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Auto Erotic Humiliation (2 3)



9:35 a.m., January 25

FBI Headquarters - Washington, DC

Assistant Director Skinner
looked up from the file folder he was holding. "'Stories',
Agent Mulder? Is this a joke?"

Mulder glanced at Scully for a
second, then turned back. Dark bruises flowered completely around
his neck, disappearing into his collar. "No sir.
Stories."

Skinner pulled both reports out
and scanned them again, shaking his head. "All right. I'm
going to assume these are serious accounts of whatever happened
last night and treat this as a murder attempt on one of my
agents. This is what you had in mind?" Both agents nodded.
"I couldn't help noticing, Agent Mulder, a few missing facts
from your report. For instance, the name of the woman who may
have tried to kill you."

Mulder sat up a little
straighter. "I would rather not divulge that at this time,
sir."

"Well, it makes the
investigation just a little bit tougher when I have to be on the
lookout for "a blonde woman", Mulder. I'm going to have
to ask for her name, her address, where you met her, in fact any
information at all about her that you may currently be in
possession of."

"Sir, I'm not certain that
she was trying to kill me and revealing her identity at this
point might endanger her life from other sources."

Skinner turned to Scully.
"Agent Scully, do you have any information to add to this?
I'd rather not have to cut one of my agents down to put him in a
body bag. It reflects poorly on my end-of-year report."

Scully looked at Mulder, who
stared impassively back. "Sir, everything I know is in my
report."

Skinner leaned back in his
chair. "Well, I'm at a loss as to what, exactly, you expect
me to do now. Are these really the reports you wish to
file?"

"We wanted you to be
apprised of the situation and aware of our investigations,"
Mulder answered.

"Consider me apprised. Now
if you'll excuse me, Agent Mulder, I have work to do. Agent
Scully, I need to see you for a moment."

Mulder gave Scully a sidelong
look as he left the office. Scully raised her eyebrow minutely,
but said nothing as Mulder shut the door.

*********

Personnel in the FBI offices
turned to stare as Mulder and Scully walked past. Mulder rubbed
his throat absent-mindedly. "It's like coming to work with
the world's largest hickey," he muttered.

"What now?"

"I need to go talk to her.
Can you run a check on the contents of the glasses and the vial
and make sure you were right?"

Scully smiled.
"Sure." She reached in her briefcase and produced a
sheet of paper. "Chloral Hydrate, Mulder. In the vial and in
one glass. Yours. I assume yours was the one without the
lipstick."

"Never assume,
Scully." He smiled at her restraint. "Raspberry would
not be my choice, though."

"All right. So, do you
want to have her brought in or would you rather we visit her for
a private interview?"

"I prefer to handle this
alone."

"Since you're the victim
in this, I believe that is unwise. Besides," Scully snapped
her briefcase shut, "I am under strict orders to not let you
out of my sight."

***********

Washington traffic was never
the best to drive through and the snow wasn't helping. Mulder
kept most of his attention on not plowing into the car ahead of
them while he answered Scully's questions. "Her name's
Marita. Marita Covarrubias. She works at the United Nations. She
should be there now. I met her when I was checking out that clone
farm."

"So that was the woman you
had me get you the address for? I pimped for you?"

" Don't worry, you'll get
your cut."

"So why would she try to
kill you?"

"We still don't know for a
fact she did. Maybe she was just trying to loosen me up."

"Are you suggesting it was
date r*pe?"

"No, but... it doesn't
seem right. She's helped me in the past and she seemed supportive
of the truth."

Scully stared straight ahead.
"The truth is, she tried to kill you."

"I mean, perhaps she was
trying to get information from me and things got out of
hand."

She just looked at him.
"Do you really believe that, or are you just trying to
believe that?"

Mulder stared straight ahead,
his voice betraying none of his inner emotion. "I want to
believe."

*************

The Office of the Special
Representative to the Secretary General had no record whatsoever
of Marita Covarrubias ever working for the United Nations in any
capacity.

**************

They pulled up in front of a
Georgetown townhouse and stopped. "Just let me talk to her
for a few minutes."

"Mulder, it's freezing. I
did not come along to wait in the car."

"I'll leave the heat on.
You can play with the radio. Let me see if she's here. I promise
I won't drink anything."

Scully considered it, then
glanced at her watch before crossed her arms. "You've got
five minutes. Go."

He hurried off. She watched him
approach the front door and ring the bell. A moment later the
door opened and Mulder stepped inside.

Long minutes passed. Scully had
her hand on the handle when Mulder came back out. He walked back
to the car, opened the door and sat down heavily.
"Well?"

"The lady moved out, not
12 hours ago. Said she had a family emergency."

Scully slumped in her seat.
"Fancy that."

Mulder held up a slip of paper.
"She rented it under the name 'Julie Engels'. You want to
run the check or shall I?"

A quick call to Records
provided the following information; 'Julie Engels' moved here a
year ago from Ramsey, Indiana, she is 30 years old, she works as
a temp for the United Nations secretarial pool, and her credit
listing included a motel room rented 3 hours previous.

************

11:40 p.m.

Dew Drop Inn, Washington D.C.


The Dew Drop Inn was a
collection of 15 small efficiency bungalows. 12 of them were
vacant. One contained a visiting Pakistani couple, one
(presumably) contained Julie Marita Engels Covarrubias, and one
now contained two FBI agents.

Scully looked at the bed
dubiously. "Did you request a waterbed?"

"They all have waterbeds.
I think we were the only guests who wanted to stay longer than an
hour." He jumped onto the bed and rolled with the wave
action. "Fun," he grinned.

"Of late, I question your
idea of fun, Mulder." Scully walked to the window and peered
across the parking lot at the room containing Marita. "How
much time do you want to give her?"

Mulder walked over and peered
over Scully's shoulder. "We'll give her some time. I think
someone else wants to talk to her."

She turned and looked up at him
in surprise. "Who?"

He shrugged. "Conspiracies
abound, Dana."

"Conspiracies or your
imagination." She turned back toward the window and their
target. It was going to be a long night. She sighed and reached
for the phone book. "Pizza?"

**************

The front door flew open and
Marita was there, still wearing the trenchcoat from the night
before. Mulder gave her a brief smile.

"What are you doing
here?"

"We need to talk. We need
to clear up any misunderstanding."

"Misunderstanding?"

She nodded. "There are
things beyond all our control."

He stared at her for a moment,
then shook his head. "You're claiming a conspiracy?"

She laughed. "Not
everything is a 'conspiracy'. Sometimes things happen because
nature dictates it." She smiled and then she was gloriously
naked, holding her arms out to him. He rose from the bed and met
her in a desperate embrace, kissing her hungrily as she clutched
at his clothing. She pulled away just enough for her purposes,
leaving him with his shirt open and pants down. Mulder's penis
was pointing up in a lazy arch, bobbing as he moved. Her eyes
followed it as if hypnotized. Roughly he pushed her against the
wall and entered her in one brutal motion, slamming back and
forth again and again as the audience roared its approval. As he
reached between them to squeeze her breasts, Scully screamed as
she shuddered in orgasmic... Me? What am I... ?

**************

Scully woke abruptly, feeling
cramped and awkward. She had nearly curled into a fetal position
on the bed, her back hurt and there was something uncomfortable
under her cheek. She laid there silently for a moment with her
eyes still closed, trying to gather her thoughts and somehow get
herself under control. Her heart was beating wildly, and she felt
the blood rise in her cheeks as she became aware of other, more
intimate signs of her reaction. 'My God, what brought that on,'
she wondered. 'I've never had dreams like that. Well, yes, I
have, but never that... forceful.' She took a deep breath and
caught herself starting to rub her thighs together. She stopped
immediately, horrified and aroused, and forced herself to lay
perfectly still. 'There is no way I will ever let Mulder see me
like this. I will get up, go to the bathroom, calm down, and get
past this.' Her plan decided, she opened her eyes and realized
she had fallen asleep in Mulder's lap.

She looked down the length of
his legs to see the tv turned to a basketball game. He hadn't
moved or made a sound, but he seemed tense. And then she realized
what was she was laying on, and why it was so uncomfortable.

'Oh, my God,' she thought.
'Please, please, please let him be asleep.' In perhaps the
bravest action ever performed by Agent Dana Scully, FBI, she
carefully lifted her head away from Mulder's tented trousers and
looked him straight in his eyes. His open eyes.

"Good morning,
Scully," he said carefully. His steady gaze never left hers.
She looked down while she pulled herself into a sitting position
next to him, ignoring the feelings in her body.

"Morning. What time is it?"

"About 3. No signs yet, I
think she's settled in for the night. I ran a check while you
were asleep, she hasn't made or received any phone calls."
He stretched and yawned, a move which (cooincidentally?) let his
knee rise up to cover any evidence. Scully glanced back up in
time to see him watching her face. Was she still blushing?

In the few times she had
allowed herself to imagine anything intimate happening between
herself and her partner, Scully had always known she would meet
him as an equal, giving and receiving in a loving and challenging
relationship. Instead she found herself flustered and on the
defensive, the same way she did in almost all their
investigations, and it kindled a slow anger inside her. Okay, she
knew nothing about alien abduction, telepathy, spontaneous
combustion or ghosts, but dammit she wasn't a teenager!
Frustration, physical and mental, goaded her into being more
direct than she would have dreamed otherwise.

"Mulder, whatever
possessed you to hang yourself from a ceiling fan?"

He winced and shifted
uncomfortably. "Be reasonable, Scully, the light fixture
would never support my weight."

"For once, I need a
straight answer, and I need it now. I'm going up against an enemy
who knows more about you than I do and she's using that knowledge
to kill or at least discredit you, and I think we're adult enough
to talk about this."

Mulder smiled. "You're
beautiful when you're angry."

"I'm trying to protect
your life, I can do without the jokes for right now. Did she
force you to do that or is this an everyday thing?"

"Look, we should get some
rest, we... urk!" He started violently as Scully, eyes
flashing, thrust her hand down and firmly grabbed the front of
his pants.

"Now that I have,"
she said through clenched teeth, "your undivided attention,
I would appreciate it if you would answer the question."

"Dana, I... ow! Um, it was
an experiment," he said, quietly. He thought for a moment.
"Do you remember Clyde Bruckman?"

"The psychic insurance
salesman?"

"When we were driving him
around I was trying to get him to talk about how he could
"see" people's deaths, and he looked at me and started
talking about how undignified auto-erotic asphyxiation was. I'm
still not sure if he was joking."

Scully cocked an eyebrow.
"So you decided to find out. Did he sell you
insurance?" She caught herself. "No, we're being
serious. So how did that lead into...?"

"Something about psychic
predictions has always bothered me. For someone to be capable of
accurately describing an event in the future, it would require
that the event has already happened in a fixed and immutable
manner and that nothing I can do can affect it. Of all the things
I believe in, Scully, predestination is not one of them." He
shifted slightly. "I don't like something or someone else
controlling my actions."

"So you picked
masochism?"

"Not as a lifestyle
choice, no, but as a way of proving that I could come through
this and defy my 'fate'."

"Mulder, I feel I should
point out a few things. One, that Bruckman did not say when this
would happen if it happens, two, that all you've proved is that
you didn't die this time, and three, that this still to my way of
thinking does not justify nearly killing yourself in a sexual
encounter with a woman whom, according to you, you hardly
know."

He shrugged. "That's
probably where the drinking part came in. We got to talking and
she asked if I had any fantasies. For some reason that popped
into my mind. I wasn't serious, really, but she seemed to like
the idea and, well..."

"Did it never occur to you
how stupid that is? Mulder, hundreds of people die every year in
these sorts of misguided 'accidents'!"

"It didn't start out like
that, it just, I don't know. What with the last few cases and the
stress we've been under I haven't been thinking too clearly about
my personal relationships. It appears to be a failing of mine. At
least she didn't try to bite my neck."

"What?"

"Nothing. Scully, I feel I
should point out something."

"And what's that?"

"You're stroking me."

Scully looked down in surprise
to see that her hand had, almost of its own accord, been lazily
caressing the bulge beneath her fingers. She stopped stroking but
left her hand there and looked up into piercing grey eyes.
"Mulder," she began.

Gunshots shattered the window
above them. They dove off the bed in opposite directions before
the glass finished landing, Scully drawing her gun while Mulder
crept up to the window sill. The sounds of a car acreeching its
tires on gravel akmost overrode his cursing. "She's
gone," he said.

Scully peeked up from the side
of the bed. "Who fired the shots? At whom?"

Mulder turned away from the
window and slumped to the floor. "Well, now we get to start
over." They looked at each other across the scattered
bedclothes.

"Damn."

Continued in Part Three




End of Story