dropped her voice so deep she nearly coughed, but managed to finish her baritone disguised apology, "wrong number."

The phone clutched in her hand, her heart racing, she squeezed her eyes shut against the queasiness in her stomach- the dizziness in her head. She took a quick breath, collecting her wits and dialed more carefully.

There was no answer.

How the hell could there be no answer? Weren't these three utterly nocturnal in nature? Weren't the three of them constantly on third watch- Okay, well, maybe not so much Byers, she rectified the presumption. He really seemed the most normal, the most reality-based of the three, with his neat and clean, socially appeasing appearance.

She plopped down on the bed blowing her breath out. Now who? Now what?

Her head felt like it was caught in an isolated whirlwind- localized just in her bedroom, just in the exact space her cranium occupied...

"Oh, why'd I drink so much...?" she whispered to the walls, holding her head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 福 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was just lying there, stretched out over the length of the sofa, asleep. His jaw slack with relaxation in contrast to the tension of his hand that was clutching the TV remote to his chest. His posture, his entire appearance suggested an evening of excess, although she could tell this wasn't the case. More of a night spent quietly surfing the web and twisting the heads off a few friends...

She glanced toward the desk and eyed the beer bottles glistening in the light of the television.

About six to eight friends...

Turning back, she let her eyes linger over him, hovering in absent thought over the place where his shirt had hiked up over his stomach... A flat... fuzzy... stomach. Was it as firm as it appeared? Or was that just gravity doing its thing? She had suspected at times, while in his office, that he was sucking it in every time he got up from behind his desk. He just had that look about him, like he was holding his breath... Could that have been for her benefit? Nahhhh...

Her eyes traveled over the length of his forearm, mesmerized by the thick fine blanket of dark hair, a physical feature sadly hidden by dress shirts. Her gaze followed the toned curve of his muscles. She cocked a brow, a mischievous notion striking her. A notion constructed from unfinished business earlier in her evening... Freeze framed flashes of her fingers being peeled off that guy’s arm... What the hell was his name again?

Skinner stirred.

Scully caught her breath, beginning a nervous little dance in place, knowing she should go but somehow not being able to pry her eyes off his body.

Too late—

Skinner opened his eyes, and her heart crammed itself into her throat.

Looking a bit dazed he glanced around until his focus fell on the television... without ever noticing the shape hanging motionless at his feet. Rediscovering the remote in his hand he reached out with it, shutting off the TV.

The room went dark. Scully took relief in knowing she was completely hidden now; all she would have to do is slowly start back stepping before he ran over her in the dark.

Step, step-

She saw him coming off the sofa, his figure blotting out what scant city lights there were beyond the balcony window blinds. As though magnetically drawn, he headed straight toward her— of course he had the advantage of knowing his way around his home in the dark, knowing the placement of his furniture- but Scully, on the other hand, did not.

Trying to get out of his way before the inevitable collision she back stepped quickly and immediately into the end table.

Aside from being aware of the rattle and crash of everything on the table, and the table itself tumbling over, Scully realized she was going down with it...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 福 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Scully, just go home," he told her without much ceremony. "He'll be fine. It's not like he's in any immediate danger other than one wicked headache in the morning..."

Her feelings of immediacy were beginning to wear off, or perhaps it was just the alcohol that was wearing off. She knew he was right; Mulder wasn't in any danger. Why had she been so panicked anyway?

"Can I use your phone?"

"Wha- Why?" More irritation seeped from him.

"Well, I told the cab not to wait."

"Don't you have your cell phone?" He didn't mean for it to sound the way it did. It was more concern for her safety, her ability to call for help if need be, rather than a reluctance to let her in to use his phone. But what he meant and what she had heard were obviously two very different things judging by her expression. "Fine... Yes, you can use..."

"No," she shook her head. "No, thank you. I wouldn't want to disturb you any further."

She plucked her cell phone out and held it up for him to see, then walked off unsteadily down the hall.

Without a second glance he shut the door.

Damn it.

His hand was still resting on the door handle, the guilt already starting to prick at his guts. Wrenching himself away he walked across the living room slowly, drawing a hand back over his head. He could have at least offered her a ride home... He glanced over to the desk, eyeing the empty beer bottles sitting next to the computer in a sad neat row. Perhaps he wasn't running around jumping to conclusions in the middle of the night, but he didn't believe he was in the best shape to be driving either.

He went closer to the desk, studying the computer screen for a moment, his thoughts no longer on the images tiled there. Somehow, letting a less than straight Scully stagger off into the night (the snowy night, he amended the thought with a glance toward the balcony) had deaden his interest in fake nudes of Shania Twain...

Damn.

He switched off the computer without going through the hassle of shutting it down and went to the balcony, sliding on his bare feet across the slick tiles, stopping himself at the rail short of going over the side. Recovering, his heart still thudding from the near miss, he looked down, seventeen floors to the street, searching for a sign and found, with a stab of responsibility, a tiny little red-headed figure huddled against the cold.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 福 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Snowflakes landing on her face, Scully glanced up at the high-rise, eyeing the sparse sprinkling of lit windows across its face and wondered for a moment if she should have done this. She turned back and looked at the cab driver, "maybe you could wait for me?"

"I will have to run the meter, miss lady." The dark man called back over the seat to her in a thick and ambiguously foreign accent.

She had already poured a fortune out, and her cash on hand was limited. "Um, okay, never mind."

She lingered on the sidewalk, peering up again at the building wishing she could stop swaying long enough to count up to his... Surely she would be able to figure out which of these hundreds of windows belonged to Skinner... She grabbed her head to steady it, stop the spinning, the pounding.

After the world was fixed again she headed off toward the entrance ignoring the fact that she was still wholly uncertain about coming here. He hadn't answered the phone either, but it had rung busy, so at least she knew he was home. But what was Skinner doing on the phone this late and for so long?

The line rang busy again even as she traveled up in the elevator.

She put away her cell phone, noticing the battery needed a serious charge.

Maybe he took the phone off the hook, she thought heading down the hall toward his door. What if he's taken the phone off the hook to get some sleep— What if he's got... company? She suddenly thought, her knuckles wavering just a hair away from knocking.

She bit her lip and forged ahead, rapping the door hard.

There was a long beat before she heard the tumblers turn in the lock.

She tensed, batting away the intense urge to shut her eyes.

The door came open on a man she might have never recognized in a line-up as her superior; without his glasses, bare foot and wearing baggy gray sweats and a faded navy tee shirt with stray threads jutting out from where there used to be sleeves and a jagged tear from the neckline down that created a "V" the manufacturer hadn't intended.

Staggered, her eyes widened.

He was scowling at her, but her eyes had roamed away from his direct gaze and lit on the hint of chest hair escaping the homemade V-neck.

"Scully, what are you doing here?"

She jerked her attention back up.

Taking him in on the whole, she swallowed hard finding that she really wasn't quite sure now why she'd come all the way over here in the wee hours of the morning and through the falling snow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 福 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ass over heels, she went with a "Whoop!" Crashing down, her feet flew up and she felt her foot smash something, and heard Skinner let out an undeniable "Oof!"

What in God's name had she kicked? She miserably wondered as she tried to pick herself up off the floor in the dark.

The lights came on— track lights running the length of the living room ceiling— like stage lights and she was the center attraction.

"Scully?" Skinner all but yelled, one hand still on the light switch across the room, the other cupping himself as though shielding them from further attack.

"I-I couldn't see when you turned off the television." She explained.

"Well, what the hell were you doing anyway?"

"I wanted some aspirin?" It came out more of a question than an answer.

He was staring at her as though he couldn't believe his eyes and she realized her tee shirt- his tee shirt- was hiked up around her thighs exposing the crotch of her emerald green panties.

She yanked the hem down, scooting back out of the wreckage of his end table.

"Watch out," he warned, suddenly coming toward her in a sort of stumble. "There's glass here-"

She just missed putting her foot right on the jagged piece of colored glass that had been a.. a candy dish or... well, something only moments ago.

"I'm sorry... I'll replace it."

Gingerly picking glass from the carpet Skinner shook his head, grunting, "I didn't like it anyway."

She looked at a shard she'd collected for him and wondered aloud, "what was it?"

"An ash tray."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 福 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Great."

She had only just started to dial the cab company's number when the battery died on the cell phone. She checked the lobby for a pay phone, there were none. Stuffing the cell phone back into her coat pocket she looked out the front doors to the bare street out in front of Skinner's apartment building, curious as to what her chances of a cab passing by were.

She went out and stood at the very edge of the awning, looking up and down the street through the falling snow. There wasn't a moving car in sight.

She held herself against the cold, analyzing what the hell could have been wrong with her- coming all the way over here when he hadn't even answered. Sure, the busy signal had told her he was home, but what had she expected, Skinner to eagerly start packing his bags?

She huffed at the stupidity her drinking had blanketed her in.

"Scully..." She turned to see Skinner standing in the doorway. He'd thrown on a jacket and loafers, no socks. "Just stay here," he said to her humbly, "it's too late to be crossing town."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 福 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Sir?"

She was at the door, softly knocking.

The cursing, the grunting had increased to the point where she could no longer ignore it and became concerned, suspecting he had gotten a piece of glass in his foot.

When there was no answer she called again through the door, "sir, are you all right-?"

The door came open. "Yes," he breathed, standing on one foot.

"You have glass in your foot, don't you?" she asked, eyeing his impression of a flamingo.

His breath left him in a low, long hiss of resignation. "Yes," he said refusing to make eye contact.

"Do you need help?"

Rather than nodding, wrought with indignation, he swung side to side and hopped back into the bathroom.

"Sit down," she needlessly instructed as she took the tweezers from him. He gave the toilet a leery glance, he didn't need to say anything. She sighed gesturing toward the tub, "sit there, then."

Looking unmistakably miserable with the situation he sat down, still making no eye contact.

"Which one is it?"

"The right," he answered propping his ankle across his left knee. First, before allowing her to see, he looked at the bottom of his foot, grimacing. "It's really in there."

Scully fit herself between the wall and his foot, leaning in to see what she could see, thinking how huge his feet were... You know what they say about men with big fee... Shut up!

She tucked her hair behind her ears and went to work. “Do you have any alcohol?”

“Haven’t we had enough tonight?” he cynically asked.

“Rubbing alcohol…” she explained opening cabinets in search of something to sterilize the tweezers. “Left side, I think…”

Coming back, she winced. "This is probably going to hurt a little," she warned him.

"It can't hurt any worse than when I put my weight on it."

He was wrong.

When she dug into the skin he'd already torn at trying to dislodge the shard he flinched, losing his already precarious balance and started to fall. Scully went to steady him precisely as he blindly grabbed for support. His butt slid off the tub side just as he latched onto her, his weight dragging her with him backward.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 福 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"How many?" She looked at him, striking a blank.

"How many aspirin do you need?" He asked her again, gesturing toward her with the open bottle primed to dispense pills.

"Just two," Scully answered, her jaw dropping immediately—she could have sworn that she saw his mouth move, saw him mock her. “Just two…”

"Tap or ice water?" He grunted, handing her the pills.

"Tap," she answered and watched him get a glass and draw the water.

He was really very gracious despite the way he was grinding out every question. He'd invited her into his home rather than let her cross town alone late at night. He'd given her his room for what was left of the night. Even giving her free reign over his dresser drawer with the instructions to wear what she wanted; she had carefully picked through the neat stacks of tees and sweats but only found a shirt long enough to cover her, no matter how she had tried (and she really had) his huge sweat pants wouldn't stay up over her tiny hips.

And what thanks had she shown for all his kindness— ogling him while he slept, crushing his end table and breaking his knick-knacks? It was no wonder he was growling like a big surly bear.

She could have always said no, she mused heading back upstairs to the bedroom.

Why hadn't he offered her a ride home? Too late for one reason, but more certainly because he too had been drinking. Drinking alone and in front of the computer. She climbed into the bed thinking of how really very sad that picture was.

Shifting in the bed, feeling out of place, and not so much uncomfortable but nervous. She was now lying in his bed, her skin against the same sheets his body touched. The sheets were crisp and clean, and this almost surprised her. She had known a few single men and their beds; the sheets were rarely changed if they were lucky or mindful enough to own a second set of bedding. The bedrooms were another story altogether; smelling of dirty clothes hampers or some obscure source of mildew. Skinner's room smelled good, like sandalwood or cedar, warm and inviting, maybe even a little mysterious.

It was all around actually; on the bedding, in the pillows, dusting the shirt she wore.

Her cheeks began to burn as she languished in the mysteries of Walter Skinner's scent, drifting sleepily down the stairs to the sofa, to his side...

A knock sounded at the door suddenly.

It was soft, unintrusive to the point that she believed he thought she was already asleep.

She said nothing, staring at the door in the dark.

A moment passed before the door came open slowly, soundlessly and Skinner's silhouette appeared, cut in the dull light from downstairs. Holding her breath, her body flushing with nervous anticipation, she watched him enter the room- come toward the bed... She caught her breath shakily, preparing for... And he kept going, right past the bed and into the bathroom.

When the lock clicked she sat up and hit the mattress, mouthing a curse as the light came on in there, slipping out under the door in a sliver. Dowsed desire turned to curiosity as she listened to the hushed sounds from in the bathroom: drawers and cabinets opening and closing, rummaging and shifting. Then, what had started quietly grew louder, the level carefulness dropping dramatically as the search, for whatever it was he was hunting, became more deliberate and concentrated.

Curses began slipping out from under the door.

Then, silence for the longest time.

Okay, well, she couldn't just listen like this, she decided and laid back down pulling a pillow over her head. Give the man some privacy for God's sake...

"Damn it!"

Scully came up off the bed again at the sound of the curse.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 福 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A tangle of arms and legs, struck at inconceivable angles, Skinner and Scully tumbled into the tub. He caught the full brunt of Scully's weight atop him, his head going back from the force, smacking the tiles hard.

Once the initial shock wore off, he groaned dully.

Scully could fell the vibration of his voice, it was hard not to the way she found herself pressed between him and the tub side; her nose smashed into his armpit, her shoulder twisted down and half under his weight, her left leg still over the tub side while her right was shoved precariously close to his crotch pinned by his thick thigh. Although not entirely an unpleasant experience, pinned against his body this way, except for his arm pressing into her ribs like she was lying across a telephone pole.

She realized extrication was a must... and it wasn't going to be a simple matter.

"Pull..." he started to say as they began to work together on this puzzle, "no, can you just...?"

He was trying to scoot back and help her up, but there was no leverage to be found.

"You... turn toward me," she instructed hopefully.

After a great deal of grunting and struggling, attempting a good deal of care not to pinch, squeeze or otherwise injure (or offend) either of them, Skinner could clearly see only brute force was going to do the job.

"Hold on," he warned.

She hesitated, leery of what he was about to do. "Okay," she timidly answered.

He as well was hesitant, aware of the dangerous proximity of her knee to his genitalia. If he wasn't precise, if he didn't calculate his move just right...

Prudence abandoned, he heaved himself toward her, turning on his side. The move shifted Scully onto her back, jarring her teeth and sending her left foot into the air- slapping the shower handle full to C!

Ice cold spray blasted them, Skinner taking it full in the face while Scully caught it through-and through over her back and butt. Gasping, shocked, a living exhibition of approach avoidance, they scrambled clumsily away from the icy deluge while at the same time kicking at the handle together. Somehow, more luck than accuracy in aim, Skinner caught it just right and the glacial rain cut off.

The drain drained and the shower head dripped its last drip. What seemed the length of eternity passed in silence; each sound amplified a hundred-fold.

She was soaked.

He was soaked.

Scully fought off shivers, almost afraid to look up at him.

His face was covered with wetness, droplets of water beaded on his bare scalp rolled down over his creased brow and into his eyes. Squinting, he licked the water from his mouth and said, "Just one less thing to do in the morning."

Her laugh came out in a robust burst.

"You had this planned, didn't you?" He accused her, beginning to laugh as he reached up to wipe water from his eyes.

"What?" She laughed.

He shook his head, a broad, unconditionally uncharacteristic smile spreading across his mouth.

"This reeks of a scheme..."

She giggled, a motion that set her body shuddering against him.

His smile suddenly waned and she slowly stifled her merriment. He looked down on her, his eyes growing dark and fixed. She felt his leg pressing more firmly against the cleft between her legs and caught her breath, thrown by the intense response.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 福 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"...Mid-level disturbances over this area, so we won't be seeing a change for at least a while."

The weather report wasn't promising.

It was downright awful, but Dana Scully had nowhere she needed to be- except for right where she was.

She stretched herself long and hard, luxuriating in the coolness of the sheets against her bare skin, delighting in the cause of her soreness, her exhaustion. Nowhere, she thought again and rolled herself up in the bedding, turning from the television to the window. Nowhere at all but right here, she smiled seeing the morning light creeping through the blinds.

"You better not be asleep." She turned back seeing Skinner coming into the bedroom, balancing a plate of- what all she couldn't tell in the bad light.

"I'm not," she grinned and sat up, watching him come around the bed, high stepping clumps of shed clothes and discarded towels. She reveled, watching him stroll before her, magnificently bare, seeing full well that he did not have to suck it in.

He stopped suddenly and seemed to hop sideways, as though he'd stepped on something unexpectedly.

"What is it?"

He searched the floor in the dark for a moment, and then said, "I think I'm going to need to have my carpets shampooed."

Scully covered her mouth, but the laugh came out through her fingers. "I'm sorry."

He blew his breath out. "Takes two to tango," he chuckled, climbing back in bed beside her, careful not to spill the contents of the plate. "I hope left over Chinese is all right."

His feet were cold, and she jumped when they touched her leg under the covers.

"Sorry," he apologized handing her a fork and napkin. "The kitchen floor is like ice."

"Just like the rest of the area," she said around a cheek full of what she thought was Orange Chicken and pointed toward the TV. "Weather channel says it's only going to get worse before it gets better."

"The weather channel always says that" he replied, intently trying to load his fork with fried rice. He carefully brought it to his mouth, cupping one hand beneath the wobbly heap- only to have the rice cascade into his lap a hairbreadth from his lips.

"Let me get that for you," she said putting her fork down and taking the plate from him, smiling mischievously as she leaned over toward the spill.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 福 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He considered her for a drawn instance, a low hum escaping him, a sort of "hmmm," as if he were pondering what it was going to be like, relishing in the anticipation, resisting the fascination.

Water dripped from his chin onto Scully's lower lip.

Slowly, with full eye contact, she flicked her tongue out and lapped it away, tilting her head back, her chin up.

What more invitation did he need?

Something snapped- all good sense- wisdom and care tossed aside...

Startling her, appearing more to fall rather than making any controlled descent, Skinner covered her mouth with his, stealing her breath away. She moaned in sweet surprise and heard him echoing her sound, feeling his weight press against her, his fingers plunge into her hair.

She gathered herself up closer to him, fretfully freeing her arms from under him to throw them around his neck. His fingers tangled in her wet hair, his palm pressing against her scalp urging her more deeply into the kiss, his tongue parting her lips.

Urging was needless, her entire body was singing.

In a furious sudden gesture, he drew back, rearing up onto his knees, his back straight, his torso stretched and towering over her as he yanked his shirt off. He threw it wantonly from the confines of the tub, looking after it as it hit the floor, then back down at Scully. There was a deranged look in his eyes and his mouth- his jaw, was working in his furious deliberation to continue.

With singular strength she never believed herself to possess, Scully lifted her torso and peeled the wet tee shirt off over her head. Dropping the garment over the tub side she left her arms up over her head, stretching her body out before him, arching her back and thrusting her pelvis into his groin, offering herself fully.

"Hmmm?" She questioned him, her eyes half lit and beckoning him.

A brutish growl issued from deep in his chest, his answer his hands dropping onto her stomach, his fingers raking down across her hips and hooking the band of her panties...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 福 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Again, with the "Oof!"

Scully straightened and could have sworn his eyes were crossed. Some dark mischievous part of her nearly laughed at the sight.

Misjudging distance, Skinner reclined perhaps a little quickly, a bit too eagerly accepting her offer to clean up the spill of rice in his bare lap and promptly banged the back of his skull against the headboard.

"God," she declared just looking at him dumbly, "are you all right?"

He rubbed his head, blenching.

"Couldn't be better..." he replied and after a moment he looked at her with a wry smirk, "but I think we need to begin immediate medical procedures to reduce swelling..."

"Really?" she grinned, and without breaking eye contact began to caress the inside of his thigh.

He scrunched down into the bed, closing his eyes and taking a shuddered breath as her fingers traveling lightly over his skin and brushed ever so softly over his hair, teasing every she passed over.

Blood coursing, he began to throb and reacted to the sensation by thrusting his hips up with the desperate hope of making full contact with her hand.

"Hold on a second," she abruptly said, suddenly taking her hand away and turning from him.

Complete and unendurable frustration overwhelmed him. "What-Where are you..."

"I've got to get rid of this plate before we're rolling in Moo Shu..."

"I've already got rice all over me, what difference does..." he broke off, she was already off the bed, clearly not listening to him.

He blew out a tremendous gust of air, feeling like he would explode.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 福 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The bathroom mirror reflected their frenzied dance, and they liked the quick, transient snatches they caught of their own images; clumsy and bungling scrambling, groping and grabbing, sordid and guileless- the starved served a feast.

Interruption came but once when all but the sink faucets were savagely cleared from the counter top, swept aside— a shower toiletries clattered to the floor.

Scully squeaked; the countertop cold against her bottom when he deposited her up there. Her legs spread and wrapped around his waist, her hands roamed his back with rash swipes, her fingers digging into his flesh in anxious response to his fiery touch. She rubbed herself against him, realizing it was his stomach she was slicking her juices and tried lowering herself as much as the counter allowed.

"Wait," he breathed prying his mouth from hers, his hands from her breasts.

He grappled with the band of his sweatpants, trying not to put his full weight down on his foot- they hadn't quite gotten around to getting the glass out, exactly. Fevered, she reached down to help free him, working blindly with her face buried in his chest, her hands tangled with his.

Maybe a little too anxious, she jabbed him with a thumb nail in the process of stripping him bare, causing him to jump and take a step- pressing the sliver of glass home.

Yelping, hissing, he brought his foot up and hopped back trying to catch hold of the door jam.

Scully covered her face, unable to bear watching him fall out the door, his sweats pulled down around his knees. Once she heard the thud, the unmistakable sound of his full weight hitting the floor, she jumped off the counter to her feet.

"I think someone's trying to tell us something..." he panted, flat on his back and staring up at the ceiling, his exposed erection struck up like a spire.

She looked at it in light of the bathroom; thinking the only thing missing here had been a “boing!” sound effect.

"I can't hear anything," she whispered, dragging his sweats the rest of the way off before slithering along his outstretched body. "How's your foot?" she asked him and deliberately let a breast graze the dew dolloped head of his penis.

"What foot?" he muttered reaching down to capture her under the arms and hauled her fully atop him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 福 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rice brushed from himself and the sheets, his brief consideration to take matters into his own hands was interrupted as she collapsed into the bed beside him. Without hesitation, leaving no room for any further interference, he gathered her up in his arms and rolled over, pinning her beneath his weight.

He heard her catch her breath for the umpteenth time, the sound propelling his excitement, invigorating his want.

He bathed her neck with impatient kisses, plunging down over her collar bone to her breasts, first flicking at her nipples with his tongue then suckling as he wedged his knee down and eased her legs apart. He slipped a freed hand between them, touching her, slicking his fingers in the wetness, tracing the sensitive skin surrounding her folds, feeling her body instantly react.

Gulping in air, she strained against his weight, trying to rock herself against his fingers.

He satisfied her desires, separating her, slowly exploring, seeking and learning the map of her body, the places he would touch that caused her to shudder.

She caught her breath, and he knew; beneath his fingertip, hard and like the tinniest, he brushed and pressed, in rigid circular motions. Alert to her every breath and motion, he increased and decreased the pressure, savagely keeping her on the brink of orgasm.

"Please," she begged him, her body writhing with blind yearning. "I want you in me so bad..."

Hearing her breathy plea, the nastiness of her statement, he groaned as a whole new level of arousal surged through him. "You're so wet..." he exclaimed, dragging ragged breaths in as he positioned himself between her legs, almost unable to see straight.

She had already opened herself to him, pumping herself upward repeatedly, rocking her hips. "Fill me up again, please..."

"Oh, Christ..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 福 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

January 16

Sunday Evening

The snow had stopped falling, but the melt was far off...

The balcony enclosure was packed full of fluffy white that blanketed the city. According to the news the airport could reopen soon, flights were delayed of course, but at least people would be able to get back into DC if they had so desired to travel during the three-day weekend- those lucky enough to have Monday off...

* "... You were right, I was wrong. You said good-bye, I said goodnight...

It's all been done. It's all been done..." *

Music was blaring from in the living room.

Scully had the stereo turned up high and was dancing around the furniture carelessly.

Skinner had come out of the kitchen ready to scold her, demand her to lower the volume- God knew he'd had enough happen in this apartment to piss the neighbors off- but seeing her flinging about in his dress shirt, bare buttocks exposed with every twirl, he just couldn't bring himself to do anything other than go to her.

Nearly forty-eight hours together without a break, out of control and not giving a damn about the consequences, and her ability to ignite his hunger with a single word or gesture had not diminished

* ".... It's all been done. It's all been done!" *

He heard those lyrics and thought how nothing could have been more appropriate for the occasion, as he glanced at the hand cuffs dangling from his right wrist, then, his bareness, unable to remember exactly when he'd had clothes on the last time this weekend.

It had been too long for the two of them, that fact was more than obvious. They had gone beyond good judgment, thrown all caution to wind and had some of the best sex he could remember ever even contemplating. Good, fantastic, ungoverned, gleeful all-over-the-place, rug burn, clear-the-kitchen-table, chafing, leave-your-DNA-sample-at-the-door sex.

He caught her around the waist from behind in mid twirl, spinning her the rest of the way around, pulling her to him and kissing her in a motion so fluid, so natural, it surprised him.

She swayed in his embrace, returning the passion, her tongue exploring his mouth with all the delight of their first kiss, tasting him as though for the first time. An overwhelming sense of renewed longing rapt her, and perhaps it was that all the eagerness, the unbridled impetuosity gradually tapered and left between them unhurried tactile study, a savoring of the kiss that had suddenly taken on a decidedly tender and compassionate bearing.

* "If I put my fingers here, and if I say "I love you, dear"..." *

Something changed then. A tug, a pull, a touch, a caress... Something shifted, and all the wildness disappeared.

They parted, gaping and staring at one another, shocked and dismayed. In an instant the unpleasant knowledge that their time together was coming to an end passed between them. He touched her face, traced the curve of her neck and chin, feathered his fingers over her cheeks and brushed her hair back from her face, searching her eyes, studying her face as if to memorize every nuance.

She sighed softly and closed her eyes, enjoying his touch... until the handcuff clipped her clavicle. She shrunk away, whimpering against the unexpected pang.

"I've got to get these off before the delivery boy gets her," he told her, smoothing over the area the cuff had hit.

"He won't be here for a while in this weather," she said and grinned as she coaxed him to the floor with her.

She laid back flat on the floor looking up at him with a smile. Fumbling against the dangling cuff he worked to unbutton her shirt. Finished, he drew back the folds slowly, baring the smoothness of her torso, the fullness of her breasts, the cinnamon tuft of curls covering her inviting mound.

Her skin tingled with pleasure and anticipation as he ran his hands languidly over her stomach, her ribs. Closing her eyes, she moaned softly when he reached her breasts, pulsations coursed through her lower body, stifling her breath. Sightless, instinct driven, her hands went to him, passing over the incredible heat of his body, lavishing in the feel of his skin against her palms, the tickle of soft hair that trailed up his stomach, the texture turning coarse as she reached his chest and the well-defined swell of his pecs.

Enraptured, she inhaled sharply, feeling him slipping his hardness torturously slow over her, flirting penetration, slicking up and over her, discharging through her a fierce jolt of pleasure. She surged up, thrusting her hips toward him, sensing him trying to back away, knowing he wanted to make the moment last, but she couldn't wait.

Surrendering, he dipped into her, filling her, pushing deep inside. She was burning him up inside her, swallowing his strength as she constricted her muscles around him, drawing him to the brink of climax. Needing her to join him, wanting her to climax with him. As if sensing this, she reached down where they had become one, stroking herself, equaling his rhythmic strokes within her.

Staggered, half moans issued from her throat as she tilted her head back, feeling the wave of tightness beginning in her stomach, the seizure crawling through her insides, drawing the muscles of her vagina so taut for a brief moment she felt as though she could lose control, the sensation so intense.

Concentration shifted to a perverse level as they surged together, driving each toward orgasm with more forceful thrusts, matching the harshness of their ragged breathing. Paralyzing in suddenness Scully felt herself succumbing. She gasped in response to the twinges, the liquefied heat of him pumping his orgasm deep inside her.

His strength drained he collapsed over her, finally lowering his torso from its rigid up right position, bracing himself on his elbows. The sudden move caused him to slip from her and sent a shudder through them both. He buried his face against her neck, his breath was hot across her shoulder. She shivered as little aftershocks raced through her.

He muttered something and despite the closeness of his mouth to her ear, she couldn't understand him. "What is it...?" she wheezed a little, her hands absently messaging his shoulders and back, perspiration across his back cool to her touch.

He lifted his head just enough to speak, his voice spent, "I said, what have you done to me?"

Feeling flattered, she offered a breathless giggle in response and ran her fingers over his head, feeling the perspiration on his bare scalp, the dampness along the sides as she raked through his closely cropped hair.

She was beginning to sense a possible rug burn along her spine and tail bone when he finally lifted his weight from her and rolled to his side facing her, still touching her body with his. They laid together content and tried to ignore the stereo blaring music through the living room around them. For the moment this was their private oasis, a patch of earth untouched by any other than themselves—

Rambunctious, cop-like knocking suddenly erupted through the front door.

That was, of course, except for the delivery boy.

Invigorated with a new energy, Skinner came off the floor as if caught in the act- well, nearly- snatching the throw rug from the easy chair, wrapping it around him as Scully sat up pulling his shirt back together over herself. "Where's my wallet..." he began muttering, hunting blindly around without his glasses.

"The kitchen bar- the counter thing," she stammered and pointed toward the dining area. "Over there, I think."

He staggered forward, his legs quivering as he called toward the door, "just a minute!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 福 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the door came open he wasn't quite sure what to think, or say for that matter. Was there really anything he could say?

The epitome of disheveled, Walter Skinner stood in the open door looking back at Mulder with what hair he had standing straight out from his head as though he hadn't combed it all weekend, a throw rug precariously wrapped about him and a wad of money clutched in one outstretched hand that just happened to be sporting a set of cuffs.

Mulder stared back at his superior, awestruck.

"Uh," he said trying to process this quickly, get past it even quicker, "I've, uh, been trying to call you since Saturday, but your phone's been busy."

“I’ve been on-line." Skinner shot back, unruffled- outwardly.

"For two days?"

"I was downloading a big file."

“Must have been some big file…”

"Do you have enough mone—" Scully appeared and jumped, her question bitten off at the sight of Mulder just past Skinner's arm. Dumbly, she actually jumped back behind Skinner for an instant, hiding from her partner.

Mulder took a step back, a lop-sided grin smeared over his mouth. "I guess this answers that—"

"Mista' Skinna'," a voice came from behind Mulder and made them all jump.

A fresh-faced young Asian man poked his head around the corner, grinning immediately and holding up a huge brown bag. "House of Wang," he announced.

"You got that right," Mulder muttered.

Skinner shoved money at the delivery boy and snatched the sack from him.

"Lots of extra wonton for you, Mista' Skinna'," he declared graciously and started counting the money. "You’ve been very good customa' this weekend."

"This is wrong on just so many different levels..." Mulder muttered, shaking his head at the scene playing out before him.

"Thanks.. thanks a lot." Skinner's cool facade was beginning to crumble as he handed the bag off to Scully still cowering behind him.

Pleased with his tip, delivery boy gave them all a quick salute and was gone.

The silence stretched to the breaking point between the three of them before Scully finally poked her head out form around Skinner to ask Mulder, "Did you get married?"

He shook his head, shifting his gaze between them for so long that Skinner was ready to shut the door in his face if he didn't say something soon— Then, finally, shaking his head, Mulder pursed his mouth a thoughtful instant before he told them with an air of whimsical denial, "there's just really no good way to end this, is there?"

Skinner shook his head. "No."

Mulder nodded, thoughtful. "I guess if I say 'I'll see you at the office' that would only intrude on this situation?"

Scully nodded, hugging the delivery bag. "Yes," she said.

Mulder nodded, reflective, then, stepping back from the door, smiling as he went, he said, "enjoy the wonton."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 福 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~ Done. Over. Fin. ~~

~~ A crack PWP production by PR Chung ~~

#The Wan Ton Weekend #skinner scully #walter skinner #the x files #xfiles #the xfiles #skinner #scully #xfiles fanfic #skinner scully fanfic #mulder #skinner x scully #fever-dream fic #smutty little fun romp

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