Summary: Reaffirmation. Sequel to Anne Hedonia's "Fire From Ice."

Timeline: Outside canon. A week later.

Rating: NC-17. You have to ask??

Copy: Part 1 of 1


The door was unlocked.

Was the neighborhood that safe or was he just careless? Or did he know?

Somehow the latter made more sense. He wasn't the careless type. He must have sensed it.

I haven't seen him since we got back to DC. It's been a week. He stayed out of the way while I dealt with Mulder. Mulder with his sonar system for a brain picked up on my discomfort and put two and two together. This led to a bitter argument between him and John that had nothing and everything to do with me. John walked out of the basement office and I hadn't seen him since.

Since that time I have barely been able to stay in the same room with Mulder more than five minutes. It was surreal.

I walked in the house and locked the door. The TV was on but I heard the shower running upstairs. I slipped off my shoes and headed for the staircase.

This was the first time I'd been in his house. Funny that he's the only one out of us who actually owns a home. Did I miss something? Like a raise?

I made it to the top of the stairs and followed the sounds of the shower. It had not been an easy week at work. I'd planned to unwind and relax but all I could think about was him. Not Mulder. Him. He was real in a way Mulder couldn't be. He was tangible, he was there. Far be it from me to slight Mulder, but loving him was as erratic as being partnered with him. I can no longer tolerate the uncertainty.

I meant it. I mean it. He might not be so sure of that after this week, but I intend for him to know that I mean it.

He was in the shower, his back to the bathroom door, standing there letting the water beat against him. His hands were pressed against the tiles, his face upturned to the shower head. I had a most exquisite view of his sinuous form. Clouds of steam billowed from the shower.

Quietly, I undressed. I left my clothes in a neat pile on one of his chairs and went into the bathroom.

Either he was asleep standing up or damn near. He didn't hear me come into the bathroom. I took a deep breath and slid back the door. It made a squeaking noise. I got in the shower with him. The water was hot, but relaxing.

He turned around suddenly, raw surprise evident in his eyes. "Ag--"

"Shhh!" I put a finger to his lips.

No words. They get in the way.

I took the soap and lathered my hands and began soaping his chest, remembering how I'd saved him from hypothermia and put him in range of Mulder's wrath all at the same time. I decided to forego using a washcloth and used my hands. He stared at me as I ran the bar over his shoulders and down his arms. I looked down. His penis was stiffening, rising and just watching him become aroused by my touch was arousing me. Raw feminine splendor, the purest form of power, held him enthrall. I relathered my hands and turned him around so that I could soap his back. He turned without a word and allowed me this exquisite pleasure. His muscles rippled under my ministrations and I bit back a small moan. He felt so good. I allowed myself another bit of pleasure and soaped his buttocks, liking the feel of him under my hands. A 100% real man, sure don't make them like this anymore.

He hissed. I'm sure of it.

I turned him again and lathered once more. The water was still deliciously heated and I looked into his eyes finally as I took him in my soapy hand. He gasped and put both arms over my shoulders, pressing his palms against the tiles behind my head. For what it was worth, I was trapped. I gripped him gently, soaping his penis in long, slow strokes. He closed his eyes and opened them, keeping eye contact with me. I mean this. I mean every bit of it.

I squeezed harder, liking how he felt. He was putty. My putty. Mine to do with whatever I wished. Mulder was never so amenable.

He hissed again. I slid my hand up and down his shaft, never once breaking eye contact. I turned once more to allow the shower head to rinse him off, not loosening my grip on him. The water and steam enveloped both of us and I was growing more aroused by the second.

He touched my neck and tipped my head back so that my hair was completely soaked by the water. And I was as wet as he.

"Dana--" he began, but I pressed my forefinger to his lips and shook my head. He grabbed my forearms, then slid his hands down to my waist. I locked eyes with him and they were blue flame, mesmerizing pools of cobalt. My lips parted with the intensity between us and I released my grip on his penis as it was fully erect and I wanted him to attend to me.

He grasped my waist more firmly. "Reach," he commanded, and lifted me up. I grabbed on to the shower brace and did as he ordered.

"Hold on," he said, his voice silky soft.

I held on to the shower brace and nimbly wrapped my legs around him. He held me by my waist easy, his large hands almost spanning my waist. He leaned forward and closed his eyes, licking the valley between my breasts and sighed with what I perceived to be utter relief. He tightened his hold on me and I squeezed my legs, pulling him closer.

When he started kissing and licking my tight nipples, it was as though a tsunami burst forth within me. I could not hold back my passion, my need for this man and it bubbled forth. "I mean it," I murmured and his response was to kiss my lips. The height adjustment from my hold on the shower brace put me eye to eye with him. His kiss was splendid, marvelous, ethereal. Like him. I felt his arousal hot against my belly and I could think of no better place for him to be other than in me. I moaned against his lips and his arms slid up my back.

The water beat against us, of no consequence to either him or me.

"Let go," he commanded and I dropped my arms around his neck and kissed him again. He pressed me against the shower wall and plunged into me, his wet slick heat driving me past the borders of sane and into the land of delirious. I kissed him as he thrusted into, I did not want it slow and quiet, I did not need any tenderness right at this moment. He kissed back, consciously being the calm in the storm I sought.

He paused in his skillful movements to unwrap one of my legs and scooped it into the crook of one arm, pressing his hand higher on the shower wall and opening me wider. I moaned my delight as he slipped deeper into me...aww GAWD this feels SO DAMN GOOD!!!!

"John," I squeaked. I couldn't keep it inside. I locked my fingers into his wet hair, clutching double handfuls as he tapped my walls, viciously deliciously scraping against my spot, blasting me off like a Saturn gone was I that I didn't notice I'd started to bleat like a sheep.

My climax was cataclysmic, consuming both of us, causing me to lock down on him and milk him to his own peak and he sagged against me, moaning my name over and over and over.


A good while later, we were in his bed, naked and sated only in the way good loving allows. He was on his back and I lay at the altar of his washboard abs, silently thanking God for sending him to me. His hand was entwined in my hair.



"Just want ya to know that I won't let ya go, now."


"I was gonna back away, give ya time with Muldah...let ya decide what you want--"

"I know what I want."

"--but after tonight, I can't."

"John, I know what I want. I knew then. I know now. We don't even have to discuss it."

Even though my head was against his chest, I could feel him smile. All of a sudden, my heart was light with happiness.

"Aw baby, ya got no idea..." he sighed as he pressed me closer. "What you've done to me, that is."

"I have a very good idea," I said as I pressed a kiss to his chest. "But you can tell me anytime you think I need reminding."

"Actually," he said, pulling me up so that I met his eyes, "I'd rather show ya."



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