DISCLAIMER: X Files belongs to Chris Carter and 1013 productions, Dr Who to the BBC and Stephen Moffatt. I just thought the two lovely ladies deserved some time alone.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Written for the FemSlash Advent Calendar :: Dead of Winter 2011.
SPOILERS: Set after Mulder disappears, Dr Who timeline up to end of current season.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
FEEDBACK: To jo.raine[at]ntlworld.com
Hardly Begun
By Celievamp
She wasn't so much an X File as much as a whole drawer. Filed under S for Song with a cross reference to P for Pond, D for Doctor and T for Time Travel. She was also a shape shifter it seemed as the three pictures of her on file were radically different. And apparently someone for whom the linear time stream was just a theory.
She turned up in places she had no business to be, mostly alone but sometimes in the company of a tall thin man, or with a young red headed woman in tow and once or twice with an older dark haired woman with an eyepatch and a cold air of menace. Mulder had amassed a ton of theories about her and her links to the Alien Conspiracy over the years and she was a pin-up girl for the Lone Gunmen. Dana had made something of a study of River Song over the years though she had never seen more than a glimpse of her, bouncing curls and the flash of delicious curves under a leather coat, a saucy wink and a pouting air kiss as she stepped off the edge of a building or vanished in a flash of white light.
And now she is here. Pressed up against her in a closet. Dana can smell her perfume, her leather jacket, feel the warmth of her breath against her cheek, the brush of her curls. She is whispering under her breath, and that crisp British accent is driving Dana insane.
Outside the closet, something that looks like a bipedal rhino on steroids is tearing the place apart and it could only be a matter of time before it gets to them. Dana could only hope that Doggett and Reyes had got out of the building or found somewhere safe to hole up. The wooden door a few inches away from her face shudders under an impact. Whatever it is, it's right outside. And River Song chooses this moment to get up close and very personal, pressed up against her back.
A slender long fingered hand cupped her sex through her pant suit and that damnably sexy voice whispers in her ear. "Tell me, Agent Scully – are you packing?"
"Back holster – nowhere near where you've got your hands, lady," Scully said crisply. There is a delicious, low and frankly dirty giggle and the fingers lingered a moment or two longer. Scully tried not to react. Then the fingers were at her waistband, trailing around under her jacket to reach her holster. Her shirt had ridden up a little at the back and she could not hold back a gasp as cool fingers trace over her bare skin.
"Oooh, what else have you got back here – handcuffs, why Agent Scully, how did you know that I'm exactly that kind of girl."
She's given up all pretense of retrieving the gun. Her hands are cool on the bare skin of Scully's back. Somehow she found and traced the ourobouros tattoo on the small of her back without being able to see it although as far as Scully's aware there's no discernable difference in the tattooed skin, certainly not to the touch. Then her fingers are skimming over Scully's ribs and tracing the edge of her bra. A small part of Scully's brain wished she had worn something less utilitarian. Her top is inching up and River is inching down, nuzzling at any bare skin she can find. The space is tight but somehow she is turned round and her shirt is undone, hanging open, River's tongue tracing across the top of her breasts and catlicking the beads of sweat that have gathered in her cleavage. Scully's hands have begun their own journey through the thick curls of River's hair as the clasp and zip of her pants is undone and they are pulled down around her knees as River follows them down.
This is not the way this investigation was supposed to go.
River's tongue was oh-so talented, one moment stroking powerfully across her centre, the next the barest of touches teasing at her clit. River suckled it two fingers pressing into her as she began to hum deep in her throat the vibration enough to send Scully over the edge. She falls and River catches her effortlessly.
It is getting increasingly stuffy in the closet but at least the creature (a Judoon according to River) seems to have given up and gone somewhere else. Perhaps Scully's 'in the moment' had scared it off. There had certainly been a particularly piercing quality to it. The two women sprawled across the small space, Scully curled in the space between River's bare legs. She can't see River's face but she knows that she's wearing that smile again.
"So, Agent Scully," the possibly alien woman purred. "Next time… let's find somewhere a little more… salubrious."
"There's going to be a next time?"
"Oh, I would think so," the throaty laugh sent shivers down Scully's spine. "I think we've hardly begun, you and I."
Getting dressed again in the limited space afforded by the closet was slightly more awkward than losing the clothes had been. River fiddled with a wide leather cuff on her wrist, a watch that Scully is fairly certain is no such thing. "We should be safe enough," she announced, applying a fresh coat of lipstick. "The nearest lifeforms are two floors below us. By what I can read of their weaponry, I think they are your people. And that's my cue to leave."
Skinner must have got worried and sent in back-up. "Doctor Song, I…" River reached for her for one last kiss.
"I really must go. And I'm sorry to do this, but it gives you plausible deniability and you'll thank me later."
There was a flash of light and she was alone. With a click, the closet door swung open. Dana Scully staggered out woozily, her legs giving way under her as she slid gently to the floor, a blissed out smile on her face, River Song's last kiss still fresh on her lips.
The End