Disclaimer: I love these characters and the actors that portray them but they belong to 1013, Fox and CC. I am just borrowing them for a little while and will return them unharmed. Not a penny will I ever see from them.
Written for Haven's November "Guilty Pleasures" Challenge; elements at the end. Thanks for the inspiration and a great big thank you to Tali for coming to my rescue!
"You're too beautiful
To put into words
Like a gypsy
You dance in circles
All around me
And all over the world
And I feel like
Some bird of paradise
My bad fortune slipping away..."
--P.J. Harvey, "Good Fortune"-
Where is she? I glance at my watch again and try to decide if I should call her. When Scully is late, I get anxious. And today, she's very late. I'm just about to reach for the phone when she enters the office, smiling.
"Hey, Scully. I was beginning to worry." Her smile is a little too bright and it puts me on my guard. She's carrying a parcel in one hand but her other hand is behind her back.
"Sorry, Mulder. I had to stop upstairs for something first. Oh and this package came for you." She sets the package on my desk, but I'm more interested in what she's hiding from me. Luckily she decides not to keep me in suspense; her arm emerges from behind her back and I see that she's clutching two small pieces of cardboard, which she waves triumphantly in my face.
"Mulder, I have a surprise for you," she says.
"Scully, are those what I think they are? Two free passes to the Elvis Film Festival at the Old Greenbelt?" I ask hopefully.
"Nope. I have here two tickets for the FBI Ball."
My heart sinks. The annual FBI Ball is something I take pride in avoiding. Socializing with other agents, most of whom are just waiting for their chance to mock ole Spooky, is not a constructive use of my valuable free time.
"Where did you get those? And more importantly, WHY did you get them?"
"I thought it would be fun. I've never been to the FBI Ball before."
"I have, Scully. I'd rather have root canal surgery. It's like being in the FBI cafeteria, except everyone's dressed a lot better."
I catch a flicker of disappointment in her eyes but she recovers quickly and forges ahead. Scully's as stubborn as I am when she wants something.
"Well, I feel like doing something different for a change. And maybe you just need to adjust your attitude, Mulder."
"Knock yourself out. Me, I'm happy with my predictable existence and bad attitude."
She pauses and looks down at her shoes. "Well, I thought we would just go as partners. Lots of agents do that." She lifts her gaze and meets my eyes directly. I'm a little surprised. Cinderella Scully really just wants to go to the Ball, and she wants to go with ME. Maybe I do need an attitude adjustment. I'd be a moron to turn down the chance to spend more time with Scully.
"OK, Scully, I'll go. Where is this shindig?" She brightens and reads me the information from the ticket.
"Wilmington? Why is it way out in Delaware? What's wrong with DC?"
"Apparently they hold the Ball in different locations to give more agents a chance to attend. It's not that far. Do you own a tuxedo?"
I groan. "Of course not. Jackets are optional at most of the places I frequent."
"Well it's black tie, so you'll have to rent one."
"Only for you, Scully. And only if you promise me you'll wear a slinky ball gown showing lots of cleavage?" She probably has great cleavage. I've never really seen it but I've sure thought about it a lot. I'd start thinking about it right now if she wasn't trying to talk to me.
Except she's stopped talking and now she's just glaring at me, because I didn't hear whatever she just said. There goes any chance that she'll follow my suggestion about her dress.
"Mulder, you're not listening. I said, the Ball is Saturday. We have to make hotel reservations, and we can't have the travel office do it because this is not an FBI expense."
"Well, they should, it's their party. Cheap bastards. Ok, I will take care of it. Where are we going again?"
She holds the tickets out for me to read. I try to grab them out of her hand but she quickly moves her arm out of my reach.
"I'm not giving you the ticket until we get there, Mulder, because I have a feeling you will conveniently lose it."
"You wound me, Scully," I tease. She slips the tickets into her jacket pocket and taps the package she'd placed on my desk earlier.
"So, what's in the package?"
I peek at the return address as I open the parcel. "It should be...yes!" I reach through a handful of Styrofoam packing kernels and hold up my find for Scully to see.
"A troll doll, Mulder?"
"An original Dam troll." I shake it at her.
"Why on earth do you want that thing?" she frowns and I shake it at her again.
"Why not? What's wrong with him?"
"-It- has orange hair, Mulder."
"So? I think he's kind of dashing, actually. And trolls are good luck, you know. Here, rub his tummy." I hold out the troll to her but she backs away.
"No thanks, Mulder." She heads for the coffee machine, adding, "Don't forget your tuxedo." I turn the troll over in my hands and watch her go. Shit. A tuxedo. What did I just commit myself to? Playing dress-up with Scully, that's what. I rub the troll's round stomach with my finger, set him on my desk, and try not to start thinking about her cleavage again.
I get distracted with a series of phone calls and forget to book the hotel. Scully reminds me twice but it's not until the next day that I finally get around to looking at hotel websites. The official hotel for the Ball is sold out, of course, so I log onto some other sites and learn all the other hotels in Wilmington are sold out, too. Can there be that many FBI agents who got suckered into this thing by their gorgeous partners? I finally visit Realcheaplastminute.com and hope for the best. I end up with the only motel available and its miles from town. I'm sure Scully will be annoyed so I conveniently leave out that detail when I tell her I've taken care of the reservations. She's so pleased at this news that she doesn't even ask me where we are staying, so I get a few days' reprieve.
Saturday arrives, miserably. It's been raining for hours and shows no sign of letting up. There are severe storm warnings for most of Maryland and Delaware. I have, however, remembered to rent my tuxedo and as I pull my car up in front of Scully's apartment, I tug at my collar to loosen the tie. She's decided we will save time if we are already dressed for the Ball; then we'll only need to spend a few minutes freshening up at the hotel. There's no way I'm driving for two hours in a cummerbund so I haven't even bothered to put it on yet. Scully has been waiting in the vestibule for me and she scampers out to my car. She's bundled up in her trench coat so I can't see what she's wearing, except for her feet; she's got some little strappy sandal things on and she's trying not to step in any puddles between the curb and my car. There'd better be cleavage under that coat, Scully.
She tumbles into my car and slams the door with a sigh, shaking the rain out of her hair.
"Hey, Scully. Driving's going to be pretty nasty. There is still time to change your mind. I'm sure we can find somewhere around here that will let us in with these duds, " I offer hopefully.
"No, Mulder, we are going to the Ball," she says firmly. Damn.
The drive to Wilmington is very slow going; traffic is bad and visibility is terrible. I really have to concentrate, so I am not my usual chatty self. Scully seems content with the lack of conversation and doesn't say much until we reach Wilmington and she realizes I have passed the downtown exit.
"Mulder, where are we going?"
"To our motel, Scully."
"We're not staying downtown?" she asks, dismayed.
"Can't. No rooms. Every Agent in the country must be here tonight."
"Did you check every hotel?"
"Of course I did. Don't blame this on me, Scully. You could have roped me into this thing a lot earlier."
She says nothing because she knows I am right. The silence in the car is punctuated only by the thwap-thwap of the windshield wipers fighting vainly against the rain.
We reach the Vista Motel; the best word I can use to describe it is "dump" and that's being charitable. I can feel Scully's displeasure before she expresses it.
"This is it?"
"Afraid so, Scully. This was all I could find."
Her eyes flash. "Never mind, Mulder. Let's just check in. We are already late."
I brave the deluge to check us in at the motel office, then park the car and we make a run for our rooms. Barely a moment passes before Scully bangs on my door.
"Mulder, I want you to look at my room," she orders, trying to bury herself in her coat so she can stay dry.
I follow her into her room and see why she is furious. The room is beyond disgusting. There is an odor that makes mildew seem like the finest French perfume. The paint is peeling and there is something suspicious lying on the unmade bed.
"What is that?"
"I wouldn't go near it if I were you, Mulder," she cautions, but I approach anyway, and as I bend down to get a closer look, I see why she warned me. It's a flannel baby's blanket, covered in dried--something. I'm guessing spit-up but I don't bother to investigate any further. I turn back to Scully, who is standing near the door, arms crossed.
"Don't even look in the bathroom, Mulder."
"I won't. You can't stay in here, Scully. My room is pretty dingy but at least it's clean compared to this, and it doesn't smell. You can use it and I'll get another room."
"Fine." she says coolly. I reach for the phone to call the front desk, think better of touching it, and use my cell instead. My conversation with the manager is brief and has an unhappy ending.
Scully is watching me closely, her brow furrowed. "Well?"
"They don't have another room. I don't even want to know why this one was never cleaned. So we can't swap rooms, because I'm not staying in here with the kiddie barf, either. We will have to share my room."
"Fine." she repeats in that icy voice. "Let's just get out of here, Mulder." She's out the door and into the car before I can say another word.
I grab her bag, toss it into my room, and follow her to the car. Backing out of the parking space, I hear a large BANG and feel the car swerve underneath us. I hit the brakes slowly and glide us to a stop. This is not good.
"Mulder, what the hell was that?"
I think I already know the answer and she won't want to hear it. I get out of the car and slosh around in the mud, checking each wheel. Sure enough, it's a flat tire. Shit! This lot is unpaved so I must have driven over a nail or some other piece of crap.
Scully's window is closed so I lean up against the glass and yell in at her.
"We have a flat."
She cracks the window open and glares at me. "I assume you have a spare."
Another answer she won't want to hear. My spare tire went flat months ago and I never bothered to have it repaired. We were sent off to some case in Florida and I forgot about it.
Soaking wet, I get back in the car and call the Auto Club. More bad news. Apparently the entire area is in chaos due to this storm, and the Auto Club is several hours behind on emergency calls. I give them my location anyway. Scully is still glaring when I hang up.
"Wait here, Scully," I tell her and dash back to the motel office to see if our hotel manager/slumlord might happen to have a phone book. Maybe I can find a nearby gas station that has its own tow truck. To my surprise, the manager/slumlord does have a phone book, but as he hands it to me, he says, "You won't get anybody to come out on a night like this, bud." We'll see about that. I find three stations in the book and call them all. Two of them don't even answer and the third one says his truck has broken down. Crap.
Keeping the phone book, I run back to the car and give Scully the bad news. She's still upset but she's not giving up. Cinderella still wants to go to the ball.
"What about a cab, Mulder?"
Two cab companies: One won't come anywhere near us, and the other says the wait is at least an hour.
"Limo?" she says. I call two limousine services in Wilmington. They both inform me that all of their limos are in use tonight. "There is some big FBI function going on downtown." No shit.
Scully is still trying. "Maybe we can call someone at the Ball to come and pick us up?"
"Who do you think would be willing to venture out in this downpour to come and get us?" I ask doubtfully.
I give him a call to appease her but I suspect it's a fruitless attempt, and I'm right. Skinner asks where the hell we are, says dinner is over, and tells me that it's just too difficult for him to have to move his car and drive all the way out here in this horrible storm to come and get us. Nor can he think of anybody else at the Ball who would be willing to, either. *Thank you, sir*.
Scully listens to my conversation with Skinner and when I hang up, she seems more disappointed than angry. I can't think of anything else to try.
"I'm sorry, Scully. I think we are stuck here for a while. Maybe the Auto Club will get here sooner than we think. We might as well get out of this car and wait for them in the room."
"I guess we don't have any choice. Let's see if we can get something to eat, Mulder. I'm hungry."
Another mad dash through the rain, into my room. Scully stops and takes a quick look around.
"You're right, Mulder, at least this room is clean. But there's only one bed." I hadn't even noticed that before, but she's right. That is going to make the sleeping arrangements interesting. But I can't let myself get distracted with that idea right now. I need to get out of this wet coat and we have to get some food delivered. I toss my trench coat on the floor and Scully hangs hers up in the closet. Now I can get a good look at her gown. It is black and floor-length. She is stunning. I suddenly find it hard to breathe. There are wide straps over her shoulders and her arms are bare. And yes, there is a tantalizing glimpse of cleavage. I guess she heard me after all. She turns around and catches me staring at her.
"You look wonderful, Scully," I manage to stammer.
"Thank you," she replies and I catch a gleam of pleasure in her eyes. I peel off my tuxedo jacket and when I toss it onto the chair I see she's watching me carefully, and that gleam is still there. I expect a rebuke for my careless clothing habits but she says nothing.
We sit next to each other on the bed and page through the phone book, looking for a place that delivers. Who knew Wilmington was so goddamn rural? Because of the storm, nobody is making deliveries tonight. Am I the only idiot who was stupid enough to drive in this weather?
"I guess I will see if this dump has a vending machine, Scully."
"I'd be careful of what you find in there, Mulder."
"Don't worry, I'll make sure I only buy something that's wrapped."
I pull my coat back on and trudge outside again. The wind is fierce and the rain is still falling in sheets. I do find the vending machine and survey the contents carefully. There is not much to select from but at least it works, and I manage to get a few items and tuck them under my coat to keep them dry. I try to remember if there is anything to eat in my car. I'm already wet, I may as well take a look. I rummage around in the glove compartment and find something edible and something else that I'd forgotten about.
I return to the room and find Scully sitting on the bed, propped against the pillows. The strappy shoes are on the floor and her feet are up on the bed. Her gown has slid up along her legs, revealing her bare, smooth calves, and I'm having that breathing problem again. The TV is on and she mutes it when I walk in.
"Well, Mulder, what did you find?"
"A veritable smorgasbord of junk food, Scully. I'm afraid there were slim pickins' out there. Check it out."
I open my coat and display my loot: Two bags of BBQ potato chips, a wrapped slice of pound cake, and some Pixy Stix.
"That's it?" she says incredulously.
"That's it. Oh, and some sodas." I pull the cans out of my pocket and the troll doll tumbles out, too, onto the floor.
"Where did that come from?"
"I brought him for good luck. He was in my glove compartment with the Pixy Stix."
"Mulder, I do not even want to know why you had Pixy Stix in your glove compartment," she says. "And I don't think that troll doll has brought us very good luck at all. In fact, I'd say it was the opposite."
"I thought you didn't believe in lucky charms, Scully." I pick the troll up from the floor, give his stomach a good rub with my thumb, and set him on the nightstand.
"Right now the only lucky charms I want to believe in are the ones that come in a red box from the grocery store. Give me those potato chips," she demands, snatching a bag and tearing into it with very un-Scully-like gusto.
I throw my wet coat on the floor again, kick off my muddy shoes and sit on the bed beside her.
"So what's on TV?" I ask, reaching for the other bag of potato chips before she can grab it; she's almost finished with her bag.
"Only one channel works, which doesn't surprise me," she says, her mouth full. "There's a movie on. 'Singles.' The one about all these people that live in the same apartment complex?"
"Oh yeah. Bridget Fonda."
"You probably have the hots for her, Mulder."
Actually, I always preferred Sheila Kelley in this movie, because she reminded me of Diana. But I decide not to mention this to Scully.
"Yeah, Bridget Fonda's pretty cute, I guess. What about you? I bet Matt Dillon does it for you."
"No, I like Campbell Scott better," she says.
"Really? He's kind of geeky."
"What's wrong with geeky, Mulder?" She has a strange glint in her eyes and suddenly I feel warm. I reach for my collar and remember I loosened it hours ago. I also realize that we are sitting quite close together; our hips are touching. I wonder if I shouldn't turn on the air conditioning because it is definitely warm in here.
We watch the movie and chow down on the rest of our makeshift dinner. We share the slice of pound cake and I even convince her to have half of a Pixy Stik, which proves that she must be starving; Scully never eats pure sugar by choice. I call the Auto Club again and they assure me we are on the list but they still can't give us an estimated time of arrival.
Bridget Fonda has just kissed Matt Dillon in the elevator when I feel something brush my shoulder. Scully has dozed off and her head is resting against me. For some reason this makes me nervous, but I'm not sure why. She's fallen asleep next to me before, but that's usually in the car. Maybe I'm nervous because now we are in a bed, with hips and thighs pressed together, and I am staring down her gown and can see her the rise of her breasts. Maybe it's because I am incredibly turned on.
I try to decide what to do about this when she stirs and curls up against me, bringing one leg across mine. Her hand follows and rests against my thigh but it's dangerously close to my fly. I'm hard as a rock and if she moves her hand a few inches up in the right direction Oh Jesus.
My lower body is on fire. I don't want to wake her but if she doesn't move something soon I am going to explode. I put my arm around her gently to try and shift her. She responds by curling up even tighter against me. Her hand moves up and she's almost touching my erection now. I lean my cheek against her silky hair and try to stop my heart from racing.
She stirs again. "Mmmmm."
"Scully?" I whisper. She's awake. I feel her whole body stiffen and I look down to see what she is going to do with that hand. She does not move it. Oh god. Instead she lifts her head and looks at me.
"I'm sorry Mulder, I fell asleep." Her cheeks are flushed. Can she be as aroused as I am?
"Don't be sorry," I tell her softly, taking her chin in my hand. Her leg is still resting on mine and she's still curled against me. Her eyes are wide open and so are her lips. I lean in and gently place my lips against hers. The touch is electrifying and I am hungry for more, so I press more firmly against her mouth with my lips and chance a swipe of her lower lip with my tongue. She responds with equal hunger and if not for the throbbing ache of my erection and her silky tongue now exploring my mouth, I would swear this was a dream.
I finally break the kiss because I cannot breathe again. Scully is looking at me with eyes the color of midnight.
"Scully, is this what you want?" I need to hear her say it.
"Yes, Mulder," she whispers, moving to kiss me again, and then we are both lost. My hands are everywhere: along her bare arms, around her back, unzipping her dress and sliding it down, and finally, on her breasts. I touch them, gently at first and as she quivers my under hand, with more vigor. She fumbles with the buttons on my shirt for a minute, then finally gives up and tears it open. This makes me crazy and now we are both off of the bed and pulling off her gown and my trousers and every piece of clothing we have. Scully stands before me, more beautiful than I had imagined. My dick is stone hard and I see her eyes widen at the evidence of my need. I lift her back onto the bed and move over her. Shaking, I gently slide my finger into her and feel how wet she is. For me. She raises her hips up and rubs against my hand and moans my name. At the sound of her voice, I grab myself with my other hand and stroke with the same rhythm as the finger I move inside her. She starts to shudder beneath my hand and I can't wait any longer. I slide my finger out and she looks at me wildly until she feels the heat and hardness of what replaces it. I enter her slowly, wanting to capture the lightning that surges through both of us at that moment. But the need is too strong and suddenly we are both out of control. We rock faster and faster and all too soon I feel the tell-tale tightening in my balls and I have no idea if she's coming but I am, hard, and she kisses me as lose myself inside her.
It takes me several minutes to stop trembling and feel like I can breathe again. Scully's soft fingers trace lazily across my back. When I can finally look at her, I kiss her gently on the lips and she smiles at me in return. I trace the top of her breast with one finger.
"Scully...I-I-I'm sorry, this isn't how I imagined it would be."
"And how did you imagine it, Mulder?" she asks, amused.
"Well, you, me, this...I mean, I would never have chosen the world's shittiest motel for something so incredible, for what just happened..."
She grins at me, still stroking my back. "Really, I would have thought this was all some elaborate plan to get me into bed. The flat tire, the dirty room..."
"Now, Scully, I didn't plan the rainstorm."
"You sure you didn't have Sheila Fontane or one of your paranormal friends conjure up some bad weather for us?" she teases. I am about to make her pay for that remark when my cell phone rings. I check the caller ID and, as luck would have it, it's the Auto Club. They are finally in the parking lot, ready to fix my tire. The mechanic asks how soon I can meet him outside.
"I guess we'll be able to get out of here, Scully," I tell her.
"Just when I was beginning to like it here, Mulder," she smiles. I reluctantly slide out of Scully's arms and start looking for my shirt and trousers from the tangle of clothing on the floor.
I leave Scully in bed and go outside where the mechanic is already hard at work changing my flat tire. He tells me he has been working straight through the night and that my car is not the last one he has to see to. The rain is letting up, reduced now to a slight drizzle. I hear a noise behind me and turn to see Scully has joined me outside, dressed again in gown and trench coat, stepping gingerly around the puddles in those strappy shoes.
"Did he fix it, Mulder?" she asks.
"Yeah. He's almost done. Think there is any food left at that FBI Ball?"
She laughs ruefully. "I doubt it."
I turn serious for a moment. "Scully, I am sorry we didn't make it to the Ball. I know you really were looking forward to it."
"It's ok, Mulder. I was, but I think things turned out all right in the end, somehow," she smiles a golden smile at me. "Although I do have one regret. I was looking forward to dancing with you."
"Your wish is my command," I tell her. My car is off the jack now so I open the door, start the ignition, and turn on the radio. I take Scully in my arms and circle her slowly around the parking lot. The Auto Club mechanic watches us as he puts away his tools, shaking his head with a smile. We finish our little dance and I kiss her again, neither one of us caring that we are getting wet in the mist.
"Let's get out of here and find someplace that serves breakfast," I tell her, taking her arm and leading her back to the room.
"Then I think we should go home and get out of these clothes," she says in a voice like honey, and now I'm hard again and there's no way I can wait until we get home to get her out of that dress. I slam the door behind us and spin Scully around to face me. I pull her close and just before we are lost in another kiss, I spot the troll doll on the nightstand.
Thanks for the good luck, little fella.
The movie "Singles"
A little kid's security blanket
Free movies passes for two
And for bonus points <g>:
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