Title: Dreaming of You

Author: dreamscatcher AKA Little Grey Girl

Rating: PG

Classification: VR Pure fluff

Disclaimer: Mine only in my dreams.

Spoilers: Passing reference to Dreamland II. Set anytime before 
Requiem really, but mid-S7 in my mind. 

Summary: Mulder reveals his secret dream world to Scully. 
It involves tinkly music and female offerings.

Author note: I actually wrote this piece years ago and 
just found it on my computer and refreshed it a bit 
(i.e. added some stuff that I would not really have 
wanted to write on a computer my parents still had 
access to. Believe it or not it was actually 
inspired by the film 'Road to Eldorado' although 
how my warped little mind came up with this out of 
a cartoon kid's film is anyone's guess. 

It's short and pure fluffiness in nature. I'd love to 
do a full-blown (no pun intended) smut fic one day but 
just too embarrassed at the moment. Sorry. 

BTW a few of my other fics are on Gossamer (search under 
both dreamscatcher and Little Grey Girl with British 
spelling). While I'd love for people to read them, 
please excuse the undue sappiness present in most of 
them given the fact that I was about 15 when I wrote 
them and therefore far too romantic for my own good.

***

This is cheating I know. I'm sorry Scully. I know it's 
not right to tell you all this when you're fast asleep 
and dreaming. But then that is what all this is about 
after all. Dreams I mean. I fobbed you off earlier 
when you asked about my nighttime imaginings, giving you 
some glib remark about Lara Croft Tomb Raider. You didn't 
seem too impressed and I'm sorry. 

Let's face it though Scully, my mind is always going to be 
on other things when you wander around my apartment at bed 
time wearing nothing more than my old Knicks T-shirt. 
You could have told me ET was at the door asking for a 
quarter to use the pay phone in the lobby and I still 
would have just stood there drooling. At you that is. 
Not ET. Although you gotta admit it would be pretty cool 
if he actually DID turn up at my apartment... anyway. 
Getting off track now.

It's your fault anyway Scully. Contrary to stereotype, 
you're the one who tends to fall into blissful post-coital 
slumber after our night-time aerobic sessions, while I am 
forced by my overactive imagination to lie awake, staring 
at the ceiling - thankfully now de-mirrored. My body may be 
exhausted (hardly surprising given what you did to me tonight 
Scully) but my mind just won't turn off (probably for the 
same reason actually). Dreams, of gun-toting-females or 
otherwise; just will not come tonight. So I'll take this 
opportunity to tell you about my favourite recurring dream. 
One that has occupied my night-time world for almost as long 
as you have. But please baby, don't judge me too harshly. 
I'm only a man after all.

I'm a god. In my dream that is before you start rolling your 
eyes at me Scully. Oh right, you're asleep. Anyway, I'm a 
god. I don't know which one but it's of the Aztec/Maya variety 
anyway. Enormous stone temples, three headed serpents, 
swathes of silk and bowing subjects. You get the general idea.

But these subjects right, they want to pay me a tribute. 
They want to please me you see and for whatever reason, 
completely unprompted by yours truly, they think that I will 
be best please by a woman.

So. Ahem. Anyway. I'm in this bed/chaise lounge kind of 
thing in some kind of temple or palace. There're silken 
drapes hanging everywhere, gold and jewels and endless riches. 
And there's this gorgeous scent in the air - exotic fruits and 
spices. The warm jungle air billowing the drape that hangs 
across the doorway to the lakes/jungles/pyramids or whatever 
it is outside. And there's music - of course there's music. 
It's a dream so naturally there's music. The tingly, lilting 
kind. It should be perfect, the perfect fantasy. But I'm terrified.

Silly I know. Ridiculous even. Even more so when I tell you why. 
There's a woman coming, coming to me. To be mine. The tribute 
from the loyal subjects to their god remember? It should be a 
wonderful erotic dream - the perfect romantic liaison. Only it's 
not you. And you'll the only woman I'll ever want.

You know Scully, even though you're fast asleep, I'm sure I 
just saw you roll your eyes.

But anyway, I'm feeling so uncomfortable about all this that 
I'm just about to jump up and confess to this entire civilisation 
that I'm not a god - that I don't want any tributes - female or 
otherwise and would they mind not killing me for my deception - 
when my oh-so-willing offering appears. When YOU appear.

You're walking through the drape covering the doorway, dressed 
in this silky blue slip thing and looking like you own the entire 
place. And your smile. That little twitching at the corner of 
your mouth that makes it quite clear that you know exactly what's 
going on and are fully in control of the entire situation. And 
there's nothing I can do about it.

You approach the bed and lean over and yes okay that little slip 
thing that you were barely wearing in the first place DOES 
happen to fall off your beautiful body at that precise moment. 
But hey, that's hardly my fault is it? It's not as if I helped 
it along or anything. Not much anyway.

So you're leaning over me, sans, well anything really. And 
naturally I'm not putting up much of a fight - well I don't 
want to be rude now do I?

But then, just as your lips are slowly lowering themselves 
down to mine, JUST as it's about to get REALLY interesting,
I wake up.

I KNOW! I mean talk about bad timing! But I cant help it - 
I always wake up just at that precise moment. Maybe it's 
schoolboy training where the best stories of teachers getting 
swallowed alive by the class gerbil always end up with the kid 
waking up at the end of the book. Or maybe it's just because it 
would somehow feel like a betrayal - even if it is with you and 
only in a dream. Does that make any sense? Probably not.

But anyway Scully, that's my dream. And you did ask. And Lara 
Croft wasn't too far off the mark I guess.

Oh but you're stirring now and I didn't mean to wake you. Okay 
maybe I did. I haven't exactly been keeping my hands to myself 
after all. But you don't seem to mind as you curl your warm 
little body into mine, all silky soft skin and dangerously 
glinting eyes, and gently press your mouth to my own.

And this time I don't wake up.

***

Fluffiness personified. Give me feedback and I'll try for 
smut next time! :)
Dreamscatcher@ymail.com