Title: A Pearl Beyond Price 

Author: mimic117

Email: mimic1172@gmail.com

Rating: NC-17, no doubt, no fooling, no kiddies

Category: S

Spoilers: None for the show. This is the third (and hopefully 
last) entry in the Train Up A Man universe. You should read that 
one as well as When He Is Grown in order to understand this.

Summary: Two special women in Mulder's life finally meet.

Keywords: MSR, M/O waaaay in the past, so don't panic.

Archive: Absolutely. Wherever you like, although I'll do 
Gossamer and Ephemeral myself. Please try to keep all three 
together so interested parties don't have to hunt.

Disclaimer: Sheee yeah, right! Not *even* in my dreams. 

Author's Notes: I really hadn't planned to turn the original story 
into a series, but y'all had different ideas. I appreciate all the 
encouragement and abject begging. Special treat for OTC -- you'll 
know it when you see it. Now can you lay off the stalking for just 
a little while, Kat? I promise to work the others in somewhere 
else.

Thanks: To Sdani and Jake for the best tag team beta on the 
net. It doesn't hurt that you're working on smut, does it?
And to XochiLuvr and Jake for trying to find me just the right 
title. Stubborn bugger, aren't I?


A loving heart is the beginning of all knowledge.
   Thomas Carlyle

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


A Pearl Beyond Price
by mimic117


I can't believe I'm sitting here, listening to Mulder and Sherri 
replaying old times. I've wanted to meet her ever since Mulder 
told me about their summer together when he was twenty, but I'm 
finding this a bit more difficult than I expected. I have no 
legitimate reason to be jealous or uncomfortable -- I know that. 
Whatever they had in the past is over now. They're just two long-
lost friends getting reacquainted. I've never seen Mulder smile so 
much. He looks relaxed, and happier than I can ever remember. I 
think the problem isn't that I'm feeling left out, picturing them 
together at that age. It's more that I can see them too clearly in 
my mind, now that I have Sherri's face to go with the stories 
Mulder told me. 

And visions of them together are having a very unsettling effect on 
my anatomy.

Eating lunch at this little restaurant was a good idea, rather than 
standing by that hot dog cart while people milled around us, 
eavesdropping. At least here, I can hide my reaction under the 
guise of eating and listening to them talk. Their memories have all 
been very innocent. They're both too adult to discuss anything 
lurid in front of me, and I'm grateful for that -- I'm remembering 
Mulder's stories well enough on my own. I just wish I could 
concentrate on the conversation long enough to block out the 
images that keep springing to mind. One moment I'm on the 
verge of jealousy because Sherri taught him things that I'm now 
benefiting from, and the next, I'm being turned on by thoughts of 
those same benefits, with all their attendant sensations! I just 
don't know how I should feel about this.

"Fox, do you remember the raccoon you tried to evict from the 
attic?"

"God, how could I forget? That was one supremely pissed animal. 
And huge! I swear it was as big as a German Shepherd."

"I never knew anyone could descend a ladder as fast as you did 
except in the movies."

"Roof to ground in three seconds flat. No way was I staying up 
there with a pissed off, hissing mammal baring its teeth at me. 
Have to admit, that particular move has come in handy since then, 
what with having to run from crazed killers on a regular basis."

Sherri has a really nice laugh. It makes you want to join her, even 
if you don't know what the joke is. I've seen Mulder slide down a 
ladder with his feet outside the rungs, so I can just imagine how it 
looked to her. All I have to do is visualize young Fox in jeans...

Oh God. I wish I hadn't thought of the jeans. When I asked 
Mulder once why he doesn't "dress" under his jeans, he explained 
about Sherri's aversion to underwear. That's when he got used to 
going without, at least when he's dressing casual. He can't very 
well hang free and easy inside his dress slacks, just in case we 
end up in a foot chase, which seems to happen with irritating 
regularity. So I never knew about his little secret until we became 
intimate and I had reason to check out his underpinnings. I love 
how his eyes roll back in his head when I snake a hand inside his 
open fly. I wonder if Sherri enjoyed doing that, too? I'd like to 
ask, but I don't suppose it would be appropriate lunchtime chat 
between casual acquaintances.

Mulder told me a lot about what she taught him that summer, 
probably in more detail than he intended. Once he started talking, 
it just poured out. I don't suppose he's ever told anyone else 
before. It's not the type of subject that's likely to crop up in 
idle conversation. I feel very honored that he was comfortable 
sharing such intimate memories. But now the other person in those 
memories is sitting right in front of me and, damn it all, I'm 
finding myself wanting to know more about her experiences with him. 

"Did you get rid of that cranky, beat-up lawn mower or did you foist 
it onto the new homeowners?"

"Mom bought a brand new riding mower when the house sold. 
She said it was a thank you to the buyers for taking it off her 
hands."

"What?! After I spent all summer coaxing that thing to run? 
Yanking my arm half out of the socket every time I had to start it. 
Pushing it over two acres of thick meadow weeds twice a week, 
babying it along while it coughed and wheezed and threatened to 
die every five minutes. I can't believe she did that."

"But think about all the new muscles you had when you left, Fox. 
More than you got from just swimming laps."

"And the sore ass muscles, too. Don't forget all the pulls and 
strains the first few weeks until I got used to shoving that mower 
everywhere."

Damn. I wish he hadn't mentioned his ass. Just last week we had 
a major ass epiphany and this really isn't the time to be thinking 
about that. But I can't seem to stop myself.

I know Sherri introduced Mulder to anal sex, because he told me 
she did. That was one story where he didn't go into great detail, 
but I got the impression it was a most pleasant experience. I don't 
know if he ever explored that subject with anyone else, because 
we've never discussed it any further. The change in our 
relationship is still so new that we didn't start branching out into 
more adventurous possibilities until recently. I don't know what 
possessed me to even consider anal sex. One minute we were 
enjoying a sweaty tumble, tangled in the sheets, and the next...

The anal vibrator was a gag gift at someone's bachelorette party. 
It was so long ago, I don't even remember who was getting 
married. But naturally, I was the one who ended up with the anal 
probe. When I got home, I hid it in my nightstand drawer, where it 
migrated to the very back with the emery boards and lint balls. I 
must have seen it back there recently without consciously 
realizing it. It's funny the things your mind will dredge up when 
you're not paying attention.

We were engaging in what is commonly known as a sixty-nine 
position, but what I usually refer to as "Put that long tongue of 
yours to good use, Mulder." Most times, we take turns, but that 
day I decided I wanted in on the action, too. So there I was, 
sprawled upside down on Mulder's stomach, checking out his 
equipment, while he was paying attention to all the right places. I 
pulled his knees up and put his feet flat on the mattress -- the 
better to reach that lovely bundle of nerves behind his testicles -- 
when suddenly I realized what a wonderful opportunity it was to 
explore someplace I'd never been before. The long-forgotten anal 
probe flashed into my mind, and before he could yelp out a 
protest, I'd scrambled off his body, retrieved the tiny sex aid, and 
was back in position with a tube of Astroglide in hand. I don't 
think he knew what was going on until I pressed the slender tip 
against his anus. 

I fully expected him to fling me on the floor in the process of 
getting out from under me. I'd never met a man who liked having 
his back entrance touched. They seemed to think it meant they 
were gay if they liked the way it felt, so I figured this would be a 
failed experiment. Mulder's entire body stiffened, but the little 
ring of muscle immediately relaxed, as though it was something he 
expected. He never even questioned what I was doing. Rather 
than forging ahead, I looked back over my shoulder to study his 
reaction. 

Mulder's eyes were huge. His mouth had dropped open, breath 
coming in ragged gasps, and he was already covered in sweat. 
He made an effort to refocus his attention between my legs, but 
when I exerted pressure with the probe, his eyes slammed shut 
and his head thumped back onto the mattress. I read that as my 
cue to continue.

I took a moment to spread some Astroglide between my breasts. 
Mulder was as hard as a rock and humping my chest for all he 
was worth. I figured the lubricant would keep him from rubbing 
himself raw. Plus it felt rather pleasant, having his hot, velvety 
shaft slicking up and down against me. Then, I applied some of 
the jelly to the probe and slid it gently inside him. 

He appeared to be enjoying it, judging from the sounds drifting up 
from the direction of my feet. I wanted to make it good for him, 
but I'd never used anything like that probe before. No bigger 
around than my pinky finger, it was several inches long and 
rippled. I decided to only use the first couple of inches, just 
to be safe, and improvise with my other hand on his balls and 
perineum. The gentle thrusting of the probe combined with the 
attentions I was giving to other areas paid off in louder moans 
and an occasional whimper. I could feel the tension in his whole 
body as he tried not to buck his hips. I was sliding my breasts 
up and down his penis enough to keep the friction going so he 
wouldn't need to move too much. When I finally clicked the switch 
and caused the probe to vibrate, I nearly did end up on the floor.

I've never heard Mulder shout that many obscenities in one 
breath. I could feel his fingers digging into my thighs hard enough 
to leave bruises. His body went stiff as he erupted all over my 
breasts and stomach. I would have loved to watch his face, but I 
was too busy making sure the vibrator didn't get knocked around 
by the force of his orgasm. I already had plans to use it again in 
the future, and I didn't want his memory of this occasion to be 
unpleasant. When he finally stopped thrashing on the bed, I 
removed the vibrator and just laid on his body, caressing his damp 
skin and enjoying the satisfaction of a successfully concluded 
experiment. 

Mulder was boneless, gasping, and barely conscious for a good 
ten minutes. The occasional groan was very gratifying to hear.

Between all the Astroglide and Mulder's payload, that was 
probably the messiest sex we've ever had, not counting food. But 
it was also incredible. I'd never had the chance to wield that kind 
of power over a man, and I found I liked it. Mulder told me later 
that he hadn't come that hard since Sherri first introduced him to 
anal sex twenty years ago. And she'd never done it with anything 
except her fingers or tongue. Now I'm sitting at lunch with both of 
them, trying very hard not to imagine the woman across from me 
with her tongue in Mulder's most private of places. I'm not having 
any luck getting that particular picture out of my head. I just 
hope the heat I'm feeling elsewhere isn't apparent on my face.

Mulder's hand on my shoulder makes me jump. He's standing 
next to my chair. What did I miss?

"I'll be right back, ladies. I've got a couple phone calls to make."

Oh. He's headed for the men's room. Lunch must have ended 
while I was in my own little world. Sherri has that look on her 
face that says she wants to talk while he's out of earshot. I'd 
better keep my thoughts focused before I blurt out something I'll 
regret later. Like asking how his ass tasted.

"I'd like to thank you for this chance to talk to Fox." Sherri's 
picking little bits from her napkin and rolling them into balls. 
"After he returned to England, I didn't think I'd ever see him 
again. But I thought about him a lot and hoped he was happy."

She isn't looking me in the eye when she speaks. Maybe I'm not 
the only one who is having trouble with memories inappropriate to 
the occasion. Suddenly, I'm feeling more in control.

"Why didn't you ever try to contact him?"

She shrugs. "He never gave me his address on the Vineyard, or 
in Oxford. Besides, we were too far apart in age at the time. It 
would just have caused problems for him, and he'd already had 
enough in his life."

I can't argue with that. "Well, I'm glad he had a chance to see 
you, too, Sherri. I can tell how happy this has made him."

"Did he tell you how we met and what our relationship was?"

More little napkin balls. The pile is growing.

"Yes, he did."

Sherri shoots me one apprehensive glance and I finally 
understand. She didn't approach us by the hot dog cart because 
she didn't know if she'd be welcome after so long. Now, she's 
afraid I'm judging her. I can see it in her eyes. I guess I wasn't 
open enough during lunch for her to know how wrong she is. For 
some reason I don't intend to explore, I feel a need to reassure 
her.

"Thank you, Sherri."

That got her attention. I hope she didn't give herself whiplash. 
The human neck isn't made to withstand that quick a movement.

"For what?"

For showing him it's manly to be sensitive and gentle. For giving 
him a sense of sexual confidence. For developing his latent oral 
talents. For teaching him how to pleasure a woman without 
expecting anything in return. For so many things I'll never be able 
to tell you. "For being his friend at a time when he desperately 
needed one. For helping him to become the man he is now. For 
loving him." 

There's that glance, again, but with a small self-deprecating smile.

"Does it make you uncomfortable talking to me?"

Deep breath. Time for a little honesty. "It did a little. At 
first. But not anymore. I think his heart is big enough that we 
won't even bump into each other in there. I just wish I could stop 
thinking about what he must have been like at that age."

Good. A nod of understanding and a real smile. I was right -- 
we're both having the same trouble with our imaginations. It's too 
bad we don't have more time together. I'd like to get to know her 
better.

"Fox was a fascinating person, even at such a young age. I knew 
he'd be an amazing man one day. I always hoped he'd find 
someone who would love him the way he needed to be loved."

The smile on her face has turned wistful. "Did he ever find 
Bigfoot?" Well, that was a surprise. It must show on my face, 
too. "He was always talking about things like Bigfoot and the 
Bermuda Triangle. He promised I'd see his name in the paper one 
day because he was going to capture Bigfoot."

Ahhhh. If she only knew. "We've come close a few times." I can't 
help but chuckle a bit. "If he ever did capture one, I think it 
would be more on the order of a billboard and sky-writing than just 
his name in the paper."

Sherri returns my mirth. We both grow quiet for a few minutes, 
but it's a friendly silence. After a while, she catches my eye, 
and I can see questions in hers. "What made him decide to tell 
you about that summer? I got the impression that he was a very 
private person."

"He still is, with most people. Even as long as we've worked 
together, and as close as we are, there are probably things I still 
don't know about him."

You can never know someone completely unless you were there 
for everything they experienced in life. I feel a tiny twinge of 
regret that there are things about Mulder this woman knows that I 
never will.

"As much as Fox loves you, I'm sure you know the most important 
things already."

I try not to let my surprise show, but I can't stop my eyebrows from 
climbing my forehead. Sherri smiles at my expression.

"It's obvious just from the way he looks at you. You look at him 
the same way, you know. Is that why he told you?"

Now I'm the one making tiny napkin balls. I hope I can handle this 
becoming personal. Making an effort, I meet her gaze again. "Not 
too long ago, I asked Mulder if there was ever someone special to 
him in the past. I expected to hear about his crush on a teacher, 
or his first girlfriend. Instead, he told me about you."

Sherri's joined me in turning our napkins into confetti again. 
"That must have been very hard for you to hear."

"Not at all." I'm a little surprised to find I mean it. I remember 
at the time, I didn't feel quite as sure, but the minute I say the 
words, I have no doubt of their truth. I hope my voice can convey 
the depth of my sincerity. "It was sad to think of his loneliness 
before he met you, but mostly I was grateful that he found someone 
for a while who cared for him so much."

She smiles at me, with a hint of sadness in her eyes. "Everyone 
needs somebody special to care for them at different points in 
their life. I'm glad I was there when he needed me."

I remember something from her earlier conversation with Mulder. 
"You got married after that summer, didn't you?"

"Yes. About two years later, after I moved to Florida."

"Did your husband know about...?"

"No." She cuts me off with a vigorous head shake. "I never told 
him. Michael was a sweet, sensitive man, much like Fox. He 
adored me. I didn't want to spoil his vision of me with my sordid 
past."

I'm struck by how much alike Sherri and Mulder were. Both so 
needy and yet giving. Gravitating together like lonely magnets. 
They completed each other at a time when they each were 
missing something. But while Mulder grew to cherish the 
memories, Sherri has tried to hide them in shame. I wonder if 
today's society would be any more forgiving of a woman loving a 
man so much younger than herself, or if we're always going to 
penalize people for basic human nature.

I catch her gaze and hold it. "If Michael was anything like Mulder, 
he probably would have been happy to know you were loved in 
return. Men like that can be very unselfish and understanding if 
we're willing to give them that chance." 

She holds my eyes for a few seconds before looking over my 
shoulder. A huge smile blossoms across her face.

"Yes, they can be, can't they? We're two very lucky women."

Mulder's back, looking a bit smug, even for him. "Were you talking 
about me while I was gone?"

If only you knew, my dear partner and friend. Rampaging 
zombies couldn't bring me to add to the size of your ego. Time for 
the tiny smile that always leaves him guessing. "Not much, 
Mulder." Just wait until I get Sherri's phone number, though. 
There are a lot of subjects we haven't had a chance to cover.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

THE END

Dedication: This series owes its existence to my predecessors in 
the "Mrs. Robinson" genre. Without their amazing examples, I 
never would have had the gumption to try it myself. Train Up A 
Man, When He Is Grown, and A Pearl Beyond Price are lovingly 
dedicated to:

Jacquie LaVa - The Boy
Jess M - Philanthropy
Kel & Trelawney - Seminal Events

Thank you for being my guiding lights. I'm sure Sherri thanks you, 
too.

Feedback: Is worshipped daily at mimic1172@gmail.com