Title: Lessons VIII: "Joyride"
Author: MoJo
Email: MoJoBer@aol.com
Rating: R for suggestive language
Category: SR
Keywords: UST
Archive: Sure, just slap the MoJo on it.
Disclaimer: Aren't mine at all.  Belong to CC, 1013 and Fox.
Summary: Mulder learns how to rev Scully up.
Spoilers: Up to season six (prior to the season finale).  Our logic is: if
Biogenesis Part II happens in November...then Part I must happen in November,
too.  So, there should be about a five month gap between that and Field Trip. 
And just what have Mulder and Scully been doing all summer?  This is the eighth
installment of the Jori Remington and MoJo series, "Lessons," following
"Soaring."  

********

Spirit Airfield
3:13 p.m.
Sunday


I look at my watch for the third time in the last ten minutes.  My heart races
with anticipation.

Where is he?

I am standing in the center of the parking lot to an abandoned airfield, shut
down long ago.  The old control tower still stands, overlooking the runways. 
There is no one around for miles and miles.  Luckily, it is a mild day for
July.  I lean against my car, adjusting my sunglasses and folding my arms.

He has never been late for one of our lessons before.  I unfold the note tucked
in my back pocket and read it again.  Sunday.  3:00 p.m.  Wear jeans and boots.
Follow the map enclosed to Spirit Airfield.  (Kite string optional)  Mulder.

I smile at the kite string remark.  It is all I can remember from our last
lesson.  Getting our lines crossed and falling into the fresh, green grass. 
Mulder on top of me.  The weight of his body melding to mine in the warm summer
sun.  The look in his eyes, the smell of his skin, the smile on his lips.  Just
a miraculous stroke of luck that we ended up like that.  Entwined in flying
line.  Bounded together by years and years of longing and wondering. It seemed
only natural to take advantage of the moment.

I touch my lips, remembering the feel of our first kiss.  

That kiss is burned in my mind.  Lifting my head slightly up as he lowered his,
our mouths meeting in the middle.  My tongue flickering out to taste his lower
lip again, then coaxing them apart into our first kiss.  No turning back, no
second thoughts.  No bees.  He let me lead, only reciprocating fully when he
knew I would not back away.  Then, he held nothing back.  Kissing me with such
passion.  It was powerful and compelling.  And too brief.  If it wasn't for
that damn kite crashing down...

But that was another stroke of luck.  Because, to avoid its kamikaze dive, we
rolled over.  I was on top of Mulder, my thighs straddling his hips.  And we
fit so well together.  The feel of him under me was even better.  The kite
wasn't the only thing up that day.  He was just as aroused as I was. Luckily, I
was able to keep mine a secret.  It took all the strength I had not to press
down on him, to relieve some of the tension I was experiencing.  Just waiting
to be released.  

It made work near impossible for the last six days.  I could not stop staring
at his mouth.  Every time he talked.  Or when he ate those damn sunflower
seeds.  Even when I caught him smiling at me, which he did all week.   Like
there was a secret between us both that we couldn't reveal.

I had learned what those lips felt like.  What he tasted like.  

More importantly, what they made me feel.

I stare out at the parking lot, empty, vast and wide.  Wondering what I will
learn today.  

*VRRRRROOOOOOOOOM!*

I jump slightly, hearing the backfire of an engine in the silence of the field.
 I look around, as it grows louder.  My heart races.  What the hell is that?

*VRRRRROOOOOOOOOM!*

From behind the hangar, comes a man on a motorcycle.  I smile as he circles
around my car.  Probably some guy out for a joyride, reveling in the pleasure
of a v-twin between his legs.  There is something so sensual about a
motorcycle.  He is wearing a helmet and a leather jacket in the 70 degree
heat....a black leather jacket.

One I know I've seen before.  

It can't be...can it?

The man circles me again, letting the bike shift down before coming to a dead
stop.  His feet step off the pegs as he shifts it into neutral.  The engine
purrs down and he kicks the side stand up, easing the bike to rest on the
support.  Then, he dismounts and walks towards me.

I take a deep breath, folding my arms around myself.  Composure, Dana.  But my
adrenaline is already stirring.  

He reaches up to his helmet, unstrapping it carefully.  I'm about to be seduced
by Peter Fonda.  

"Hi Scully," Mulder says, shaking his hair out.  He smiles at me and I exhale
the breath I didn't know I was holding.  The moment I'd been waiting for all
week is finally here.  And from the look on his face, I bet he couldn't wait
for this lesson either.

He needs a shave, stubble peppers his cheeks.  Beneath the leather jacket is a
white, faded t-shirt.  Stretching across his pectorals.  He is wearing a pair
of 505's, hugging his legs as they taper down to the heavy black boots.  I bite
my lower lip as my eyes wander back to his face.  Dangerous.  What did my
mother say about men on motorcycles?

"Where did you get this bike?" I ask, letting my rational mind take over.  Did
he buy it?  It wasn't beyond Mulder to do something like that. 

"This bike?" he says, looking back at the red and black Harley.  "It's Byers."

"Byers!" I exclaim, not expecting that answer.  "Byers drives a Harley?"

"Yes," Mulder answers, stripping his leather gloves off.  One at a time.  "And
he's very particular about it.  I'm surprise he let me have it.  We can't get a
scratch on it, Scully."

"Do you have a license for it?" I ask, as he steps even closer to me.  He
smells like warm leather.  Rough and masculine.    

"It's a beauty, isn't it?" he says, stepping behind me.  He rests one hand on
my shoulder and leans over my other one.  His face close to mine.  "Look at the
curves on her."

"Mulder, you didn't answer my question," I tease.  I want to hear him answer
this one.  I made him get a license for my fly fishing lesson.

"Wait until you feel the throttle on it," he whispers, his hand gently rubbing
my shoulder.  "The surge of low-end torque.  The agile, light frame makes
riding very pleasurable."

"I don't know if I want to feel the throttle," I say, turning so we are almost
nose to nose.  "Unless you have a license for it."

"We're not going to do it on the open road, Scully," he says, that mouth edging
a little closer.  "Unless you feel like it."

"You don't have a license," I counter, his nose almost touching mine.  I look
up into his hazel eyes.  "And neither do I."

"Have you ever *experienced* adhesive friction?" he asks, low and seductively. 

"I think so," I answer, wondering if that's what causing my heart to pound in
my head.

"Traction," he says, moving his mouth away.  He grins, knowing he completely
avoided my question.  "It has an excellent grip on the road."

At this moment, I know exactly why my mother warned me about men and
motorcycles.  They inspire a certain wildness that I have always tried to keep
contained.  

"Want to learn how to ride?" Mulder says, reaching for the extra helmet
strapped to the back.  

"With you?" I ask, biting my lower lip.  I had a taste of a ride with Mulder
last weekend...and all I want is more.

"The old runways here are safe and open," he says, pulling light jacket out of
the leather saddlebags strapped to the back.  "We won't be on public roads.  So
you don't have to worry about breaking any laws, technically."

"How long have you been riding?" I inquire, walking over to the bike.  It
shines candy apple red and is polished spotless.  Byers must really take pride
in it.  I touch the hood and its still warm.  "I like to make sure my
instructor is qualified.  And knowledgeable."

"Actually, I haven't ridden all that much," he says, opening the jacket for me.
He moves again behind me, so I can slip my arms in it.  Dressing me carefully.
"But maybe we can learn together."

I smile.  Like last week.  It was a good thing Ed helped me out, I didn't know
much about kite flying either.  I just wanted to be with Mulder.  

"The first thing is safety," Mulder says, coming back around to stand in front
of me.  "We dress for the fall, not the ride.  That's why I asked you to wear
jeans and boots.  The jacket will protect your arms.  Here, let me."

He reaches down to the zipper, sliding the teeth in the groove.  He looks down
at me and smiles.  His fingers tug the zipper pull up slowly, his hand brushing
my left breast slightly.  It sends electricity through me, right down to my
core.

"Are you nervous?" he asks, smile still playing on his lips.

"Not really," I say.  But I am.  And it has nothing to do with the motorcycle. 
"I know I'm in good hands."

Mulder laughs slightly.  A deep, throaty laugh.  It's a wonderful sound. 
Because he's really enjoying himself.  Something that is rare, I suspect. 
After all he's been through in his life.

"Let's find out if you're born to be wild," he teases.  He lowers his hand and
reaches for mine, lacing our fingers together.  He pulls me closer, almost into
his arms as he clutches my waist.  I gasp slightly, hands resting on his upper
arms.  "Now it's time for a physics lesson."

"I thought I was learning how to ride," I say, caught off guard.  Dangerous
images fly in and out of my head.  Of Peter Fonda here revving my engine good
and hard.  I'm sure he can hear my heart pounding.  Lord knows I can.

"One of the most important principles of riding is finding where the center of
gravity is," he says, fingers clutching my sides.  "Do you know where yours
is?"

I lick my lower lip and close my eyes.  If it's the spot that's starting to
heat just below my abdomen, then I know exactly where it is...

"No," I answer, looking up at him to stop thinking about it.  Focus, Dana. 
Focus.

"A motorcycle has a very low center of gravity," Mulder continues, turning me
slowly around with his hands.  He is now behind me.  "Crouch down a little."

I do and my backside is against him now.  Fitting into certain places very
well.  Just like last week.  

"When we make a turn, we have to lean into it," he says.  "The low center of
gravity should keep the bike from dumping on its side.  So, if we are making a
right turn..."

"We lean to the right," I say, moving in that direction.  

"And if we are making a left?" he asks, shifting me that way.

"We lean to the left," I answer, as we go through the motions.  "Riding out the
turn?"

"The first time, it feels like you might fall," he whispers, holding me closer
and gently pulling us upright.  "I don't want you to be afraid of falling."

"I won't be falling alone," I say, as he releases me.  I turn to face him. 
"Will I?"

"No," he answers, with a smile.  "You won't be."

I sigh, feeling relief at the admission.  No, this isn't just a game to him
either.  And it shouldn't be.  We've invested far too much already.

He reaches for the helmets, handing one to me.  "Strap it on, Scully."

"How long have you been wanting to say that to me?" I smile, smoothing my hair
back before I slide it over my head.     

"Too long," he answers, his face disappearing slightly in the helmet.  He
swings a leg over the bike, easing backwards against the seat.  One hand
steadies the handlebars.  He pats the area in front of him, between his legs. 
"Ready to mount?"

I'm glad the helmet is hiding the color my cheeks are probably turning.  "The
bike?" I ask playfully.

"The bike," he assures me.

I take a deep breath, swinging my leg over the candy apple frame.  My rear
makes contact first with seat, then Mulder pulls me back so I am making contact
with him.  I set my feet on the floorboards, since his long legs are supporting
the bike.  My hands instinctively clutch the handlebars and I am leaning
forward slightly.  His hands hold my waist firmly.  

All of sudden, he starts bouncing the bike up and down.  I let out a surprised
squeal, holding on tightly.

"Mulder!"

He laughs.  

"You have to get a feel for the bike.  Make sure it *fits* you," he says,
stopping the rocking.  Maybe it's deliberate, but other things are rocking
against me that are definitely not the bike.  

"How does it feel?" he whispers, hands traveling from the safety of my waist to
just below my breasts.  Resting there ever so slightly.  Waiting for my answer.

"It feels good," I say, leaning not forward into the bike but back into his
touch.  

"There's a lot of power between your legs," he says.  "This has an OHV V
Evolution Engine.  And you will feel it humming. Vibrating up and down your
thighs."

"I think I already do," I whisper, my blood racing there.  I exhale, trying to
calm down and focus.  After all, we haven't even touched the starter.  On the
bike, that is.

His hands move up just a little, fingertips brushing the underside of my
breasts now.  As if he is afraid to touch me more.  Please, Mulder, my mind
implores.  You can't leave me in neutral forever.  But he is waiting for me,
like he did last weekend.  To let him know it's okay.  I hesitated last
weekend, too.  Afraid to touch him.  I moan slightly, hoping that's enough
encouragement for him.

"The handlebars are important.  Those clutches are for the rear and front
brakes.  When you are driving, you want to have your fingers over them at all
times," he says, focusing me back on the bike.  But his hands stay put.  "You
can hit the brakes any time, Scully.  And stop.  Just tell me when."

"Where's the throttle?" I ask instead, and his fingers travel upward slightly. 
He is now touching my breasts.  God damn this jacket.  If it wasn't for safety,
there wouldn't be this extra layer in the way.  Someday, it won't be there. 
His hands press into them slightly and I lean into him more.  It feels so good.
So good.  I bite my lower lip.

"Right here," he answers, his hips pressing into me a bit harder.   But then he
releases me, his hand touching the right handlebar.  He wraps his fingers
around it and twists his wrist around it.  "The power is right here.  Are you
ready?"

"I'm ready," I answer, focusing back on the bike.  If Byers only knew what was
really going on here, I bet he would not have given Mulder the keys.

Mulder reaches around me, his hands moving to the handlebars.  He kicks the
stand up, supporting us both with his legs.  "Let's ride, Scully."

I move my hands out of the way.  It looks like he's going to drive for now, so
I can watch.  He holds the clutch all the way down and starts the bike.  I
notice he is holding the front brake lever as well.  Before dropping it into
gear.  My adrenaline rushes, as the motor vibrates beneath me.  Just like he
said.

*VRRRRROOOOOOOOOM!*

My hands rest over his, grasping as we start to move.  Slowly at first, then he
rolls the throttle more, increasing our speed slightly.  I look down at the
speedometer, we are only going about 10 miles per hour.

He steers us out to one of the runways.  It is a long strip, stretching out in
front of us.  Almost disappearing out into the horizon.  Uncharted territory,
we are just now starting out on.  

I remember learning how to drive a car with Ahab.  He was not a patient
instructor, barking out orders to me and Charlie as we sat in the driver's
seat.  Each taking turns, since he was old enough to have his permit already
and I had waited before getting mine.  The thrill of getting behind the wheel
for the first time is something I'll always remember.  Learning how everything
workes, developing driver's sense and a feel for the car itself.  After nearly
twenty years of driving, it has become something automatic.  I have forgotten
how exciting it can be to learn.  

"I'm giving her just a little throttle, increasing the speed slowly!" he says,
voice loud enough so I could hear.  

The motorcycle ride itself is so much more thrilling than any car.  The rush of
air around me, the engine beneath us, the flexibility.  The closest thing to
flying, I imagine and there is an irony that we happen to be on a runway.  It
speaks of freedom and release.  We don't have a license.  We are breaking the
law.  This isn't even our bike.  I let out a another squeal.  I instantly
understand the word "joyride" now.  I'm joyriding with Mulder...

"Right turn, Scully!" he calls and I feel his hands beneath mine.  "You will
want to keep even pressure on both the front and rear brakes! And..?"

"Lean!" I shout, as he approaches the turn.  It's a sharper turn than I thought
and we lean right.  I'm scared momentarily and my heart races again. It does
feel like we're out of control.  But we aren't.  I heard Mulder laugh behind
me, as we ride the turn out, bring the bike upright.  Now we are racing down
the runway again, this time a little faster at 20 m.p.h.  Slow increments. 
That's how we'll take this.  Working up to each new level, finding the thrill
of each twist, turn and curve.

"Having fun?" he shouts, over the purr of the engine.  The sound is
intoxicating.

"Faster!" I encourage, holding on tighter.  

He laughs again, increasing our speed as he continues to fly.

*VRRRRROOOOOOOOOM!*

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

"Are you ready, Scully?" he breathes.

"I think so," I reply, feeling my temperature rise.

"You don't have to do this if you don't want to," he starts.

"I want to Mulder.  I really want to," I say, breathing harder.

"I really want you, too," he says, playing on the words. Voice suddenly very
serious.  I know he is not talking about the bike.  I feel him exhale, his body
shuddering behind me.  His hands fall to my sides, holding my waist tightly
once again.

I finger the starter, mimicking his gestures from earlier.  "Ready?"

"Oh yeah," he says.  "Open her up."

*VRRRRROOOOOOOOOM!*

I start the bike, dropping her into first.  We'd been riding for two hours
already, Mulder instructing me on everything from bore and stroke to ground
clearance.  We are both sweating, from the afternoon sun and the constant
friction of our bodies.  Now it was my turn to drive.  I am so high from the
rush already, we may both need a cigarette or two when this is over.  

"If you successfully take us to the end of the runway and back, I have a
surprise for you," he offers, as we start to accelerate.

"Surprise?" I ask, carefully rolling the throttle.

"A Harley Davidson shirt!" he answers, easing his body behind mine.  I smile. 
I'd acquired many shirts during our lessons.  I couldn't wait to show it to Ed.
"If you can master the open road like me."

"I don't get anything leather?" I ask, teasing him.  He presses his hips to
mine briefly and I feel more than just the rpm's rising.

"You'd look good in a set of chaps!" he replies.  Then he's quiet.  Imaging me
wearing just chaps, I'm sure.

I focus back on the road, letting the bike go a little bit faster.  Enjoying
the ride and being in control.  The bike bounces slightly, but steadily.  Must
have good shocks.  For absorbing impact.  Every thrust and jostle.

We near the first curve, so I can circle back around.  I feel another rush, at
danger of taking a curve.  I ease up on the throttle, reducing my speed. 
Mulder's hands go for the brake clutches, gently applying pressure.  We lean
left, moving in tandem as the bike round the curve.

"Nice!" he says, resuming control back to me.  "Next one, Scully is yours. 
Think you can handle it?"

"Think so!" I say, increasing speed slightly.  He wraps his arms around me
again, resting his body into my curves.  

I take a deep breath as the wind whips over us both.  Imaging him navigating me
instead of this bike.  Opening me up, wandering my hills and valleys and
territories that have long gone untouched.  Shifting my gears with the same
careful considerations.

"Ready, Scully?" he calls, as we near the other turn.

I nod, letting out the throttle a bit. Slowing down. We start to lean left
again. I grip the brakes, but my fingers slip from the front brake and I try to
recover.  Panic washes over me and instinctively, I clutch the rear brake.  It
locks, causing the bike to lose traction.  It begins to skew outward from the
center of the curve.  Mulder's hands fly up to the handlebars, grabbing the
front brake and trying to correct the skid.  

But we are going down.  I feel the bike shifting and the stability is lost.  

"Lay it down!" he yells, as the bike gives way beneath us both.  We are
falling, fast and there is no time to correct it.  

"Mulder!" I call, another wave of fear hits me at not knowing what to do.

"Lean into it, Scully!" He continues to apply the front brake.  Spiraling
slowly down.  I hear it scrape on the asphalt and we lowside.  Ending up on the
ground. 
 
"Scully!" he says, killing the power to the bike.  "Are you okay!"

I struggle to get out from under the bike and Mulder.  He pulls himself out,
crawling along the ground and then rolling over on his back to reach for me. 
He grabs a hold of my arm, draping me over him.  He rushes to remove my helmet,
my red hair flying out in all directions as I collapse against him.

"I'm fine, Mulder," I say, breathing hard.  I smile, letting him know I really
am fine.

He unstraps his helmet, letting it roll away.  He looks me over carefully and
thoroughly. Twelve point inspection.

"Not a scratch, Mulder," I say, still feeling exhilarated.  We are both gasping
and I feel the steady rise and fall of his chest under me.  His heart is
racing, too.  Beneath the hand resting on his sternum.

"Are you sure?" he asks, still concerned.  In all seriousness, he asks, "Can I
check you over?" 

"I dressed for the fall, not the ride," I say, snaking my hand behind his head.
He doesn't appear damaged either.  But his breathing is jagged.

He closes his eyes and I see relief washing over his features, then he smiles
up at me.  "Prepared for the fall."

I nod as I lean over him, bringing my mouth to his.  All that adrenaline is
still coursing through my veins, driving me hard.  His lips caress mine, as my
lips part to allow him access.  My leg is snugly fit between his, his hand
lightly touches my left buttock, then presses against the small of my back. 
Tracing my curves.

He tastes of adrenaline, too.  His heart continues to pound under my hand as
the kiss continues slowly.  This is our second kiss, but our lips explore the
other's with such familiarity.  We breathe in time, trying not to break contact
and I feel him shifting me over.  Now I am lying on my back, the pavement
beneath me.  Peter Fonda above me.

His tongue explores mine, tasting me as well.  His teeth graze my lower lip,
taking it playfully between them and tugging softly.  Master of the open road,
indeed.  I wipe out on my first turn...

I'm hit with a thought and suddenly break the kiss, my head falling back on the
ground with a thud.

"Oh God," I whisper, shutting my eyes tightly.

"What?" he asks, voice full of concern as he reaches for me.  "Scully..." 

"The bike," I breathe, turning my head to face the red and black metallic heap.
I open one eye slowly.  "We scratched it."

Mulder raises his head and glances at the bike.  He starts to laugh and his
body shakes.  "We did more than scratch it."

"What are you going to tell him?" I ask, supressing my own laughter and tracing
his lower lip with my finger.  Our breathing starts to resume to normal as our
engines cool slightly.  I should confer with Ed to find a better sport.  One
that doesn't require such expensive equipment.

"The truth," he whispers, kissing my fingertips.

"And what might that be?" I inquire.

"We laid it down, exploring a curve," he says, smiling up at me.  

*VRRRRROOOOOOOOOM!*



The End


I'm flunking them on driver's ed!  Now, over to you, Co-Instructor Jori! 
What's next?  

Feedback to MoJoBer@aol.com or Jori at damienma@bellsouth.net