Useless Creatures 
Philiater
Post ep fic--Roadrunners.DSR
Vignette. A Scully Angstorama.
Rating: NC-17.  I'd originally intended the 
Silent series to be NC-17, but this will do.

For my fellow lovers of Doggett in blatant 
defiance to those who hate us.
Disclaimer: Not mine, never were. They belong 
to CC and 1013.

Summary: Can one bodily invasion heal 
another?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 


We left the hospital in Utah and drove to his 
lodgings: a Motel 6 with an ice machine down 
the hall and orange curtains hanging in the 
windows. The bedspread was thin and scratchy 
against my skin when I lay down on it. 
Fatigue heavy as an iron weight made me 
sleepy. I knew he'd stand watch over me; 
He'd drive away the demon cultists should 
they try to exact revenge for the death of 
their messiah.  

It didn't occur to me to ask why we were 
sharing the room.

I woke later with pain between my shoulder 
blades and the sensation of being watched. He 
was sitting in a chair just as I thought he 
would be. Watching me. Watching me with those 
eyes.

His eyes were what I noticed first. Eyes, 
bluer than anything I'd ever seen had bored 
into me. I know you, they said. I know who 
you are.

He's too normal, too noble for me to fall in 
love with. He's damaged, but not badly 
enough. He's not one of the walking wounded 
as I am. I'm no damn good for him, so of 
course he fell in love with me.

He rose gracefully and crossed the room to 
sit quietly at my side. He waited for me to 
tell him what I wanted now that I was awake. 
Was I hungry or thirsty?

No, I said. 

He reached out and tenderly cupped my cheek 
in his enormous hand.

I told him I would hurt him, that I was in 
love with another man. Nothing, I said, could 
come of this, of us.

He nodded solemnly, and took me into his 
arms. Yes, he said, I know that. 

I know how you feel, he said as he kissed my 
forehead. I know you love someone else  he 
said against my lips. Breathing into my neck, he 
echoed my own words. I'm no good for you either.

But I didn't believe that.

I didn't believe it because he was finer than 
anyone I'd ever known, more giving, more 
loving than I ever hoped for. 

Or deserved.

His goodness radiated from him like the sun. 
He will burn me with it. He will set me on 
fire. He will destroy me.

Maybe that's why I was cruel to him in the 
beginning. If I let him tear down the vast 
walls of denial, anger, and pain I've 
carefully built around me, I will be a 
useless creature. It will make plain the 
stupidity in my life and the waste. The 
awful, terrible, wasted time. I can't allow 
that.

But I didn't resist him when he carefully 
unbuttoned my blouse and lightly ran a finger 
inside the seam. His mouth followed the 
finger, giving soft, wet pressure. This put 
my nose in his hair. He smelled of shampoo, 
cologne, and gentle dignity

I almost laughed when he folded the blouse, 
but I remembered he has reverence for such 
things. My things. 

Rough fingers caressed my shoulders and arms. 
He traced each rib as if he were mapping the 
universe. All the while his mouth was on me, 
so hot I was sure my skin would blister.

He carefully avoided the torn flesh on my 
back. Once he brushed too close, making me 
jump. He told my belly he was sorry.

I haven't told him about the baby. And I 
never will. 

One day I'll walk into the basement and he'll 
notice the unnatural swelling at my waist. 
He'll never comment on it or congratulate me. 
He'll let it come up in conversation, and 
he'll speak as if he'd known all along. He is 
a gentleman.  

He moved back up my body and unhooked my bra. 
I made a quiet gasp. Hormones have made my 
breasts tender. As if sensing this, he 
dropped kisses on the swollen flesh and 
carefully gauged my responses. When I didn't 
protest, he took a nipple into his mouth. He 
suckled gently at first, but increased the 
pressure when I asked him to. I made an 
incoherent sound and tightened every muscle 
in my body.

Wetness began to pool between my legs and I 
had to take in great mouthfuls of air just to 
breathe. 

Good?, he whispered against me.

Yes.

He gently turned me around and kissed the 
crook of my neck before easing me down onto 
the orange spread. I heard the rustling 
sounds of clothing being removed. His tie 
made a high pitched scraping noise when he 
whipped it off.

All sound stopped when the last garment was 
gone.  Big hands slid up my legs and darted 
beneath my hips. Deft fingers removed my 
slacks and underwear. I couldn't see behind 
me, but I knew those were folded too.

He hesitated, surveying his work, perhaps. I 
wondered what he saw. I wondered what he 
didn't.

I wondered no more when he began to trail 
kisses up my legs, his hands preceding his 
efforts. He was preparing me, arousing me. My 
legs separated of their own volition, 
anticipated him.

An undignified moan was torn from my lips 
when his tongue darted between my legs. A 
finger slid in, and rubbed against the ridge 
of flesh making me mindless.

He got up and positioned himself behind me. 
The first push was painful, but glorious, 
filled with splendid sensation. With great 
deliberation, he set the pace to be slow and 
languorous. He seemed to take great 
satisfaction in eliciting noises of approval 
from me.

Suddenly the need to see him was over-
powering. I pulled away from him and he 
grunted when he slipped out. Heedless of the 
pain in my spine, I rolled over, invited him 
back.

He protested at first, murmuring about my 
back, but I was having none of it. I shook my 
head and leaned forward. His erection bobbed 
in front of me. The look in my eye made him 
compliant.

With the greatest care, he eased me down and 
entered me again. Now that we were facing 
each other, I could look in those eyes. I 
could see myself again.

The tenderness that dwelt there caused tears 
to well up and spill over. He kissed them 
away when he began to move. 

I'd always thought there was something 
unbearably erotic about this position; to be 
covered in flesh, to watch the joining of two 
bodies and the pleasure that came from it.

The joy on his face was heart breaking, 
leaked out of him like water. I could taste 
it on his lips, feel in his thrusts.

No.

He was making me care. I did not want to 
care. I did not want to feel anything for 
this man. I...

The orgasm took me by surprise, caused me to 
cry out with a plaintive shout. It seemed to 
go on and on; reverberated off the cheap 
motel paneling.

When I could see again, he'd rolled onto his 
back while I lay boneless on top.

Did you...I started.

Of course, he said.

He kissed me over and over, pouring more love 
into my empty soul. I'd thought I was a 
broken vessel, incapable of holding love.

But I was wrong. I *could* fall in love. He'd 
given that back to me. My love for him was 
awful in its beauty.

I listened to the steady beat of his heart, 
the quiet of his breathing, finding them a 
soothing lullaby.

Do you want to be loved? he asked me.

Yes, I said. All useless creatures do

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

End