August 15, 2004
Title: Rain Delay
Feedback: always welcome
Distribution: Gossamer, Ephemeral, yes; anyone else, just drop me a line. Thanks!
Summary: Whoever said getting there is half the fun has never gotten lost in Camden, New Jersey.
Disclaimer: Who are these people? They just sort of sneaked onto the page when I wasn't looking. I don't have any control over them, and I certainly don't own them. No harm or gain intended by this story, just a little fun.
A BtS challenge fic. Elements at the end.
Water, water everywhere. But not the kind that did them any good, Mulder reflected. Not the kind of beautiful, blue, beach-edged water he was hoping to see out the window.
He turned away from the spectacular views of forked lightning and trees whipping around in the wind. The interior of the room wasn't what he'd hoped for, either. Instead of a huge bed made up with soft cotton sheets and a ceiling fan circling lazily overhead, there was the usual skimpy double with a scratchy synthetic spread over it. Plenty of humidity, though. "Did you call the airport?"
Scully nodded, her eyes on the television screen. Mulder couldn't see what was so fascinating to her from where he stood. "Delays all across the board. Probability of any flight leaving tonight is unlikely."
Wouldn't you know, the weather had been just fine as long as they were investigating a case. But let him plan a little extra-curricular activity for them, and the heavens let loose. They should have been on the plane, getting their beverage service by now. Instead, they were stuck in Camden. Philadelphia International wasn't allowing any flights out until the storms abated.
He flopped face-first onto the bed. "What about driving?" he asked, his voice muffled by the pillow he burrowed into.
"All the low-lying areas have flash flood warnings in effect," she said. "I don't think we can outrun the storm, anyway. Why, were you thinking of driving to Cancun?"
"Very funny, Scully," Mulder muttered into the pillow. Just when he'd finally persuaded Scully to take a nonwork -related trip with him, the mother of all storms was keeping them earthbound.
He turned over to see the television as Scully snorted and muttered something under her breath. "Idiots," she said.
"What's that?" he asked.
"Some reality show," she said. "Most of these people couldn't find their asses with both hands. They're not even holding the map right."
Mulder watched for a while. The show appeared to be a competition to see who could get to a pre-determined point first, with obstacles thrown in the way. It was more fun watching Scully mutter and shake her head over the antics than it was to watch the show.
She caught him staring at her. "Take a picture, it lasts longer," she said, tossing a pillow at him. She was still a little angry with him, but he could tell she was softening.
"I would, but I left my camera in my other pants," he said, spreading his arms out to show he had nothing to hide. Considering he was wearing only boxers at the moment, it was pretty obvious.
He loved it when he made Scully blush. She shook her head and turned away, pretending to ignore him and his boxers. If he had his way, she wouldn't be ignoring him for long.
Besides, he couldn't help the way the roads were laid out in New Jersey. So he took the wrong exit. He still found them a place to stay, no mean feat in this kind of weather.
She had turned back to the television, but he could tell her attention was at least partly focused on him, lying innocently beside her, not even attempting to touch her. She was sitting at the end of the bed and so she couldn't see if he was watching her or the TV. She steadfastly refused to turn around. He could look at her to his heart's content. She was wearing her terry robe and her hair was still damp from the shower. He liked that look on her, though he liked her look without the robe even more.
The show continued. "Cute goats," he ventured at one point. One of the contestants was trying, with limited success, to herd goats into a boat. Her partner was screaming at her, which wasn't helping much.
"Yeah, but they're going about it all the wrong way. There's nothing to be afraid of," she said, "but they're acting like they'll get goat-cooties or something."
"While you would use those magic words, `naa ram ewe, naa ram ewe,' and they would instantly do your bidding?" Mulder asked.
"It was `baa ram ewe,' and it did help," Scully said defensively.
Mulder wisely let it drop. They watched in silence a while longer. "We'd clean up on this show," he remarked.
"You think so?" No longer able to keep her back to him, Scully had moved to stretch out beside him, and he played with her fingers as she tried to keep the remote from him. "I seem to recall that you're somewhat map-impaired yourself."
"Well, I think the navigator should take some responsibility," he countered.
"Not if the pilot won't listen," she replied, and rolled away from him.
"Sometimes the important thing isn't where you're going, but who you're with," he said.
Scully rolled back to face him. "What a line," she said, rolling her eyes. But she had at least answered him.
Even to him it sounded like a line, but he meant it sincerely. Being stuck in a fleabag motel with Scully was better than being anywhere else without her.
"Yeah, I know," he replied. "But not too bad, huh?" He wiggled his eyebrows at her.
"Better than your map-reading skills, anyway," she said.
"Ouch." Scully didn't need a scalpel to wound him, but he took it like a man...a man who hoped he'd get lucky some time that night.
"Forgive me?" he asked winningly. "It's at least better than sitting in the lounge at the airport."
"Maybe..." Scully relented just a little. He thought he could see a small smile starting.
And then, to cap the wonderful evening, the electricity went off.
They both lay still, perhaps hoping that it was a temporary outage. After several minutes, Mulder got up and looked out the window.
"Looks like we're not the only ones," he said. All the street lights were out. He could see headlights in the distance reflecting off the wet ground, and the occasional flash of lightning, but nothing more.
Scully joined him at the window. "Some vacation," she said glumly.
"Don't give up, Scully," Mulder said. "Chances are it will have blown over in the morning, and we'll get to the airport, and be on our way."
"I never pegged you for an optimist," Scully said. She leaned against him. "But at least it's not a hurricane."
"Been there, done that," he agreed. "This is nothing." He put his arm around her. "Guess we might as well get some shut-eye."
Scully allowed him to lead her to the bed, their way illuminated in flashes by the storm.
They both climbed into bed. After a moment, no sound but quiet breathing from the other side of the bed. Was she sleeping already? He hoped not.
Into the silence he spoke. "Scully."
"Yeah?" she said. She didn't sound like she'd been sleeping.
"Ever read a map by Braille?"
A sigh from Scully. "I'm pretty sure you're not really talking about maps, Mulder."
"Well, not the conventional kind, anyway. More like contour maps."
"Well, you know...hills, valleys, clefts..."
A stifled giggle from Scully. "Prominent erections?" she said in a strangled voice.
"Now you're talking," Mulder said. "Bet you I could find your ass with one hand."
"Mulder, are you calling my ass a prominent erection?" Scully tried to sound indignant, but she was laughing too hard.
"Never! But I have one you could explore, if you like." Bedclothes rustled as he pulled his boxers off. He reached out for Scully and made contact with terry cloth. He let his hand drift down to her waist. "What d'you say to a little exploration?" he whispered in her ear.
"Aren't you afraid of getting lost?" Scully sighed, turning toward him.
"No, I have a pretty good sense of direction without a map," he countered, drawing a line from her chin down her throat to the opening of her robe. He put his hand through the enticing gap. "'Sides, on a trip like this, taking detours is half the fun."
"So you'd say you know where you're going most of the time?" she murmured with a little catch in her voice as his fingers stroked her softly under the fabric.
"Yeah. When it really counts," he said, letting his lips explore her face before settling on her mouth. "Why is this still on?" he asked, plucking at her robe.
"Hmmm..." Scully took his mouth again instead of replying. His hand fumbled for the tie at her waist and the robe loosened and fell open. At last he could feel her, unencumbered by fabric.
Without being able to see, he could concentrate on the feel of her soft breasts and rigid nipples under his fingers. He wanted to taste them, too, to savor the feel of Scully's sweet skin on his tongue. He could hear Scully's breathing quicken as he bent to his task. Her hands stroked through his hair. He enjoyed the feel of her fingertips on his scalp and then the nape of his neck and down to his shoulders.
She pressed against him, rubbing against his cock. He had to pull away for a moment to catch his breath.
"You okay?" she asked, a little breathless herself.
"Uh huh," he said.
"Need directions?" she teased, letting her hand drift down his chest and play over his abdomen.
"Uh uh," he said. "I know my way around." He gritted his teeth as Scully's hand reached his cock and squeezed it gently. "But it feels like you want to drive."
"Maybe," she said. Her fingers played over him. "Or park it. And the map-reading metaphors, too. Enough is enough."
He almost pointed out that she started it, but better sense prevailed before she made him go sleep in the car. "Whatever you say, Agent Scully," he said.
"I'll hold you to that," she warned.
It was on the tip of his tongue to make another quip, but fortunately her hand was doing such wonderful things to him, he was beginning to lose the power of speech. So instead, he leaned in to kiss her. After that, no more words were necessary.
Lips met lips hungrily. Hands met to guide and stroke, and soon the storm, the flight delays, the motel itself, no longer mattered.
Bright light shone in Mulder's face and he blinked. The curtain gaped open and a bright finger of sunlight hit him right in the face.
Scully was burrowed into the pillow next to him. She stirred only slightly as he rose from the bed.
Water-diamonds sparkled everywhere. The pavement was almost blinding with reflected light. He could see no damage other than a few small branches littering the parking lot.
Scully sat up as he hung up from calling the airport. "Flight's in ninety minutes, Scully. The roads are clear. Think we can make it?"
"I don't know," Scully said. "I think I've grown to like it here." She gave him a sultry smile. Her hair was thoroughly tousled and she peered at him through its strands. Her lips still looked enticingly swollen, too.
"Well, maybe I can arrange for us to get lost again," Mulder grinned at her. "Or we can make it a historic spot: `Scully Slept Here.'"
"Now that would be worth a prominent erection," she said with a straight face.
Oooh, Scully. She was getting too damned good at the innuendo game. "Are you sure we need to leave for the airport right away?" he asked. "I can drive fast."
"Good," she said. "Drive fast, and maybe later we can see about membership in the Mile High Club."
Mulder grinned. "I do like the way you think, Agent Scully."
"I learned from a master," she said demurely. "Come on, I'll flip you for the shower."
"Bring it on," he said, leaping onto the bed.
Challenge elements: A map, water, camera, and photograph. All there, in various ways.
Also in commemoration of getting lost in Camden, NJ myself recently. Though I do not blame my navigator in any way -- in fact, without her, I'd probably still be there!
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