*************************************************
JUST SAY YES   (7/10) 
jeylan@earthlink.net  
This story is rated R  -- See part 1 for headers and warnings.
*NO ARCHIVE* except by request.
*************************************************

And then there was a thundering, a rising up of sound.  An 
unhurried scale rising up and up, to come shattering down in a 
cascade of thunder and hissing.  "Oh, no!" Mulder muttered, 
groaning.  He made a move as if to cut and run, but hands reached 
out from all sides to hold him back.  Bradley took Mulder by the 
shoulders, shifted him front and center, and made a remark that 
sounded like, "It's OK, pretty boy, you can still be our *man*."

With long-suffering endurance in his eyes, Mulder stood where he 
was put, looking at Scully, and shaking his head.  "Here we go," 
he said wryly.

<Hi! - (Hi) -
<We're your weather girls - (uh-huh) -
<And have we got neeeews for you!>

Laurie and Jonathan pantomimed microphones, lip-synching the 
words, while Bradley, with his shoulders tipped the other way, 
added his voice to the asides.  

"You better listen!" said Bradley and the music --

<Get ready, all you lonely girls!
<And leave those umbrellas at home! - (All right!)>

Laurie, Jonathan and Bradley began advancing towards Mulder in a 
choreographed line.  Palms out, fingers up.  Left hips forward, 
shoo-shoo to the left.  Right hips forward, shoo-shoo to the 
right.  Palms back, sweep it to the left, sweep it to the right.  

They'd done this before.  Mulder just stood there docilely, 
waiting for them.  

<The wind is risin' - (Mmm! Rising!)
<Barometer's getting' low! - (How *low* girls?)
<According to our sources - (What sources, now?)
<The street's the place to go! - (We better hurry up!)>

The guys broke from the Ronettes routine to address their 
invisible microphones again, all of them lip-synching in perfect 
unison.

<'Cause tonight for the first time -
<Just about half past ten -
<For the first time - in history! - 
<It's gonna start raining men!>

Scully skipped back out of the way, and watched in open-mouthed 
fascination as they converged on Mulder.  They were all reaching 
for him, coiling their hands.  Singing with the music.

"It's raining men!  Hallelujah!
"It's raining men!  Amen!
"I'm gonna go out, I'm gonna let myself get -
"*Absolutely soaking wet!*"

Bradley fell heavy to his knees at Mulder's feet, raising up his 
arms and his face in supplication, invocation, reaching up --

And Mulder crossed his arms, planted his feet wide, looked 
disdainfully to the side.  He pretended complete disinterest, but 
his eyes were twinkling.

<It's raining men!  Hallelujah!
<It's raining men!  Every specimen -
<Tall, blond, dark and lean -
<Rough and tough and strong and clean!>

Mulder struck another pose, hand on hip, exaggeratedly casual.  
He caught Scully's eye.  "GQ," he said, and tipped his chin up.

Justin grabbed Scully's wrist, and pulled her into the fray.  He 
was joining eagerly in the supplication of Mulder, coiling his 
beautiful slender arms towards Mulder's face, Mulder's body, in 
gestures of poignant importunity.  But Scully just stood there. 
She couldn't do it.  She was just at the edges of it, but laugher 
was bunching up at back of her throat.  She couldn't do it.  

But she could *watch*.

Mulder turned the other way, another pose.  Very sultry and 
disinterested.  Winked at her.  

The boys were choreographed again:

<God bless Mother Nature!
<She's a single woman too!
<She took on the heavens 
<And she did what she had to do 
<She fought every angel 
<She rearranged the sky 
<So that each and every woman 
<Could find the perfect guy!>

Jonathan slid his hands under Mulder's T-shirt, and Mulder 
tightened his stomach, giggling.  They others joined in, their 
hands all over him.  

<It's raining men!  Hallelujah!
<It's raining men!  Amen!>

Mulder just took it, feet wide, hands on his hips, head thrown 
back.  Chuckling deeply.  Eyes closed.  Four pairs of hands 
groped him every place there was to grope, while Scully just 
stood gaping, trying to decide not to laugh.

<Hear - the - thun-der - don't - you - lose - your - head!
<Rip off the roof and stay - in - bed!
<(Rip off the roof and stay in bed!)>

Mulder took two steps to the left, as if to walk away.  They 
followed.  Two steps to the right.  They followed.  He batted his 
heavily mascaraed eyelashes at Scully, coyly.

Then the laughter broke open, and Scully laughed so hard she 
could barely breathe.

<The street's the place to go!
<Because tonight for the first time - (First time!)
<Just about half past ten - (Half past ten!)
<For the first time - in history!  
<It's gonna start raining men!>
<It's raining men!  Hallelujah!
<It's raining men!  Amen!>

And then an absolutely unmistakable intro --  Everyone in the 
room squealed, including Scully --  Someone cranked the music 
louder --

<It's astounding, time is fleeting!
<Madness - takes its toll
<But listen closely - (Not for very much longer)
<I've got to - keep control!>

The focus was off Mulder, and Scully wasn't laughing anymore.  
She looked at him, and he looked at her.  Was it a dare or an 
apology in his eyes?  They started to dance.

<I remember!  Doin' the Time Warp!>

"Kick!  Kick!" several people called out, and they kicked, right 
on cue.  All of them.  Mulder narrowed his eyes, but kept 
dancing.

<Drinking, those moments when -
<The blackness would hit me -
<And the void would be calling -
<Let's do the Time Warp again!>

They were dancing with their hips, jiggling with it, flirting 
outrageously.

<It's just a jump to the left -
<And then a step to the ri-i-i-ight!

Scully jumped and stepped.  Mulder's eyes got wide.  "You know 
how to Time Warp, Scully?"

She threw her head back and laughed, and waggled her fingers at 
him, tracing a big arc in the air --  

<With your hands on your hips -
<You bring your knees in tight!>

Scully slapped her knees together, facing Mulder.  He swallowed 
hard.  Mirrored her. 

<But it's the pelvic thrust ->
("Ooh-ah, ooh-ah, ooh-ah!")

They matched their thrusts, outrageously.  Mulder was looking 
more fazed and glassy-eyed by the second.  Scully, exultant, 
couldn't take her eyes off him.  Purely exhilarating, this was 
exactly the rush she remembered, this heady rebelliousness of 
dressing up and sneaking out and knowing she had crossed the 
line, knowing she could catch shit for it, but asserting her 
freedom anyway -- 

<That really drives you in-sa-a-a-a-ane!
<Let's do the Time Warp again!>

As they all deflated down to the floor at the end, letting their 
bodies fall limply like spent puppets -- "God, Scully," Mulder 
said, "Where'd you learn to Time Warp?"

At the sound of the flatulent balloon someone murmured, "beached 
whale," contentedly, and at that same moment, unexpectedly, 
Bradley rolled over on top of Mulder, full length, took Mulder's 
face between his hands, lowered his mouth over Mulder's mouth, 
and began to kiss him.  Deep.  

For one shocked paralyzed second Scully couldn't move at all.  
Everything went into slow motion.  Mulder's arms were flung out 
on either side of him, spread out on the floor.  Delayed 
reaction, too slow to please Scully, Mulder started lifting his 
hands as if to push Bradley off -- But the flat of Scully's palm 
was faster, was in fact already swinging through the air, with a 
good momentum, to impact with an audible *slap* on Bradley's ass.  
Hard.  Bradley yelped, and lifted his head from the kiss.  Scully 
was dimly aware of Mulder gaping at her, glazed and dark eyed.  
She was more aware of spanking Bradley.  She spanked him again, 
just as hard as she could.  And again.  Bradley tried to roll 
away, but she pinned him with her elbow, and brought her palm 
down again on his ass.  Scully could get to enjoy this.

Then several things happened at once:  Everyone except Scully 
cracked up laughing; Jonathan got a hold of her from behind, 
stopped her hand, and wrestled her off of Bradley; the intro 
began for "Sweet Transvestite"; Bradley rolled off Mulder; and 
the floor below them went *thunk! thunk! thunk!* as if someone'd 
hit it with a broom handle.  Mulder lay breathless and wide-eyed 
on the floor, staring at her.

Laurie went over to the stereo, and turned the music lower.  
Justin sprang to his feet, dancing and lip-synching Frank N. 
Furter.  Bradley was cowering away from her, raising his arms and 
knees as if to protect himself, and gasping, "Don't hurt me!  
Don't hurt me!" between bouts of giggles. 

Mulder was still laying there on his back, gawking with his mouth 
open.

"OK, my dear, you finished thumping him?" Jonathan laughed in her 
ear.  "Can I let you go, now?"

Scully just growled.

<Don't get strung out!  By the way I look!
<Don't judge a book by its co-ve-er!>

-- Justin set one foot on Mulder's hip, and leaned forward to 
speak the words right at her, exaggerating with his lips and his 
tongue --

<I'm not - much of a man - by the light of day ->

Jonathan was still holding her by the elbows, with one knee in 
the small of her back, and Mulder just kept staring at her, with 
incredulous, incredible eyes. 

<But by night I'm one hell of a lo-ve-er!>

Then Jonathan let her go, and at the same moment Justin shoved 
Mulder's hip with his heel, turning away with a flourish and 
strutting off, hands on hips, proclaiming with the music, "I'm a 
sweet transvestite, from Transsexual, Transylvania!" 

Mulder came up in a roll on one elbow and grabbed for her.  He 
pulled her off-balance, pulled her right down on top of him, 
chuckling deep and throaty and nervous.  "What the hell was that?  
Huh, Scully?  What were you doing that for?"  He was still 
breathless, wide eyed, his hand threaded through the hair at the 
nape of her neck.  And then he kissed her.  Or she kissed him.  
That part was a little unclear.

But then Mulder rolled over on top of her and went right on 
kissing her.  Someone in the room was clapping.  Mulder's mouth 
tasted of pot smoke, and of himself, and his tongue was hot and 
insistent in her mouth.  Flame ran through her whole body, and 
she clutched for his ass, dragging his hips greedily against her 
hips, his erection against her pelvic bone.  He groaned in her 
mouth.  The heat of her arousal ricocheted through her whole 
body, and Scully realized dimly that she was powerless to stop.  
And overlaid above that carnality, there was another sort of glow 
which radiated from her chest to her fingertips, from the crown 
of her head to her bellybutton.  And she couldn't get enough of 
him, couldn't get close enough, fast enough.  All coherence 
ceased, and the experience of breath and movement and the flow of 
blood became more like music than like consciousness.  

This was the kiss that rocked the world, the kiss that 
discomposed the rest of her existence.  The kiss she'd always 
known was coming, someday, with Mulder.  She held his head and 
kissed him deeply, as deep as she could, as if she might devour 
him.  As if it didn't matter what happened next.  And she felt 
the fluttering of the weed in her racing blood, as if she might 
rise right up out of her body now.

"Well you got caught with a flat, well, how 'bout that? 
"Well, babies, don't you - *panic!*"

-- Justin stood astride their bodies and bent his face down next 
to theirs, speaking right into the middle of their kiss --

"By the light of the night it'll all - *seem* all right -
"I'll get you a satanic mechanic!"

Scully barely noticed.  She was submerged in Mulder.  His mouth 
was hot and urgent in hers, his tongue searching out her mouth.  
He was heavy on top of her.  She was dizzy with it, pressed 
helpless to the floor, but with a feeling like flying, like she 
might fall.  Not necessarily fall down -- maybe fall up, or 
sideways, or into Mulder's mouth.  But fall.  And all she could 
do was kiss him.  

<I'm just a sweet transvestite from Transsexual, Transylvania!>

-- Justin was stalking away again --

"Hey, kids, move over!  Move, move!  Umph!" Hands were shoving at 
them.  "Come on, just roll a bit, would you?"  Mulder groaned 
into her mouth, and rolled, and then rolled again.  Over and 
under, and they came to rest by the floor pillows.  Still 
kissing.

Scully came up on top, and there were advantages to being on top.  
Mulder's hands were hot and roaming, caressing and claiming her 
whole body, pulling her tighter against him, and she was still 
lost in his mouth.  

<Why don't you stay for the night?>

"Night!" said a voice near their ears.

<Or maybe a bite!>

"Bite!"

<I could show you my favorite - obsession!>

"Sex!" said a chorus of voices, in unison, and Mulder whispered 
it into Scully's mouth -- "sex!"

<I been making a man, with blond hair and a tan
<And he's good for relieving my - tension!>

"Sex?" Scully whispered, in a voice so dry that no real sound 
came out.  She tried to look at Mulder.  His eyes were hot, and 
there was something impish playing in them.  

"Yeah, sex," he whispered.  He wiggled a little, suggestively, 
letting her feel his arousal.  And then he winced beneath her.  
"Uuf," he said softly, and twisted around to reach beneath his 
shoulder-blade.  He had been lying on top of the brass pot pipe, 
and now he held it in his palm, looking up at her wide-eyed and 
breathing hard.

<I'm just a sweet transvestite, from Transsexual, Transylvania!>

Scully tried to catch her breath, and the gears of her mind 
turned sluggishly, missing and catching.  Floor.  Mulder.  Weed.  
Kissing.  Rocky Horror.  Stoned.  Mulder's eyes, huge and dark 
and made-up, and looking deep into her soul with naked longing.  
Sweet Transvestite.  Sex.  

The possibility of love-making hovering like smoke in the air 
between them, like a tangible awareness.  Everything they had so 
long avoided was now rising up phantomlike to confront them, and 
it would be so incredibly easy just to dip her head down, taste 
his mouth again, slip her hands inside his shirt -- and forget 
the rest of the room.  Too easy.  She could make love to him 
here, and not care who watched.  But she wasn't that person 
anymore.  She hadn't let herself be that person for years, and 
never when she was with Mulder.  Shaking, Scully withdrew 
slightly inside herself.  

"Mmm," Mulder hummed, "don't.  It's all right.  Just go with it.  
Relax, Dana."  He was moving his mouth sensuously under her chin, 
nuzzling down her throat so that his beard stubble scratched her.  
His mouth was hot, and she moaned, and her eyes rolled up, and 
she was lost again.  Every touch of Mulder's hands and Mulder's 
mouth set up a flowing wave of sensations that echoed through her 
blood, and resonated harmonically in her head, her throat, her 
heart, her solar plexus, and between her legs. 

Making out with Mulder, she forgot to notice the passing of time.  
Time didn't seem to matter.  Mulder'd pulled her T-shirt out from 
her jeans to get his hands directly on her skin.  She'd worked 
his T-shirt up almost to his armpits.  Her whole awareness was 
filled with his taste, his scent, and the living, breathing 
reality of him wrapped tight against her body, stroking and 
groping her, and his hand under her shirt copping a quick feel of 
the side of her naked breast.

"Anything from the market?" asked a voice in the air somewhere 
above.  

Scully tried to pull her head together.  Room.  People.  Making 
love to Mulder here on the floor while other people talked about 
groceries. The song wasn't "Sweet Transvestite" anymore, and she 
realized dimly that it hadn't been for some time, now. 

She pulled away from Mulder's mouth, breathing hard, and 
stretched her neck to look up at Laurie.  He was wearing a coat.  
"Let me come too," she cried, and scrambled up awkwardly off of 
Mulder.  Everyone was staring at her.  She ducked her head, 
blushing, and pointed herself towards the corner where she'd last 
seen her shoes.  

Mulder, dazed, lurched up after her.


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

The air outside was a shock to the skin, like a slap.  Sobering 
and silent. The pavement under Scully's feet seemed to float 
beneath her as an freakish distance, and then to come up too 
solidly.  The heeled pumps changed her balance, and she grabbed 
the nearest elbow, which happened to be Laurie's elbow, to steady 
herself.  He clasped her hand protectively, and tucked it more 
firmly under his arm.  Mulder danced along behind them on the 
narrow sidewalk, skipping from side to side.   

"What are we shopping for?" Mulder asked.  His voice sounded 
unnaturally loud in the quiet street.  

"Breakfast," Laurie said.  "I was thinking eggs Benedict, how 
does that sound?"  

"In the morning?" Mulder wanted to know.  "Or now?"

Laurie laughed.  "Will I need to feed you before I put you to 
bed?"

"Could be."

Scully's mind was rising up out of its stupor, and beginning to 
race -- flashing images of Laurie's bed, the floor cushions, the 
cold miserable hotel room on the other side of town.  Mulder.  
Mulder.  Oh, god, Mulder.  

She flushed against the cold air, and looked at her feet, 
burrowing impulsively under Laurie's arm.  He pulled her snugly 
against his body.  She felt safe with Laurie.  He had warm, 
fuzzy, friendly energy, like a big teddy bear, and his touch 
didn't ricochet through her central nervous system, or make her 
heart race.

"Laurie, what should I do?" she whispered.

"Do what you want," he whispered back, conspiratorially.

Mulder kept trailing along awkwardly behind.  

The little corner market was stunning in its brilliance.  As they 
stepped inside, the fluorescent bulbs made a nervous throbbing in 
the air like walking through waves, or swimming in an atom-
smasher.  Scully didn't like it.  She squinted, and stood rooted 
in a corner by the dairy case.

Laurie, with a basket looped over his arm, was inspecting the 
contents of a carton of eggs, lifting each egg to check for 
cracks.  Mulder had scooted up behind him, and was reaching past 
his shoulder for a carton of chocolate milk.  He was jostling 
Laurie's elbow, bumping insistently against him.  Playing.  

Scully heard a dry cough.  A wizened old man with a grim mouth 
hunched miserably behind the till, looking out from hawkish eyes.  
Beady eyes.  Glinty, expressionless brown eyes.  The store was 
humming, and the old man was staring, and she felt a sudden, 
paranoid certainty that he knew exactly who they were and how 
stoned they were.

Feeling a little frightened, she turned to Mulder and Laurie.  
"I'm going to wait outside," she told them, but no one heard.  
Her voice was in miniature.  It never left her throat.  She 
butted right in between them, up against Mulder's chest, and 
looked up into his eyes.  "I'm going to wait outside," she tried 
again.  

And suddenly everything was obvious.  Mulder was still in full 
makeup.  No wonder the old man was staring.  

Scully almost smiled, and then her breath tangled in her throat 
and she couldn't quite look at him directly, couldn't go on 
meeting his eyes.  She tried, but she felt unexpectedly awkward, 
and shy, and flirtatious.  She felt like a girl, and Mulder 
seemed to notice, seemed to like it.  He pivoted forward, 
pressing her back against the dairy case until there was no room 
to retreat.  Still holding the chocolate milk in his left hand, 
he leaned his left shoulder against the case, and lifted his 
right hand to grip the handle of one of the doors.  He pinned her 
there against the cold glass, and took his time, leaning slowly 
forward.  His body was hot against hers. 

Her heart raced.  She glanced quickly up at him, and away.  
Mulder stuck out his tongue, and without touching his mouth to 
hers, he licked deliberately along the line of her lips, taking 
special time to tease at each corner.  Scully felt her knees 
melting, and her head starting to spin.  Involuntarily, she found 
herself stretching taller, straining for up a kiss, but Mulder, 
intent on his teasing, kept himself just out of range.  Scully 
moaned, very quietly.  Then, hearing herself, she glanced 
guiltily past Mulder's arm.  The old man was watching.  His thin, 
wrinkled blue lips were pursed.  Making a soft, nervous sound in 
her throat, Scully ducked under Mulder's arm and escaped.   

Outside, she sat down on a brick retaining wall.  She wiggled 
herself into the coldness, spreading her knees a little wider to 
let the chill seep up into the core of her body.  She 
concentrated on the cold.  The solidness of things.  Tonight, it 
was so cold that even the stars looked solid.  Staring up at the 
sky, she took a deep breath, and tried to marshal her thoughts. 

"Hiya, beautiful," Mulder's voice purred in her ear.  She jumped, 
startled.  He'd snuck up right beside her, and he was sitting 
down.  Squirming nearer.  She edged away.  

Mulder gave her a curious look from the corner of his eye, and 
seemed to catch himself.  He stopped short of reaching for her.  
He let his arm fall.

"Chocolate milk?" he offered instead, popping open the carton.  

She accepted, and drank deep.  Cold and chocolate, in a cold 
licorice and molasses night, under smoky stars.  Sitting next to 
Mulder.  She blinked.  Lowering the carton from her mouth, she 
handed it back, wiping her lips with the back of her hand.

Mulder closed his eyes, setting his lips on the carton where hers 
had been, and drank.  Then he sighed.  Wiped his mouth.  And she 
watched him, wondering if what she felt right now was only 
because of the weed.  Wondering, more to the point, what he felt.  
What he really felt.  When he wasn't stoned.  Mulder, stoned, was 
beautiful, and it would be so easy to just...

She bit back a sigh, and turned her face up again to the stars.

It was really cracking cold, and the cold milk in her stomach 
didn't help.  Her warm sweater was still lying in a heap on 
Laurie and Jonathan's floor, where Mulder had tossed it.  For 
several reasons, Scully shivered.  

Mulder saw it, and offered his arm.  He didn't say anything.  He 
didn't touch her.  He just reached for her, and his eyes asked 
permission.  Sighing, Scully edged carefully closer, and snuggled 
in under his arm.  They could do this.  It was OK to do this.  
They did stuff like this all the time.  Well, sort of.  She 
burrowed in closer, pressing her face against his chest.

"What'cha thinkin'?" Mulder asked, softly. 

"What to do with you."

"This is a hard question, is it?"

She hit his thigh, lightly, with the side of her fist. "Mul-der!"

"Well, if it were up to me the answer would be easy," Mulder 
said, in a voice that was very quiet and gravelly.  A voice she'd 
so rarely heard before.  Scully's breath caught in her throat.

"You're just saying that 'cause you're stoned," she said.

"No, I'm not."

She tipped her head, and started to look up at him -- 

"I don't know if you two love-birds have noticed, but it would 
freeze the balls off a brass monkey out here!" Laurie's voice 
announced cheerfully.

Scully and Mulder, both taken by surprise, jumped to their feet 
and away from each other like guilty kids. 

Laurie, hugging a bag of groceries, looked back and forth between 
the two of them.  Surprised at their surprise, he took his time 
noticing their blushing cheeks, and nervous eyes.  "Let's get in 
out of the cold, shall we?" he said.

And as they started to walk, he looped his free arm through 
Mulder's, and spoke clearly and quietly, in a conversational 
voice intended to carry:  "Fox," he said, "it is my considered 
opinion that you have been behaving like a perfect cad.  You 
should have swept this woman off her feet ages ago, and if you 
don't at least make a good effort at it tonight, then I don't 
want to hear one more word on the subject."

"Uh," said Mulder.  "Uh ..."

And Laurie winked conspiratorially at Scully, behind Mulder's 
confused back.


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



... end of part 7