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Palm Springs by Nicola Simpson
Palm Springs
With sequels “Outpatient” and “Impatient”
by Nicola Simpson [email protected]
Okay, this is my first fanfic attempt, so feedback would be nice. Flames are not necessarily welcome, but will be accepted COD.
Beware those of you not keen on a M/S romance. There’s a tad of it in here…
Standard disclaimers apply, I wish no harm to that veritable god CC and his 10/13 productions, who furnish the basis of my wacky obsession. I just hope they send me flowers when my fiance decides to foist me off due to this pathetic fandom…
Palm Springs
by Nicola Simpson
“Mulder, what is that?” Scully raised an eyebrow as she looked at the nutritional substance that her partner was holding in his hand. At least it looked nutritional, it was hard to tell with Mulder.
He grinned, “What, Scully, you’ve never eaten cold pizza before?”
“Not,” she plonked her briefcase on her desk and sidled to the coffee maker, “for breakfast.” She frowned at him as he put the cream in her cup for her.
“I’ll have you know, Dr. Scully, that this,” gesturing to the greasy triangle, “is not breakfast. It’s dinner.”
Dana rolled her eyes back and reached past Mulder to throw the rest of the pizza in the garbage. “Forget I said anything. You know, Mulder, I swear I hear your arteries clogging in my sleep…”
Her partner leered at her unsuccessfully, “And just how can you hear me in your sleep?” Mulder looked at her carefully for a moment, waiting for a reaction. He was mildly disappointed when he didn’t get one. Far from public opinion, he enjoyed having her shoot him and his theories down, it kept him, well, humble. Scully sat down in a creaky chair across from his desk, and he walked over and perched on the corner, carefully avoiding the scattered sunflower seeds.
“What, aren’t you using that birdseed dispenser that I gave you for Christmas?”
“Hardy har har,” Mulder replied sardonically.
“So, anything new? Any mutants, serial killers, sea monkeys on a rampage in Wisconsin?”
Mulder rooted through the mezozoic layer of files on his desk. “Actually, there was something that came in this morning.” He looked puzzled as he pushed one piece of paper from one side of the desk to the other. Scully looked at him impatiently, but with the hint of a tolerant smile on her face. She knew what he was like. Brilliant, but a tad disorganized. He would have laughed to hear that she kind of liked it, it made him seem more fallible.
“Aha!”
Scully jumped, then frowned at him. “What is it?”
“Found it,” he waved a file in the air.
“Well?”
“Skinner wants us to go to Palm Springs.”
Dana remembered her icy walk from the carpark into the Hoover Building. “There are worse places to be.” She grinned. “Do we get to golf?”
Mulder lifted an eyebrow at her. “You golf?”
“Only with people less talented at it than I am.” She leaned over to look at the file. “Okay, so what’s the story?” Scully sat back in her chair, then decided to get up and refill her coffee cup. She inwardly laughed as she saw Mulder set up the slide projector out of the corner of her eye.
“Story is this: major resort hotel in the Palm Springs area has been flooding.” He cued up a slide that showed an ornate lobby under 3 feet of water.
“Flooding? That’s it? Why don’t they just call Department of Public Works or something?”
“Have you ever been to Palm Springs, Dr. Scully?” She shook her head and waited.
“It’s in the desert, the Mojave, I believe.” He clicked on another slide showing the surrounding grounds of the hotel, complete with mesas and scrubbrush. “Very hot, very dry.”
“But isn’t there an extensive irrigation system? Could that just be backfiring?”
“We’re not talking about just some garden sprinklers on the fritz here. We’re talked deluges that come out of nowhere.”
Scully looked at the screen. She could almost feel the arid heat rising from it. “Well, I’m assuming the sky?”
“Sorry, Watson. These floods literally come out of nowhere.” She turned and gazed at him quizzically. “They just appear overnight.”
She gave him that oh so familiar Mulder-what-the-hell-are-you-suggesting-now look. He didn’t even flinch, he was so used to it by now. “Overnight? Like the sandman?” She hunted for a trace of guile in his hazel eyes, but could find none. “You’re serious,” she remarked incredulously.
Mulder switched off the projector, then turned to face her, a dimple flickering in his cheek. “I’ll bet you play par, don’t you?”
xXx
“Would you like anything to drink, sir?”
“Hmmm?” Mulder was roused out of his reverie by a slim brunette stewardess beside his seat. Sorry: flight attendant. Scully nudged him lightly, just in case he didn’t hear the question the first time. He glared at her, but her sunglasses were still on, and he could only see himself in the reflection.
Dana hissed, “Coffee? Tea?”
He couldn’t resist. “Me?” She gave him a Scully-patented look from hell, but could feel herself growing warm at the image his innocent (heavens, she hoped it was innocent!) remark conjured up.
He turned back to the flight attendant. “Nothing for me, thanks. Oh wait, maybe a glass of mineral water would be great.” She smiled and vanished down the narrow aisle. After he finished admiring her retreating form, he turned back to Scully, and noticed her watching his line of vision with contempt. Was she jealous? he wondered. If so, she was very good at hiding it. Better than he was around her, in any case. He shook the thought from his head, better to forget that for now.
Dana gazed out the aiplane window, damp from condensation. According to the radio, the weather in Palm Springs was 84 degrees, with not a cloud in the sky. She leaned back in her seat, and realized with a small start, that if it weren’t for this case, this could almost be a vacation. Except for Mulder. She pondered the idea for a moment. A vacation with Mulder? An image popped into her head of them lying around a glassy turquoise pool, sipping on cool frosty drinks. He was rubbing sunscreen on her fair freckled shoulders. The sun was getting low in the sky, and a light breeze ruffled his hair as he bent down and-
“Scully?” She twitched in shock at the interruption. She saw a familiar hand wave in front of her face. “Hello in there?” She could hear the laughter in his voice without looking at him. She knew him too well. She would not let herself look at him. She was blushing, she knew it. The curse of a redhead.
“What is it, Mulder?”
He reached over and turned her chin so that she could see him. “Are you in Palm Springs already?”
“Without you?” She replied sarcastically. Rats, was that a tremor in her voice? Her skin tingled where his fingers still lay on her chin. She turned away again as soon as his hand dropped to the armrest. “Wouldn’t that be nice?”
“No, seriously, what were you thinking?” Damn, she thought, it was impossible to insult this man…
“Just vague thoughts about the case.”
“The case.”
“Yes, the case,” she affirmed. “The case of scotch that I’m going to need after this trip with you.” She shifted in her seat and twinkled her teal eyes at him to show him that she was kidding. Well, mostly kidding. “Where’s the file, by the way?”
“The file?”
Exasperated, she sighed, “The case file? You know, the reason we’re here?”
“Oh, it’s in my suitcase.”
“Well done, Sherlock. Nice to know that matters of national security were seen by every baggage attendant in Dulles airport.” She just didn’t believe him sometimes… It’s a wonder he hadn’t been killed yet. And not by one of theirs, either.
xXx
By the time Mulder and Scully arrived at the oasis they were supposed to investigate, it was late in the day, and the sun had already set over the desert hills. After the commuter flight from LAX, they were now positively beat, and they headed straight for the front desk, and their rooms, in that order.
“Mulder, be a gentleman and carry my bag, will you?”
He smirked at her and wiped the beading sweat off of his brow. “Me, a gentleman? In your dreams, Scully.”
She laughed and pulled her bag into the elevator. Despite his comment, Mulder grabbed her bag as well as his when the elevator doors opened on the third floor, their floor. Scully didn’t even notice until he was about to step forward with them gripped in his hands.
“Mulder, I was just kidd-”
Two seconds later, Mulder was on the floor, and the bags hadn’t moved. He grimaced. “I think your bag pulled my arm out of its socket.” She reached down to help him up. “What on earth do you have in there?”
His petite partner blushed. “Forget it, Mulder. Please, please don’t be a gentleman. It doesn’t suit you.”
“Well, I won’t anymore. It’s too hazardous to my health.” He stretched out an arm. “Look, Scully, I think I can see a pulled muscle.”
“Underneath a gabardine suit? Right.” She looked away, the idea of Mulder’s bare flexing arms was not what she wanted to think of right then and there. Maybe later, in the privacy of a cool bath.
They completed their trek down the hall, and stopped in front of 312 and 314. Mulder pulled out two keys, and gave one to Dana.
“Pick a room. Any room.” He gestured magnanimously around the hall.
“Mulder, I don’t care. I am wilting here, just give me one with a bathtub and airconditioning and a bed, and I’ll be fine.”
“Ah, in that case,” he slipped a key in his pocket, and brandished the other triumphantly, “You definitely want to stay in my room.” Scully was speechless, but also puzzled. Mulder had been flirting with her for this entire trip, which was unusual. What was going on with him? she wondered. She suddenly realized that if she didn’t say anything to the contrary, he might think she was acquiescing to his joking suggestion. She grabbed the key out of his unsuspecting hand, and turned it in the lock. She shoved her bag in the door with one foot, and kicked it shut in his face with the other.
She could hear his voice in the hall. “So I guess this means no slumber party?”
She leaned against the door and smiled in spite of herself. She waited until she heard his footsteps fade and the key turn in the next door down the hall. “Get a grip, Dana.” She scolded herself as she peeled her sticky blazer off. “The case, the case, the case.” She chanted work things to herself like a mantra as she stripped and headed straight for the shower.
Ten minutes later, she was cool, slightly damp, and feeling much better, wrapped in a plush terrycloth robe that she found with glee on the back of the bathroom door. She was just hanging up her clothes from her suitcase when she heard a knock at the connecting door. A connecting door that she hadn’t noticed until just then. Mulder was, of course, on the other side. She let him in, but soon regretted it after she watched his eyes slide from her bare legs to her tousled auburn hair. She was starting to feel uneasy about this “case”. And Mulder.
He leaned against the doorframe. “Hey Scully, you look good all washed up.” She continued to unpack, choosing to ignore his comment.
“So, do we start now, or do we wait until tomorrow?”
Mulder fell back on her bed, then sat up, testing the springs like a ten year-old. Slyly, he asked, “Start what?”
That was enough. She spun around, fury and amusement in her eyes. “Mulder, what is wrong with you? Is it my imagination, or have you been acting like a… a…. pubescent,” she spit out, “all day? Don’t get me wrong, the attention is well, flattering. But you’re starting to sound like Frohicke!” She glared at him until she realized that he wasn’t looking at her. She followed the trail of his eyes, until it stopped at the black lace bra still waving from her hand. Slowly, his hazel eyes met hers. Dana felt like she was drowning in him. How did he do that? she wondered, he made her feel like they were the only two people in the world. It was very disconcerting sometimes. He blinked. She quickly looked away and threw the lingerie in a nearby drawer.
Fox stood up slowly and walked towards the connecting door. He stopped with his hand on the knob, and said somewhat wearily, “Believe what you want, Scully.” He turned to meet her widened eyes. “Just let me know when you figure it out, okay?” He stepped into his room and shut the door quietly behind him.
Scully’s head was reeling. What the hell was going on? What didhe want from her? What did she want from him? They were partners, the best of friends, but was there more? She hugged a pillow and reluctantly admitted that she was definitely attracted to Mulder. Who wouldn’t be? She realized that she was very fond of him, but it wasn’t the primary focus of their relationship. She always believed that theirs was a more mental attraction (when she chose to admit it), than a physical one. Not that she wasn’t physically attracted to him, far from it. Unless she prepared herself, she literally trembled whenever he touched her, even if it was just a guiding friendly hand resting lightly on her back.
“I’m scared, Fox.” She whispered to herself, but it felt like she was screaming at the top of her lungs on top of a mountain. She loved him. She loved him with all her heart and soul. She loved him as she never thought she was capable. Not like Jack, not like anyone else in the world. She trusted him with her life, now was she ready to trust him with her heart? Scully was exhausted by her thoughts. She lay her head down on the feather pillows, and fell asleep immediately.
The lights were still on.
xXx
Mulder lay on his bed on the other side of the wall. He had been in that position for twenty minutes, still and quiet, waiting for some sound to come from Dana’s room. A tap running, her walking across the floor, to his door- no. Nothing. His eyes mentally traced designs over the stucco ceiling, and he thought about her.
It seemed like that’s all he had done for the last two years. Ever since she walked into his office and he accused her of being a spy, she was never far from his thoughts. He used to dream of Samantha. Now he dreamed of her. Murky, dark dreams that often had her in trouble, or helpless, calling out his name. Funny, they were just like his dreams of Samantha. Mulder rolled over on his side and stared blankly at the clock radio.
11:21.
12:47.
3:29.
This is ridiculous, he had to at least try to get some sleep.
xXx
There were pins pricking in her eyes. She screwed them tighter, but they were still there. Scully rolled over on her side, maybe that would help. Aaahhh… it was the sun. She awoke with a start, realizing that she wasn’t in her apartment with the rain pelting on her windows. She was in Palm Springs with Mulder.
Mulder. Damn. What did she say to him last night? She had the funny feeling it wasn’t very nice… A lump formed in her throat. She rolled over onto her other side and rapidly collided with something warm and solid. She froze in shock.
“I remember falling asleep with the lights on,” she mumbled to herself. “What happened that I don’t remember?” She started to panick silently.
A deep and familiar voice answered her question for her.
“Morning, Scully.”
“Morning, Scully.”
She froze in shock. What the hell had happened last night? Think, Dana, think. Unconsciously, she scooted over to the opposite side of the bed, as far away from Mulder as she could get. Unfortunately, it was an old double bed, with a well-worn groove in the middle, so she kept sliding back into Mulder’s arms. Scully clutched at the corner of the bedside table in a vain attempt to keep a distance.
“Scully? What are you doing?”
Oh God, why was he awake? He sat up quickly, too quickly. Her slightly rumpled auburn head lolled back to where he had been laying and her cheeks flushed as his warm scent filled her nostrils.
He turned around and she brought her eyes up to meet his.
“Mulder, what are you doing in my bed?” she tried to ask warningly, but she couldn’t shake the quavering at the back of her dry throat. Too dry. She jumped out of the bed and ran to the bathroom for a glass of water.
Her partner called out, “What do you think I’m doing in your bed?”
She turned around and leant against the doorframe, the glass of water shaking badly in her hand, though she tried to steady it.
“Mulder…” she frowned. A huge grin spread over his face. A sinking feeling came over her.
“Relax, Scully, you just had a bad dream. Look, we’re still dressed,” he gestured to their respective outfitting. She looked unconvinced. “Look, I heard you screaming, and I do mean screaming at about 5 in the morning. I had to break down the door to get in.”
Her green eyes shifted, then rested on the once secure latch hanging from the connecting door.
“Don’t you believe me, Scully?” he looked up at her with his most annoying hangdog expression, his hazel eyes filling with crocodile tears. She gave up. Sighing, she sat down on the bed beside him.
“Yeah, I believe you.” She smiled at him, though it felt like an enormous effort. “If for no other reason, I can’t believe I would actually have no memory after spending the night with you.” He smiled back. “What was I dreaming about?”
Mulder frowned. “I have no idea, but it sure was a doozy. I thought the aliens were coming to get you,” he joked. A glazed look came into her eyes, and suddenly he was sorry he said anything. He tried to lighten the mood. “Okay, partner, up and at ‘em, time to hit the golf course.”
The line between her and her wordless imagination was snapped, and her eyes focused on Mulder once again. “I didn’t bring my clu-” He grinned at her. Damn, she wished he would quit doing that so much, he was just irresistable when he looked at her like that.
“Mulder, we have a case to pursue”
“Pursue?”
She stood up, and pulled him up with her. “Yes, pursue. You know, investigate, follow up, etc.” Her hand was growing warm, and she realized that his hand was still attached to it. It also wasn’t the only part of her increasing in temperature.
Mulder looked at her strangely. “Scully, did you get a sunburn already?”
xXx
To anyone who didn’t know her, they would think that Agent Dana Scully was wandering aimlessly around the lobby. Mulder knew, however, as soon as he spotted her, that her scientific mind was assessing everything around her, and her eyes were constantly searching for anything unusual. Fox was glad that she hadn’t noticed him yet, it gave him a chance to watch her.
Scully’s turquoise silk skirt rippled gently as she passed a small potted palm near the front desk. She looked beautiful, if tired, he noticed to himself. She always did. She leaned in to talk to the concierge. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, he wondered if it was about him. He wiped a hand over his already sweating neck. He was really too paranoid sometimes.
Scully could sense him. She could feel him watching her, it was like his eyes were boring into the back of her neck. After she finished her brief conversation with Louise (or so the nametag said), she spun around and headed straight for Mulder.
“Mulder,” she warned with fire in her eyes, “this has got to be the most…” she searched for the right word, “ARID place I’ve ever been in. And that includes the Arctic!” Fox looked sheepish. “Would you mind telling me why we’re here? The concierge said that it hasn’t rained in weeks here, it’s practically a dustbowl… I don’t feel a sopping wet carpet under my feet. The only dampness around me right now is from my own perspiration!” She let out a long breath and stared at him, waiting for an answer.
“I’m not so sure, Scully,” he smiled disarmingly, “You’re kind of a wet blanket yourself right now.” She sighed in exasperation, and headed for the front desk again. He followed her, wondering what was she was going to do.
“Hello,” she leaned over the desk once more, “We would like to check out, Agents Scully and Mulder on the third floor.” The clerk busied himself with the computer, and Mulder grabbed Dana’s elbow and pulled her over to the side.
“What’re you doing?” he demanded.
“Mulder, you can’t be serious. We are NOT staying here.”
Realization dawned on her. “There is no case, is there? You trapped me here,” she hissed at him. Now she was getting mad, and he was getting intimidated.
“Well…”
“Shove it, Mulder.” Her voice was rising. The clerk looked up from her computer briefly, then decided it was none of his business. Probably just a marital spat, he figured. He looked up again when the pretty redhead threw her key down on his counter. The tall man with her snatched it just as soon as it landed.
“Scully-”
“Just why the hell did you bring me here, Mulder? What, life at the office was too boring for you? Not enough aliens to occupy your twisted mind? You had to make up paranormal activity, you had to-”
“YOU NEEDED A VACATION!” She was stunned into silence. He had to be joking. Wasn’t he? Mulder dragged a hand through his short brown hair and looked tired all of a sudden.
She kept her eyes on the Southwestern style carpet, then slowly dragged them to meet his piercing hazel ones. “I needed a vacation?”
He let out a deep exasperated sigh. “Yes, Scully, you did. And you won’t take one of your own will, no matter what I or Skinner say. So, I….”
“Tricked me.”
He scuffed his shoe briefly on the floor. “NO, not tricked…”
“Coerced?” She smiled. Thank heavens, he thought, she finally smiled. “Let me get this straight. The flight-”
“Skinner actually paid for that.”
“The pictures you showed me-”
“Fakes.” He grinned. “Boy, do we have great people in our photo labs.” By this time, she was not only smiling, she was outright laughing.
It felt so good to laugh. She couldn’t remember the last time she had laughed. It had been months, since before- she didn’t want to remember how long it had been after all.
“Uncle! Uncle!”
Mulder held out his elbow, his hands still in his pockets, Dana looped her arm through his. He leaned in to whisper in her ear, “Dr. Scully, this is going to be the best vacation you ever had.” His breath was warm near her neck, and she was reminded fleetingly of how it felt to wake up with him that morning. Maybe what she fantasized about on the plane (and let’s admit it, she scolded herself, she was fantasizing about Mulder) wasn’t so unrealistic after all.
“Mulder,” she giggled, “I hope you brought your Speedo.”
xXx
“Yes, sir. No, sir. Goldfish, sir. Yes, sir. Two weeks, sir. Goodbye, sir.”
“That was Skinner?” Scully asked lazily. She couldn’t muster up the energy to do more than adjust her lounge chair by the emerald hotel pool. The sun glinted off of everything, including her hair, which shone like copper. Mulder put the phone back in the case by the table that supported their tall, cool drinks, and lay back in his chair. With his sunglasses on, she couldn’t tell where was looking, if he was looking at her. She shrugged and sat up briefly to retrieve the lotion from her bag.
Fox reached over and took it from her hand. “I’ll do your back.” he offered.
She eyed him warily. “Why?”
“Because I want to rub my hands all over your nubile body.”
She stared at him. “Because you can’t reach it! Come on, Scully, give me a break.” She turned onto her stomach and waved her hand at him to do it.
He spread the lotion on her slowly. Her skin was like marble, smooth and cool, even though it was 80 degrees outside. Mulder counted the smattering of freckles on her shoulders, that joined together in abstract patterns, and continued down her spine. She shifted slightly.
“Mulder, I think that my back is well-protected now. It’s been ten minutes…” she protested, a tremor in her voice. She felt like she had just run up ten flights of stairs, but she hadn’t moved from the poolchair. She sat up and turned to look at him, but he was facing away from her.
Against all better judgement, she lay her hand on his sun- browned back. “Do you want me to do you now?” He turned slowly to finally face her, and lifted her hand from his skin.
His voice was deeper than usual and he spoke slowly.
“Dana, I think that would be a bad idea.”
She tilted her head and squinted her eyes against the sun. “Why?”
His voice was quiet. “I don’t need it.” She searched his eyes for laughter, she could see none. What she did see there made her catch her breath in her throat.
Mulder watched her carefully. “I don’t mind getting burned.” Scully’s eyes widened.
Mulder leaned towards her. Scully felt, rather than saw the anticipatory glint in his eyes. Her heart ached with longing, but her head ruled as usual. She stood up quickly, nearly bashing her partner’s head in the process. He looked up at her, puzzled.
“Dana?”
She sighed. “Mulder, are you…” He stared at her, and she sagged down in the chair again. “Are you trying to… you know.”
“I know what?”
He couldn’t be this dense, not right now, even for him. “Make a pass at me?” She said hesitantly, but not with distaste. He was grateful for the lack of repulsion in her voice at the prospect of him kissing her. “Because if you are…” she warned.
“You’ll arrest me?” He blinked innocently at her. “Will you put me in handcuffs too?”
She shook her head. He must have been joking. She started to get up again, but he laid a strong golden arm on her and gently pulled her down.
“Do you know why we’re here?”
Scully looked around at the palm trees surrounding the hotel, and the azure water lapping at the sides of the pool, sparkling in the unrelenting sun. “Sure, I’m on vacation.”
Fox slid his hand down her arm to take her delicate hand in his. “No,” he corrected slowly, “We’re on vacation. Together. You and me. Just us.”
She couldn’t escape his penetrating gaze. “Us,” she repeated. Oh, what the hell, she thought. She knew she wanted to kiss him, so what was stopping her? Her own foolish pride, that’s what. Maybe he didn’t want to kiss her, maybe he didn’t think of her that way, maybe-
“Urmph,” Dana squealed as Fox’s curving mouth swooped down on hers unexpectedly. Her teal eyes widened in shock, then focused on his hazel ones softly. She felt like she was melting, like thousands of electric shocks were coursing through his body and into hers. Her knees felt like jello, even though she was sitting down. After what seemed like years, he moved away from her, still holding her hands.
Scully’s eyes slowly slid up his tanned chest to meet his penetrating gaze. What was she supposed to say? “Thank you.” Ow, that wasn’t it.
Mulder grinned and grasped her hands even more tightly. “You’re welcome.” His partner smiled shyly. He wondered if he had done the wrong thing, if he had irrevocably jeopardized their friend- ship by succumbing to his desires. She was his desire, always would be.
“Mulder, I think we need to talk.”
“Yeah, what am I going to tell Frohicke?”
Dana didn’t get the joke, as usual. She swung her feet down and they slapped on the concrete as she rose up to her often intimidating 5′2″ height, and stared at him angrily. Angry and hurt.
“Frohicke? Was this some kind of bet, Mulder?” he frowned. “Because if it was-”
Mulder stood up beside her. “Scully, look at the floor.” She just knew he wasn’t listening to her, he had that look on her face, that let’s-humor-Dana look. He always got it when she tried to dispel his wacky paranormal theories with sane medical explanations. She looked down at her feet and gasped.
Easily a foot of water was covering the concrete pool deck, lapping against the chairs, and Mulder and Scully’s legs. She could see his toes wiggling beneath the ripples. Her eyes scanned around to the pool, which was now overflowing, and it seemed to be constantly churning and spewing up more water.
Finally she spoke. “Do you think there’s something wrong with the pump?”
“If there is, we should ask for our money back,” he joked.
She tried again. “Maybe some sort of underground spring broke through.” He shook his head disbelievingly.
Mulder reached down and trailed his fingers through it, then raised them to his mouth. Scully’s hand snapped on his wrist.
“You don’t know if it’s safe,” she hissed. He gave her a sardonic look, then licked a drop from his index finger.
“Seawater.” Their previous conversation now completely forgotten, she stared at him in amazement.
“But we’re in the middle of the desert.”
Mulder waded over to a house phone, and reached for it.
“Mulder, wait!” He spun around, creating tiny waves around his ankles. Scully shook her head at him. “You’re standing in a foot of water, Mulder, you’re a natural conducter,” she explained.
“Oh, right.” His hand dropped to his side, and he waded back to her side. She looked around in bewilderment, then a purpose glinted in her eyes. She strode off as gracefully as she could in 16 inches of water (was it rising?).
“Scully, where-” Mulder called out after her.
“To see the Manager,” she replied, not even turning around. “Are you coming?” Mulder shrugged, picked up his still cold drink, and followed her.
xXx
“I’m sorry, Agent Scully, for any inconvenience you might have had.” Mr. Leon Barber linked his fingers together and propped his chin on his hands. “But I’m afraid,” he looked over to include Mulder, “that I don’t have an explanation for you.”
Scully, standing by his desk, shifted her weight onto her other hip. “How long has this been happening? Have your people checked it out? Have you called Public Works?” she demanded.
“2 weeks, yes, and yes. They said they would get someone on it.”
Mulder coughed quietly to get Scully’s attention. He nodded towards the door. Scully turned back to Barber.
“Excuse us for a minute.” Barber busied himself with paperwork on his desk, but was careful not to ruffle the papers so much to block out what they were saying in the corner.
“Scully, those pictures I showed you were fakes. I had no idea this was actually going on here.” She raised an eyebrow, unconvinced.
She tilted her head. “I don’t know, Mulder. It seems awfully fortuitous, doesn’t it. Me in a swimsuit. Paranormal activity? Sounds like your ideal vacation.”
“I’m telling you, I had nothing to do with this. I just wanted to get you into bed,” her partner teased. Maybe.
Scully spun around to question Barber again.
“Have you had any unusual accidents or deaths here since you noticed this… problem?” Barber looked shocked.
“No, of course not. The publicity would kill us. If you’ll pardon the expression.” Barber smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Mulder had the sneaking suspicion that Barber was lying. He’d do anything to save his reputation, his job, and his hotel, in that order. Mulder didn’t trust him further than he could throw him, and heaven knows most of Fox’s strength was in his legs, not his arms.
“I’ll let you know if anything happens, of course,” Barber smiled again, but it seemed almost oily to Scully now. Her distaste of the man was increasing by the minute, she wondered idly what Mulder thought of him.
xXx
Ten minutes later they were walking down the hall to their rooms. Mulder threw his room key in the air playfully, and glanced down at Scully.
“So, what do you think?”
She snatched the key in midair. “Damnit, Mulder, you nearly took my eye out!” She glared at him, but he didn’t look very apologetic, more like a big kid who knew he wouldn’t be grounded, he was too adorable. She sighed in exasperation. “I think Barber is sleazy.” Mulder raised an eyebrow at her. “Well, maybe not sleazy, per se,” she amended, “but, well, you know…”
“Yeah, I noticed.” He stopped in front of his door, and held out his hand for the key that she still clutched. Scully dropped it in his outstretched palm, then sagged against the wall.
“I have to admit though, there is something very strange about this,” Scully remarked. Mulder fitted the key in the door and pushed it open.
He looked around in satisfaction. “Well, at least we know that housekeeping is on their toes,” he gestured to the made-up room.
“Big deal.” Scully strode into the room after him. “You didn’t even sleep in here last night.”
Mulder raised an eyebrow at her again, obviously remembering where he had slept. She remembered also, and blushed furiously.
“Why don’t you try to come up with some wacky theories. I’m going to have a quickie.”
He leered at her unsuccessfully, “You want company?”
“I meant a shower, Mulder, to rub some of this sunscreen off me,” she sighed in exasperation.
“Like I said, you want company?”
He barely avoided the shoe flung at his head, and watched her go through the connecting door into her room.
xXx
Scully’s head rested against the cool tiles, while water lightly beaded down her face. Mulder was insane for bringing her here. Well, maybe not insane. Sweet?
She shook her head, and tilted it back to wet her hair. The cool water sent shivers down her spine and goosebumps popped out on her now golden skin. She luxuriously soaped her body, then rapidly rinsed because she was now getting very cold. Her feet were numb, she realized, and looked down.
She gasped, partly from cold and partly from shock. The tub was almost full of freezing cold water. She bent down and checked the plug, which was sitting on the side of the tub where it was before. Scully reached up to turn off the water, which was not as cold as the water around her legs. She shifted slightly and saw a thin layer of ice break by her shins.
“Mulder!” She heard him fling open the bathroom door and skid towards her over the towels strewn on the floor.
“What is it? Are you okay?” She could hear the concern in his voice. She tried to alleviate it.
“I’m fine, but you should see this?”
“Oh, Scully, I thought you’d never ask.” She could hear him beat his chest melodramatically. “What will the office say?” Now he was laughing. Rats, she had forgotten she was naked. A chill ran down her backbone again, and her nipples puckered. From cold, she presumed. Or maybe it was arousal? She pushed the thought out of her head, this was just not the time…
A voice intruded on her lascivious thoughts. “Scully, are you naked?”
“Mulder, just hand me a towel, will you?”
A piece of plush white terrycloth appeared from the other side of the curtain, dangling from his finger.
“This is a facecloth!” Her voice echoed in the small room, but she giggled nonetheless. By now, her feet were starting to ache from cold, and her teeth started chattering.
“Mulder…” she warned.
He was still laughing, but he handed her a fullsize bath towel nonetheless. She wrapped it around herself quickly and dragged back the curtains. He was still laughing. She grimaced at him and carefully stepped over the side of the tub. He held out a hand to help her, but she ignored it imperiously.
Squeak… thump. Mulder looked down. He had to look down, he was bending over holding his sides with laughter. Scully was sprawled on the linoleum floor, her towel barely covering her sensitive areas. She clutched a fold in her hand and scrambled up. Tears were streaming down Mulder’s cheeks, and despite herself, she started to laugh. Mulder’s eyes dragged down her body, and his laughter faded. He dropped to the floor beside her and grabbed her foot.
“Scully, your feet are blue. My god, they feel like icecubes!” He was shocked. She stood up, wincing at the relative warmth of the floor on her near-frozen feet. She motioned towards the tub, and he rose on his knees and peered over the side of the porcelain tub. He broke a film of ice with his index finger, then trailed it in the water. Mulder could feel the nerves in his hand tingling from the cold.
“What is going on here, Mulder?” Scully asked quietly. She didn’t sound scared, but more intrigued, fascinated.
Hesitantly, he replied, “I don’t know, Scully.”
xXx
They ate dinner at the patio dining room, on the other side of the pool. The sun set quickly, blazing down into the mesas and bringing a navy velvet curtain of darkness with it.
Mulder looked up at the sky. “In Scotland, this is called the gloaming,” he remarked.
Scully sipped her wine. “Oh?” She didn’t sound very interested, but she was staring at him intently.
“Mulder…” she set her wine down. His gaze quickly travelled from the stars to the stars in her eyes. “I think we need to talk about what happened today.” Her eyes lowered. He plastered a fake bewildered look on his face.
“You mean the water?”
“You know what I mean. By the pool, when we…” she trailed off, obviously embarrassed.
“Kissed,” Fox supplied. Unable to speak, Dana merely nodded. His demeanor turned serious for once, and he reached across the table for her hand. “Did it bother you?”
She sighed, even almost shuddered. “Yes, it did,” she said frankly. She looked into his eyes and caught the hurt look there. Hastily, she appended, “But just because I didn’t expect it.”
He felt like a twelve year old. “Did you like it?”
She blushed again, and hoped he would attribute her color to the day’s sun. “Of course I did. I just don’t know what it means.”
Fox waved an approaching waiter away, wanting a little more privacy. “It means, Dana, that I like you.”
Unsure of what to say, and even of herself, she teased. “Bigger than a breadbox?”
He held out his arms to indicate much bigger than the proverbial breadbox. Her dark red lips formed an “Oh”, and her eyes widened, then dropped to her plate again.
“Scully, look at me,” Mulder demanded. She slid her eyes up to meet his. What she saw there both frightened her and exhilarated her. The air around them was throbbing with an electric intensity, snapping and crackling like a downed wire.
“Mulder, we’re partners, we can’t-”
“Dana, just answer me this: do you like me?”
She thought for a moment, debating with herself over her answer. An answer that would change their relationship forever.
“No.”
He felt like someone threw him off a bridge, and there was only concrete underneath. He felt like he was plummeting into a dark abyss. He was hit in the chest with a sledgehammer. He was-
“Mulder, I love you.” He was in shock.
Had she said the right thing? she wondered. She knew that was how she really felt, but was it what he wanted to hear? What she wanted to say to him? She had let down all her walls before giving him a chance to scale them to get to her. She couldn’t help being afraid for the few moments before he answered her.
“You can call me Fox.”
She took a deep breath. “Okay. Fox, I love you.”
He grinned. She sighed in relief and smiled. “I love you too, Dana.” She felt the vise on her heart loosen, and her smile nearly reached her ears. Until she remembered-
“What about Skinner?”
“Who?”
She kicked him under the table, and his foot caught her leg and kept it pressed against his. “Skinner our boss Skinner.” His foot started to rub up and down her bare leg. She almost let out a gasp of instantaneous arousal, but held it in at the last minute.
“Skinner doesn’t have to know,” Fox murmured. Skinner? she wondered. Why was he talking about Skinner? Oh, right.
A white-coated man interrupted her dreamy haze of thoughts. “What can I get you folks for dinner?” Mulder looked to Scully, she nodded imperceptibly.
Mulder, never taking his eyes off of Scully, said “The cheque.”
“But sir, you haven’t eaten-” he saw the look in Mulder’s eyes, tore off a piece of paper, and placed it on the table.
xXx
Palm Springs Part Four
^^^^
The key clinked against the metal of the doorhandle. The knob twisted, glinting in the moonlight coming from the window across the room. The door slowly opened, and two figures entered, hand in hand. The woman was slight, with fiery hair and delicate features, the man tall and tanned. They walked together as one, as if they knew each others souls and hearts better than their own. They were in their own world, full of starlight and champagne bubbles and-
“Ewgh.” The champagne bubbles popped.
Mulder frowned at his companion. “What is it, Scully?”
She gingerly lifted her sandal-clad foot. A small pool of water formed in the depression of her footprint in the plush hotel carpet. Mulder gaped down, then clenched his jaw shut. He squished over to the bed, and sat down wearily on it.
“We are doomed.” He threw his hands in the air in mock resignation. “That’s all there is to it. Somebody-” Scully looked up at the ceiling in spite of herself. “-just doesn’t want us to be together.”
She sat down on the bed beside him. “Mulder, we’ve been together for two years!”
He shrugged and looked at her forlornly, but joking. “I meant in the biblical sense.”
“Oh.” Just then they shared something they never had before. Their first awkward silence. It was like a black hole in the room. Until Scully jumped up, creating a splash of icy water against the side of the bed.
She grabbed his hand and pulled him up. “Come on, Mulder, we have a case to pursue. A real one this time.”
One floor down, the Klepskys were enjoying their first holiday ever without the kids. And they were definitely enjoying it. Until they heard a knock at the door.
“Ignore it,” Mrs. Klepsky breathed. Her husband grunted and continued his er, husbandly activities.
On the other side of the door, Scully murmured to Mulder, “Do you think we have cause to use our badges?” He shrugged. She rapped on the door again, this time calling out, “FBI! Open up!” A distinct blasphemy was heard on the other side of the door, before it was flung open by a man in very loud flowered boxer shorts.
Mulder’s eyes travelled downward as his right eyebrow travelled skyhigh. “I prefer black silk, myself,” he said sardonically. Scully ignored him, and focused on the occupants of the room.
Stepping inside, she shifted her gaze from the man, and the semi-clad woman on the unmade bed, to the stucco ceiling above. She nudged Mulder and pointed.
“Nothing.” She frowned, confused. Their floor was sopping wet, why was there no indication of it anywhere else in the hotel?
Mrs. Klepsky was now shrieking and pointing at Mulder’s still-drawn gun. Her husband was frantically trying to calm her, but to no avail. Mulder shrugged his broad shoulders imperceptibly, and mouthed to Scully, “Hysterical.” He replaced the gun back in his holster, which seemed to placate the woman a little.
After many blushing apologies from Dana, and equally embarrassed protestations from the Klepskys, the intrepid duo left the room to return to theirs. Mulder flopped down on the bed, obviously puzzled.
“I don’t get it, Scully.”
She raised an eyebrow at him. Damn, he thought, she was good at that. “And you know what, Mulder?” He propped himself up on his elbows, waiting for her answer. She moved over to the bed, the enigma of the water forgotten. Her voice darkened with latent desire. “You might actually get it tonight.”
She leaned over him slowly, her titian hair swaying almost against his forehead. He looked pensive, but distracted. She had almost come to the conclusion that he wasn’t thinking about her, when he confirmed her suspicions. He jumped up suddenly, nearly knocking her seductive pose into a nearby table.
“Scully, this is really a case!” He ran his lean fingers through his hair jaggedly. She dropped onto the bed, feeling very deflated. Dana could hear the rising excitement in his voice, as she’d heard it hundreds of times before. Her partner was chattering on about droughts in western Texas, but she blocked his voice out. Why did she do this to herself? Too scared to do anything about her feelings, then when she did: whammo! Instant rejection. Well, a kind of rejection. Immediate rejection anyways. Her spirits soared at the possibilities.
“Scully?” She looked up at him blankly. “We need to call Skinner,” Mulder affirmed. She nodded her head, hoping that this case wouldn’t take too long to solve, or they were going to run out of vacation time.
Mulder sat down on the bed beside her again, and started punching numbers into the phone.
xXx
“The fish are dead.”
“What?”
“Skinner murdered my fish. He overfed them.”
Scully didn’t know what to say. “Oh.” Well, that would have to do for now, she guessed. Mulder never talked about the fish as other people rhapsodized about their pets, but it was obvious that he liked having animate companions at home. She got the feeling sometimes that he got lonely, hell, who didn’t? She would never tell him that she knew, but one day she heard him actually talking to the fish in the aquarium in the corner of his small living room.
She patted his shoulder, still unsure of what to say. Maybe she’d be better off focusing on the case right now.
“So, Mulder, what else did Skinner say?”
Mulder lowered his head and studied a piece of lint on his trousers. “Skinner said to send the Bureau a sample of the water, to find out what’s in it, and then he’d decide whether or not to assign us this case.” He reached over into the drawer in the bedside table and withdrew a small black notebook and a pen.
Scully suddenly had a sneaking suspicion. She pondered sardonically, “Let me guess…”
“Yes, Scully, I already sent some to DC this afternoon.” She sighed. Sometimes it was good that Mulder didn’t play by the rules, but sometimes it just made him a royal pain in the backside. She pushed herself up from Mulder’s bed wearily.
“So, I guess that’s it until morning, for the case anyways,” Dana hinted, but Mulder was engrossed in his own thoughts. “Mulder?” He didn’t answer, didn’t even seem to notice that she was talking to him. “Fox!” His head whipped around.
He scowled. “What?”
“I’m going to bed now.”
“Hmm? Uh, okay. See you in the morning, Scully.” He started writing in his little notebook again, and pushed himself back on the bed so he could rest against the headboard. Dana headed towards the connecting door, muttering under her breath.
“Your loss, Mulder.”
xXx
Rats. She couldn’t sleep. Dana knew she was tired, she felt a heaviness in her limbs, and her head fell like a brick onto the pillow not ten minutes ago. But something was different, not like the feeling of sleepiness that she was used to. Her skin was tingling, and her entire body seemed overly sensitive. She could feel each thread in the percale cotton sheets rasp against her, and she could feel the variations in the feather pillow under her cheek. She turned over on her stomach and her nipples tightened with increasing sensitivity as they brushed against the sheet. It felt like her whole body was flushed and strumming, waiting for something, or someone. Her grey eyes flew open with a start and she could feel herself blushing.
She flipped onto her back and stared at the stucco ceiling. “Damn that Mulder,” she whispered. She was now not only tired, she was also very aroused. It took her a few minutes to recognize the state, as it was one she was unaccustomed to being in lately. Her toes curled against the cool sheets and she stretched her supple arms over her fiery head. She brought them down slowly and lay the back of her hand against her forehead.
She hoped that he was suffering too.
On the other side of the wall, Special Agent Fox Mulder was having the best dream of his life. Special Agent Dana Scully was in it.
xXx
Mulder ripped the page off of the fax machine sitting on a credenza in the Leon Barber’s office. He studied it for a moment, then thrust it into Scully’s hand and walked out of the office. Barber sneered at him on his way out the door. Dana followed him, the sheet of paper in her hand. She gave Barber the briefest of nods on her way out the door.
“What is it?” her voice filled the small hallway.
He didn’t look back. “Read it for yourself.”
Scully sighed in exasperation and glanced down at the fax, careful not to walk into any walls while she was reading. She skimmed a few lines, then screeched to a halt.
“Mulder, this is amazing.” He turned back, realizing that she was further behind him than he had thought. “The water itself just seems to be some sort of conduit for this synthetic chemical.” Her red head bobbed in excitement as she looked up at her partner walking towards her. She frowned when she noticed that her fervor wasn’t contagious. That was strange, it was usually the other way around. “Mulder, do you know what this means?”
He looked down at her, moving his head carefully so as not to bump into the hanging light in the hallway. She caught his eyes, but she couldn’t see what he was thinking. Finally, he said, “It seems to be some kind of synthetic pheremone compound.” Her eyes shone and she perused the sheet again, a crease in her forehead forming.
“Well, it’s one I’ve never seen before, that’s for sure.” They started to walk down the hall again towards the lobby. “Is it…” she searched for a way to ask without inciting Mulder’s imagination, then decided that it was futile, “man-made?”
He swivelled his greenish eyes on her, catching hers in a silent mocking bond as they approached the elevator banks. “Are you asking me if I think this stuff has alien origins, Scully?”
She blushed, surprised at the velocity her own thoughts had taken in that direction. Maybe she had been working with Mulder for too long.
“Well…” Scully started. She punched the elevator button for the third floor and folded the piece of paper in her hand. After it was tucked into her pocket, she asked, “Is there anyway we can find out if this material has a government patent, or serial number?”
“I’ve got some people working on that in DC.” Mulder stared at the numbers briefly flashing above his head, then the elevator glided to a silent halt. The doors opened, and he motioned for Scully to precede him. She looked at him strangely, confused at his lack of enthusiasm over this bizarre revelation. What was he thinking? she wondered. She decided to let him formulate his theories in his own handsome head, then get back to her.
“Um, Scully?”
“Yes?” she anticipated.
They approached his door. “I’ll meet you downstairs for breakfast in a few minutes, okay?” She felt deflated all of a sudden. Serves her right for hoping that Mulder would confide in her, even if it was only a crazy theory about UFO involvement in the irrigation of Southern California she scolded herself silently.
“Sure, see you-” she stopped as he closed the door absently on her. She pivoted on her heel, and took the extra steps towards her room, muttering something under her breath about bad manners and spankings.
xXx
Mulder sat heavily down in a chintz-covered chair in his room, ruminating. His first thought when he had sufficiently read the fax, and understood its meaning, was that the pheremones were obviously some sort of experiment on the hotel guests and staff. Including him, he realized with dismay. His thoughts turned in a different direction, to Dana. Was it possible that they were attracted to each other, even confessed their love to each other, just because of the latent manipulation of this material in the water? The water that surrounded them earlier, that swirled around their ankles and tickled their toes, did it use them? A loud sound echoed in the corner of the room, sounding suspiciously like Mulder smacking himself in the forehead.
He hoped it wasn’t true, that his love, or even his lust for her was beyond his control in its inception. He wanted to love her, that was enough, for now at least.
xXx
The hotel dining room was empty, but for Mulder and Scully. Scully looked around in amazement, then flicked her wrist in order to check her watch.
“It’s only 9:30, where is everyone?” she wondered out loud. Mulder murmured his agreement, this was strange. The hotel, he knew, was almost booked solid. Basic statistical odds demanded that there would be at least a few people in the now cavernous room. He winced as his knife dinged against his water glass, it seemed to echo throughout the room.
He grinned in spite of himself. “Maybe they’re all out on the golf course.”
A waitress approached their table, pad and pen ready to take their breakfast order.
Scully ordered granola, fresh fruit and yogurt. After Mulder had completed making his standard order of eggs, sausages, toast, assorted beverages (*and* a piece of pie), he folded his menu and returned it to the waitress.
“By the way,” Scully asked, “Where is everyone?” The waitress looked blankly at her. Scully tried again. “It just seems strange that the dining room is so empty, especially at this time of day.”
The waitress blushed. “Um, we had an extraordinary number of, er, room service orders for this morning.” The crimson flush on her cheeks deepened. “I get the impression that a lot of the guests wanted to have breakfast, um, in bed this morning.” She frowned. “Except for you two, of course.” Mulder and Scully looked each other silently, realizing the insinuations. Scully blushed and Mulder looked away towards the windows. He heard the familiar sound of liquid being poured, and the rich odor of fresh coffee wafted into his nose, which twitched in silent reaction. When he looked back, the waitress had left.
He joked feebly, “Must be something in the water.”
Scully looked pensive. “Then how come it’s not affecting us?” Her partner looked at her with a combination of disdain and disbelief. She held up her hand. “Okay, well, not too much anyhow.”
Mulder sipped his coffee. “Maybe we’d better talk to our good buddy Leon again after breakfast, see what he knows about this.” Scully fiddled with her fork, nodding her assent. She wouldn’t meet his eyes. It seemed as though it was taking a thousand years for her cheeks to cool. Must be steam from the coffee, she reasoned.
xXx
Palm Springs Part Five
^^^^
Leon Barber was anxious. Well, at least, sweat was beading down his temples, his stomach was roiling, and he couldn’t quite get this wretched tic in his eye to roll over and die.
He paced back and forth in his tiny office, glancing nervously at the fax machine sitting on his oak credenza. He whipped his head around as a connection was made, and paper started slowly appearing. Stepping quickly over to the machine, he yanked the paper out of the tray, and read it. He nodded silently, his eyes shifting from the paper in his hand to a small metal wastebasket in the corner. Moments later, he held the now-burning piece of paper over the rim, the flames licking upwards towards the federal seal near his hand.
xXx
“Okay, so we know that these pheremones now are man-made, not of alien origin,” Mulder reassessed as he got off the phone with the Lone Gunmen office in DC. Scully was sitting cross-legged on the bed beside him, typing frantically into her laptop. Mulder waved a hand before her face. “Yoohoo!” He cupped his palm around his mouth, now tilting at the corners. “Paging Dr. Scully.”
His partner pushed a piece of auburn hair out of her eyes, and batted his hand away afterwards. “I heard you, Mulder, not alien. Now what?” Her eyes never left the small monitor, her fingers still furiously clacking away. Mulder leaned over to see what she was writing. It seemed to him to be some sort of written diagnostic test, and some random notes on the chemical compound in the water. He pointed at the screen, and looked up to see her face.
“Hey, do you really think that may be true?”
Scully looked to where his finger was pointing at her notes, then carefully removed her glasses. She rubbed the bridge of her nose, replied slowly. “I think it’s possible that this compound is virtually harmless, unless combined with another chemical in the body. That might allow for a control group.” He looked blankly at her. She tried to explain. “Well, if it’s in the water, then everyone would be affected. Not quite everyone is, according to the concierge. It would be reasonable to suggest that the pheremone in the water would only be activated by another chemical, introduced in certain foods or something like that which could be more easily controlled.”
Mulder stood up and stretched his arms over his head, his brow furrowed in thought. He slowly lowered his arms and dug into his pocket for a package of seeds. His head swivelled around to look around the room,then his gaze focused on the window. Scully waited patiently for his revelation. He didn’t speak for several minutes, until she started to lose her control over her own curiosity.
“Okay, Mulder,” she sighed, “What is it?”
His hazel eyes spun around to focus on her, then shifted away almost guiltily. Now she was intrigued.
“Scully,” he gnawed on a sunflower seed shell, “I’m not sure you’ll like my theory here.”
She raised an eyebrow, then patted the bed beside her. “Try me.” He sat down on the bed next to her, but still didn’t look at her. He took a deep breath, and began.
“Okay, let’s look at the facts. The water only came to us when we were getting, well, let’s just say friendly.” Scully started to say something, but stopped when she saw his face. “The concierge also said that other people complained about the water when they were in the throes of whatever. The water is cold, so I think it comes from some sort of underground well or reservoir. Its arrival is triggered by certain chemicals, or pheremones that we-” she caught his eye, silently warning him, “people release during sexual arousal.”
“Mulder…” her warning was no longer silent.
He looked at her seriously. “Scully, just think about it. By the pool, when we kissed. After dinner, by the bed.” He shook his head in amusement. “I don’t know what you were thinking in the shower, but it must’ve been something.”
She playfully tossed a pillow at his head,then her expression turned serious. “Okay, you may be right.” She held up her hand to stop him from interrupting. “To a certain extent. That’s all, Mulder.” She looked around the room. “There must be some sort of hidden gauge in here that can measure radiating body temperature or natural pheremones, or something that would set off the water.”
Now it was her that wouldn’t meet his eyes.
xXx
Twenty minutes later, after a thorough search of the room, they had uncovered two empty bags of sunflower seeds, one comb, and a half-used book of matches, but nothing overtly suspicious. Well, other than an unused box of condoms that Scully saw in the drawer of Mulder’s bedside table. She decided wryly not to mention it to him. The fact that the box was unopened had not escaped her attention though, and pleased her, although she had no idea why.
Mulder turned to her as she slid the drawer shut.
“Well, what now?” he asked, resting one hand on his hip lightly. She pivoted on an espadrille-clad heel to face him.
“Well, the next question is where does the water come from? How can we find out?”
Mulder stared at her with an unusual intensity. “We could try a little scientific experiment.” He smiled. Realization dawned on Dana and her mouth formed a silent oh.
“Um, Mulder, are you aware of what you are suggesting?”
His eyes glinted as creases formed around their hazel depths with his smile, which was now getting bigger and bigger. Dana stepped back slowly, unsure of what to do. “Mulder, in the defense of scientific and professional interests, I don’t think- ouch!” she had backed into the bedside table without noticing. Mulder was still approaching her, stalking her with his lascivious intent.
He lay his finger on her soft lips. “Don’t think.”
She was shaken, but more astonished to realize that she wanted him as much as he wanted her. She remembered the box in the table by her knees, and thought, what the hell.
Fox was now standing in front of her, his thighs lightly brushing her. She could feel the tension in his body, and the warmth of his breath on her cheek, as she raised her eyes to meet his. They were darkened with desire, and Scully’s pupils widened in automatic response. She became faintly aware the sunlight piercing through the gauzy curtains on the other side of the room. The rays dappled across the bed, illuminating little pockets of design on the quilt. Her eyes never leaving his, Dana sank down onto the bed silently. He grinned at her, and she crooked her finger at him in invitation.
Mulder reached down and gripped her hips lightly. He pushed her back on the bed until she was lying down. As she wriggled backwards, her skirt rose exposing her shapely legs. His eyes widened further as he caught sight of her gold silk tap pants gleaming in a pocket of sunlight. She reached for his hand, and sat up slightly. Scully started unbuttoning his shirt slowly, then her hands increased their trembling, and she gave up near the bottom. Her hand fell limply onto the bed, and she closed her eyes briefly. She heard the sound of cloth ripping, and her eyes flew open to see Mulder ripping the rest of his own shirt open. She drowned in his eyes as he leaned over her again, reaching for her blouse. While he was fumbling with her buttons, Dana slid his shirt off his shoulders, then pulled him down to her. Finally, he kissed her, with all the passion and ferocity that he had repressed before.
She kissed him back hard, breathing in his smell and his own breath deeply. He invaded her senses, she couldn’t get enough of him. He pulled back slightly, in order to remove the rest of his clothing, and hers. She tried to help, but felt like she was moving in a thick mist, and was powerless in his hands. His lean hands slid up her ribcage, and forward around to her breasts. She gasped as his thumbs brushed over her painfully hard nipples, and he swooped down to take her moist curving mouth again. Her tongue ran lightly over his lips and she could feel him shudder against her. He felt like he was sliding into an alternate universe, with just the two of them, and the sensation of their skin melting together to become one. He fell fully onto the bed beside her and gathered her up in his arms, pulling her closer. The sunlight danced on the fine hairs of her arms as she wrapped them around his waist. He looked deep into her eyes, silently asking, pleading to please her. She nodded slightly, afraid of speaking. There was no turning back now, they both knew that. Her teeth started chattering, but not from cold. He felt her mouth shuddering under his, then relax to drink him in. He ran his hand lightly across her hip, and she instinctively moved as close to him as she could get.
He rolled her over so that she was lying on top of him, her satiy skin rubbing against his. She reached between their bodies and found him pulsating against her stomach. Her fingers brushed against him, rubbing across the bead of moisture at the top. She could feel all his muscles clench as she suddenly gripped him, lost in her own feverish world. She smiled as she saw him grimace at her torturing touch. They turned onto their sides, writhing in the sun. She was so engrossed that she didn’t notice his own hand moving lower. Her smile turned to an indescribable expression as he combed his fingers through the light red hair to find her. All of her breath whooshed out of her chest as he plunged a finger into her. His eyes never left hers, as she squirmed and forgot what she was doing to him entirely. He reached his other hand over to the bedside table and withdrew the box. She grabbed it and ripped it open with trembling hands. After a minute, he lay throbbing against her leg, and his hands spanned her waist and lay her on top of him.
She could hear water rushing in the background, echoing in the feverish recesses of her head. She knew that it was important somehow, but she couldn’t bring herself to concentrate on it. She shook her head, trying to get her fiery hair out of her flushed face. The warmth enveloped her entire body, and radiated onto his. Or was it the other way around? She reached for him, and slowly slid down onto him. His brow was damp with patience and exertion as he moved beneath her. The tempo increased slowly as she stretched her arms up and cradled his head in her supple hands. Her hair feathered against his face and his chest, as she leaned down to kiss his gleaming torso. She lightly scored his nipples with her fingernails,then dragged them down his stomach. His hands closed tightly on her hips and he pulled himself deeper into her. Their bodies moved quickly, but deliberately in a silent ballet of passion. Suddenly, he let out a hoarse shout, and she a husky groan as their desire erupted together in a frenzy of excitement. She stretched out onto his full length, her smile reaching from ear to ear. He was grinning too, she could feel it.
“I love you,” he murmured into her ear. His breath tickled, and she turned her head to look into his eyes.
“I love you more,” she challenged him breathlessly.
“I love you most.” He patted her behind and she laughed in defeat.
She pushed her hair behind her ears. “Scientific experiment, my ass.”
“I like your ass.” He gently stroked her contours, until she lightly slapped his hand away.
“Mulder,” she grinned, “you are an ass.”
“Hee haw,” he wheezed in response. She giggled, then looked around. He could feel her body freeze against him. “What is it?” he enquired.
She pointed silently at the floor, now under six inches of water.
Mulder rolled over on the bed to look at the water on the floor. His arm flexed as it propped up in front of Scully’s chest, her hair tickled his chin as he peered over her. She turned her head back to focus her sparkling eyes on him.
“Well, what do you think?” she asked him.
Instead of answering, he slapped her hip lightly and jumped over her to stand in the shallow lake around the bed. He waded over to the phone while Scully sat up, holding the rumpled sheet up over her breasts, still flushed and tingling. She pulled herself up onto her knees and leaned over the side of the bed, trailing her finger in the icy water.
Mulder turned to look at her in the middle of his heated conversation with Leon Barber and saw a frown marring her creamy forehead as a sopping wet shoes dangled from her right hand, and her silk underwear from her left. After a few minutes of displaced grunts and queries, Mulder placed the phone back in its cradle and sat on the bed again. The movement created a ripple effect that lapped against the bedside table. Scully watched it, fascinated. A small furrow between her eyes remained as she looked around the floor.
“Maybe the vents?” she murmured, half to herself and half to Mulder. He nodded in agreement and kneeled down in the water to search for a point of entry.
His legs splashed around as he circled the bed, feeling for jet streams under his fingertips, finding none. “So, our experiment worked, Agent Scully.” He raised his head to grin at her. She considered throwing a pillow at him, but decided that it would take too long to dry. She reached down onto the floor, then her face lit up with a stunning smile as his saturated silk boxers slapped against his head with a satisfying slurp.
“Are you going to help me?” a muffled voice emanated from the floor. He stripped off the underwear impeding his vision only to see her tiny pink toes wiggling happily in front of his face. He reached out and yanked the attached slim ankles and Scully hit the floor with a splash and an ooph, bringing half of the now- wet bedcovers with her. A glimpse of curved breast flashed before him, and his palms itched to touch her again. He restrained himself, which wasn’t too hard. The icy water in which he was currently sitting was a natural deterrent. He heard a grumble from his sexy partner.
“Okay, okay, I’m looking…”
xXx
Leon Barber was wearing a groove in the floor of his office. The small trench was being formed as he paced back and forth, waiting. Suddenly the shrill peal of the telephone rang out and he snatched up the receiver. He nodded as he listened carefully, memorizing the instructions. He only spoke once.
He tugged on his tie. “Expendable, sir?” he grew quiet again and continued to nod. He hung up a few minutes later. The coatrack in the corner wobbled precariously after he grabbed his jacket and ran out the door.
“Scully, look!” Mulder pointed at the figure of Leon Barber walking quickly across the lobby. He seemed nervous, and his eyes darted around furtively, even though his head remained focused on the glass doors ten feet in front of him. Scully and Mulder were lurking behind a large potted palm near the doors. Their search in the room proved fruitless, just like their previous one, the one that got them into trouble in the first place. They yanked on some dry clothes, stopping only to peek at each other in various stages of dishabille and smile tenderly. Scully smiled now as she remembered that Mulder could not find any clean underwear, and was currently not wearing any.
Mulder recognized that look on her face, and the devilish grin across it as her eyes lowered from Barber to her partner’s pants.
He sighed and tipped her chin upwards. “Dana, I love you dearly, but now is not the time.”
“Party pooper.”
“Gutter brain.” Aware that they were completely hidden by the plant, Dana licked the tip of Fox’s nose playfully and turned to follow Barber. Mulder grinned to himself and wiped his nose with the back of his hand before following her out the lobby doors.
Barber was by now scurrying towards the equipment shed on the other side of the tennis courts. His shoes clacked against the terracotta tiles of the path, and Mulder swore he could smell Barber’s haircream melting in the hot sun. He and Scully slipped behind a short wall when Barber looked behind him as he approached the shed. He fumbled with the lock briefly and disappeared inside.
Mulder drew his gun, as did Scully. He motioned silently for her to go low, and him high, before they opened the door. They moved quickly and silently, but the shed was empty. A lone naked lightbulb swung absently, casting long and strange shadows around the shelves and miscellaneous items. It batted against Mulder’s head, instigating a short game of tetherball. Scully pointed towards a trapdoor in the floor. It was about two feet by two feet, and though small, was big enough for either of them, or Barber to get through. Mulder shook his head as Scully withdrew her FBI issue flashlight from her jacket pocket.
“Let me guess-you were a Girl Scout?”
“Be prepared, Mulder,” she retorted as she disappeared into the dark hole beneath them.
Scully shone the light around at the bottom. There was a dank narrow tunnel heading north, they could see a dim light several feet into it.
“Barber!” Mulder shouted. The echoes rang in Scully’s ears painfully. Mulder grasped her elbow gently and pulled her in the direction of the tunnel.
“Mulder, we have one flashlight and no idea what we are getting into. This is not exactly Bureau procedure.”
“Well, since this isn’t actually a case, then it shouldn’t matter,” he replied easily, ducking as the roof of the tunnel got lower.
“In that case, it’s probably illegal.” Mulder shrugged disinterestedly at her warning words. Scully stared after his retreating form in the tunnel, then scurried after him.
The light gleamed against the walls, which seemed slick with moisture. Mulder stopped briefly to trail his finger down the glistening surface and licked the tip.
“It’s just like the water before,” he frowned, “only stronger. Saltier somehow.”
Scully nodded. “We must be nearing the source. What do you think Barber’s connection is to this whole thing?” The tunnel grew narrower suddenly, and Mulder let Scully take the flashlight and the lead, falling in single file. The dampness in the air clung to them, and curled the hair around Dana’s face.
“I think Barber is the sort of manager in charge of this experiment here at the hotel.” He tugged on a button on his shirt, it was getting warmer the further they ventured into the tunnel.
“Do you think he works for the government?”
“I’m not sure that this is a ‘government’ project. It may be more covert than that. Barber is too smart to be a regular government employee, but he’s also too inept to be a MIB.” Scully looked back at him, Mulder shrugged. “So to speak.” The passage grew smaller yet again, and now they had to crawl on their knees to continue. The light ahead of them was getting brighter, but wavered in reflections off the walls around them. Scully could feel herself getting slightly claustrophobic, as well as hot and sweaty, and she pulled her clinging blouse away from her sticky skin briefly.
Scully’s behind swayed provocatively in front of him, and he allowed himself to regress briefly to their afternoon interlude. He was amazed not only at how wonderful it was, but how it made his love for her stronger. He recalled her cries of passion, and the way she said his name, and felt himself flushing. Now was not the time, he scolded himself, but his pants were feeling awfully tight all of a sudden.
They batted around ideas easily, as they always did. They talked seriously until they noticed that the tunnel was widening, and they were approaching the source of the light.
“Well, it’s about time,” Mulder sighed with relief. “I can’t feel my knees anymore.” Scully leaned over and squeezed them.
“They’re still there.” She squinted and smiled. “But I think we may have to have your lower legs amputated.”
Her partner grimaced. “Ugh. Then I’d be as short as you.” He didn’t have time to avoid the hand flailing out to whap his head.
“Sorry. Muscle spasm.”
“Yeah, right.” He looked around the small chamber that they had just entered. It was much the same as the rest of the previous tunnel, but in it were three large steel vats, with pipes reaching through the cavern ceiling. Flourescent lights were strung around the small space. The air was steamy and thick.
Scully looked in one of the tanks. “It’s the water. This must be where it’s stored,” she looked up, “then it goes to the hotel via these pipes. Like an aqueduct.” She reached her arm up, pulling her blouse out of her skirt. The glimpse of bare skin tantalized Mulder, and he shifted uncomfortably. Dana dipped her hand in the water, then pulled it out quickly.
“Hot?”
She looked puzzled for a moment as she stared at her fingers. “No. Cold. Very very cold.”
Mulder walked around briefly. “Well, maybe that would explain the heat in here. It would take a great amount of energy to refrigerate this-” he gestured towards the vats, “stuff.”
“Um, Mulder?”
“Yeah, Scully?”
“Do you think the water,” she waved her hand towards the tank, “is still effective? The high level of humidity in here might indicate a release of the pheremones into the air.”
“Inducing sexual arousal?”
“Do you think that’s possible?”
Mulder looked down at his straining fly. “Yes,” he agreed slowly, “I think that’s possible.” Scully’s eyes darted downwards, then widened into blue-grey saucers. She met his eyes, and they both nodded.
“Not now,” they echoed, then smiled. A noise in the corner startled them, and they swivelled towards it, guns drawn in anticipation. They heard a scuffle of footsteps, and Mulder’s lips set in a grim line.
“Barber!” Scully gestured for them to circle around to where the noise came from, effectively cornering him, even though there was only the two of them. Mulder motioned for Scully to get him on her side, and he would block on the other side of the tank.
A few minutes later, Barber was standing in the middle of the small room, with two pistols pointing straight at him.
“Tell us what you know,” Mulder demanded. Barber looked stonily at him and said nothing. Scully repeated Mulder’s question, but to no avail. Leon Barber was just not cooperating. Mulder watched him carefully, then pulled out a pair of cuffs, intent on snapping them on the hotel manager’s wrists.
Scully sidled over to Mulder and hissed in his ear, “And just what do you plan on charging him with?”
“How about obstruction of justice, concealing evidence, tampering with federal property?”
She was puzzled. “Tampering with federal property?”
“Us.” Realization dawned on her.
“Oh boy, I’d love to see how you explain that to Skinner in our report.” They turned their attention back to Barber. He was watching them, his beady eyes glittering in the bright light of the cavern. Mulder slipped the handcuffs none too gently over Barber’s wrists, looping them under a pipe attached to one of the vats, effectively trapping him in the chamber.
“Okay, Scully, let’s go.” Mulder started walking back towards the tunnel. Scully stared after him, as did Barber. She was stunned for a moment, then realized what his plan was. She followed him towards the narrow darkness.
“Hey wait!” Barber shouted, his harsh voice grating in the small space. “You can’t just leave me here!”
Mulder didn’t even turn around. “Watch us.”
“Alright alright, what do you want to know?” he pleaded.
xXx
*Leon Barber has confessed to contaminating the hotel water supply with an unknown agent, under orders by a heretofore unknown government agency. After careful analysis, it has been discovered that the synthetic pheremone in the water has properties of technology that have never been detected in natural or current synthetic sources. Unfortunately, the vats in the underground chamber have been emptied and cleaned by unknown persons before further investigation could proceed.
Hotel guests and employees have been tested for the substance, and although they have been found to have heightened levels of natural pheremone secretion, no traces of the synthetic pheremones have been detected. This may be in concurrence with lab results that indicate that the pheremone has a very short life, effectively dying within 12 hours. Subsequent tests of the water in the area surrounding the resort have been clean of the pheremone.
No individuals have been charged, and the charges against Barber have been dropped by an higher level of security in the Justice Department. Appeals to Assistant Director Skinner and various levels of the FBI and CIA in order to locate and further investigate these allegations of covert government involvement have been denied. Mulder’s theories of the pheremone being of alien origin, or derived from alien technology can not be substantiated. The investigation is currently at a standstill.*
Scully finished typing her report into the laptop, one of the few items that survived the deluge of water over the last few days in Palm Springs. She leaned back in her chair, her fingers resting lightly on the keyboard. It was nice to be home, even after a vacation. She missed Mulder. She missed not being with him for 24 hours a day, if that was to be believed. Scully stretched slightly in her chair, then started when she heard a knock at the door.
She tightened the robe on her belt in anticipation. “Scully?” It was Mulder, of course. She had been avoiding him all week, worried about the repercussions of their time in California, and what happened between them there. She hit the autosave button on her report and got up to open the door.
“You didn’t come to the office today, Scully.”
She couldn’t meet his eyes, which she could feel boring into her with their hazel depths. “I worked from home today. I wanted to finish the report for Skinner.”
“You didn’t call. I was worried.” Mulder reached out to touch her hand. It felt like an electric shock on her skin, warming and cooling at the same time. She tried to jerk her hand away, but Mulder hung on too tightly. “Scully, we have to talk.” He tipped her chin up so their eyes met. She could feel herself melting into him.
She sighed. “Mulder, I know what happened in Palm Springs was, well, nice.”
“Nice?”
Her eyes dropped to the floor again. “Yes, it was very pleasant. But it wasn’t real, Mulder, it wasn’t us.” She looked up to take in his hurt expression. “It was the water.” She sounded disappointed. Mulder wondered if she regretted the whole thing, or just the fact that it was out of their control. Dana continued. “The pheremones in the water manipulated us, our physical and mental reactions to each other, we can’t possibly expect to-” His mouth swooped down onto hers. As he wrapped his arms around her she was overcome by flooding sensations through her body. A thousand tiny brushfires exploded in her stomach, and burned their way through her arms and legs, making them tremble with anticipation. She sagged against him, her unencumbered breasts pressing heavily into his chest, increasing his ardor. He groaned softly as her arms snaked around his warm tanned neck, pulling him closer to her heart.
Fox whispered against her lips, “What do you say we try again? Without the benefit of external hydration.” She murmured her assent, but drew away from him. He looked confused until she instructed him softly to meet her in the bedroom in five minutes. He stumbled off, humming tunelessly to himself. She smiled, realizing that his ear for music was about as stellar as his eye for fashion. She watched his retreating form, then walked over to the computer.
The screensaver flicked off as she started to type.
Although termed an “unofficial” investigation, the evidence and circumstances regarding this case have interminable importance. Greater things were discovered than can be sufficiently described in this report, and warrant further study. She smiled in the direction of the bedroom, hearing Mulder trip over something. Why didn’t he just turn on the light? The effects of the water and the pheremones that it secreted cannot be fully explained, or even demonstrated, as the chemicals are now dormant. It may be noted, however, that these chemicals did not change human nature. It encouraged it.
Scully turned off the computer, saving the report. Her entry into the other room was met with a familiar voice whining plaintively about a certain trunk at the foot of her bed. the end. finally. geez, i think i’ll just stick to shorts, these things can really get out of control… nic. —
~~~~~~~~~~
Outpatient
From: [email protected] (Nicola Simpson) Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: new short-Outpatient(XF/ER crossover)
Date: 22 Jun 1995 19:12:14 GMT
Insert standard disclaimers here. No copyright infringement intended of characters created by Chris Carter and Michael Crichton, property of FBC and NBC.
This is a short crossover of X-Files and ER. We all knew sooner or later, in their travels, that Mulder would end up in an emergency room in Chicago, right? But-as ER is such a high-paced visual show, I found it difficult to stretch this out into a real plot. I’ve also never done a crossover before, so bear with me.
Email comments and criticisms to me, at
On with the show…
Outpatient
by Nicola Simpson
Cook County General Hospital
Chicago, IL
Tuesday, November 11
2:30 pm
“Scully, I really don’t think this is necessary,” the lanky man insisted as his petite partner propelled him through the swinging doors leading to the Emergency Room.
She pursed her lips and frowned up at him. “Mulder, don’t be a baby. We have to get it checked, okay?”
“Why can’t you just do it?” Oh god, he was starting to whine.
Scully felt her patience start to drip away like an errant intravenous unit.
Sighing in exasperation, she explained yet again, “Because I don’t have all the right equipment with me here, Mulder.” Their progress down the short hall was quick, but long enough for Scully to breathe in the familiar odor of disinfectant and the slight tang of blood. She was in her element here, and her confidence leading Mulder through the small maze of equipment and trauma rooms was obvious.
They stopped at a large curved counter, covered in papers and file folders. Now Mulder was in his element, in the frenetic chaos of the Admitting station. People in white coats whirled past him, gurneys on slightly squeaky castors rolled behind him. The flourescent lights above bathed them in an uncomfortably bright haze. Mulder felt confused all of a sudden, like he had been dropped into Oz. He looked over at his partner, who was talking with a woman in a pink sweater, and realized that she was maybe more comfortable here than he had ever seen her.
The woman in the pink sweater turned to him. He almost started at the luminosity of her face, her eyes bright in the creamy glow, and her dark hair curled around her shoulders. Mulder looked at her white lucite nametag: Carol Hathaway, R.N.
She smiled at him. “So, what seems to be the problem-” she glanced down briefly at the papers that Scully had already filled out, “Mr. Mulder?”
He looked over at Scully, who was rummaging through her pockets for something, her brow furrowed in concentration, then he turned back to Hathaway and held up his left hand.
Sheepishly, he admitted, “Ferret bite.”
Her dark eyes didn’t even shift. She didn’t move a muscle, not even to raise an eyebrow at an injury that even Mulder found embarrassing. “Ferret,” she repeated matter-of-factly. He nodded.
“Aha!” Scully fairly shouted in triumph, startling both Mulder and Hathaway. She produced a long object to Hathaway.
“Your pen,” she explained, “Sorry I stole it.” She tossed her auburn head at Mulder. “He always loses ours, so I guess I’ve taken to compulsive kleptomania in defense.” Hathaway grinned as she took the proferred writing instrument and placed it behind the desk. Mulder was still staring at Scully in amused amazement while Hathaway called out to a tall man in greens approaching the counter.
“Mark?” The man looked up from the file in his hand, the flourescent lights reflecting in his wire-rimmed glasses. “Can you take this?”
“Sure.” He scrawled something quickly in the chart, then handed it to Hathaway. He crossed his arms over his chest, then let his gaze travel up and down the pair.
“You’re not police.” His eyes took in the dark suits and expressions that both of them wore. “FBI,” he stated.
Scully reached in her pocket for her ID, as did Mulder.
“I’m Agent Dana Scully, and this is Agent Fox Mulder.”
“Mark Green.” He shook hands briefly with Scully, then offered it to her partner. Mulder shook it, then held up his other hand, blood dripping slowly down his wrist.
Dr. Green shook his head. “You shouldn’t do that, you’ll wreck your shirt cuffs,” he advised, smiling. Mulder swore softly and rapidly lowered his hand.
Scully peered at the red-tinged white shirt under his suit jacket, and grinned. “Too bad, Mulder.” She shrugged. “Well, it was only silk.” Green smiled again, then turned to Hathaway.
“Exam Room Three available?”
She nodded, then suddenly dashed towards the door as a gurney and surrounding paramedics burst in. Mulder watched the frantic ballet silently in amazement until he realized that Green and Scully were halfway down the hall.
Scully looked back and rolled her eyes. “Mulder!”
“I’m coming, Scully.” He caught up with them as they swung into a small room filled with sterile metal things and a small table and chair. Glass and metal cabinets lined the walls, filled with bandages, and small packages of things. Dr. Green motioned him to a chair, which Mulder immediately sat in, much to Scully’s relief. He was much easier to deal with when he was at a lower level than her, she had realized a long time ago. When he was standing next to her, his presence was just too powerful sometimes, and it was hard for her to feel in control.
Mulder’s gaze travelled to the tray on the table holding an assortment of scalpels, lined up according to size. The bright light overhead gleamed on them, accentuating the sharp edges.
Mulder felt his sphicter contract involuntarily in the hard plastic seat beneath him, and a light sweat break out on his brow.
Scully put her hand on his shoulder and gently said, “Dr.
Green is just going to clean the wound and probably take some blood to make sure that there’s no rabies or infection, okay Mulder?”
She directed the last part of her explanation to both Mulder and Green, who nodded.
“You a doctor, Agent Scully?” Green asked lightly as he sat in the chair opposite Mulder and turned his hand in the light.
“Yes, I am,” she confirmed. “Are you going to give him a shot of penicillin too?” They entered a small discussion of different antibiotics, until they heard Mulder’s voice.
“Shot?” he croaked, interrupting.
Scully patted him on the shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t worry, Mulder. It’s a small needle.”
Green turned his attention back to the wound, which was about two inches across on the back of Mulder’s left hand. “How did you get this?”
He winced as Green dabbed antiseptic in the break of the skin.
“We were interrogating someone and their pet ferret didn’t like the questions I asked.”
Mark didn’t even look up. “Must have been some pretty soulsearching questions.”
Scully turned as someone entered the room. The man standing there-no, the boy standing there was wearing clothing almost identical to Green, but with a white coat overtop.
“Ah, Carter.” Green looked up briefly. “Want to see a ferret bite?” Scully surmised that this must be a medical student, as he leaned over the table and quickly examined Mulder’s lean hand. He smiled at Scully, who wondered to herself if she ever looked that young in med school. Probably.
Satisfied that the wound was clean, Green quickly drew some blood and asked Carter to bandage the hand. Mulder was looking more relaxed now, but Scully could still see wariness in his eyes as he took in Carter’a attempts to find the right bandage in a nearby cupboard.
Dr. Green addressed Scully briefly. “Stick around for a bit until I have the blood test back, just to make sure.”
Scully nodded, then thanked him for his help.
Half an hour later, the blood tests were back-negative, and the tinge of khaki had almost faded completely from Mulder’s face.
Tuesday, November 11
11:26 pm.
“Mulder, I just don’t believe you sometimes.”
“I don’t need a lecture, Scully. My head is pounding enough as it is, okay?”
She frowned and held the door open to the Emergency Room for the second time that day. “Anyone who decides to go for a late night run along Michigan Avenue deserves to be hit by a car.”
Mulder winced, then corrected her. “Brushed. Brushed by a car.” Scully waved a ringless hand at him as if to say “whatever”
and led him to the Admitting Desk. The woman with the long black hair wasn’t there, but a friendly African-American woman seemed eager to help them.
Scully explained, embarrassed at her partner’s antics for what seemed like the thousandth time. “Can we see Dr. Green?”
The nurse apologized, “Sorry, Dr. Green has gone home. What’s the problem?
Mulder piped in wearily. “I was brushed by a car.”
“Hit by a car, actually,” his partner corrected.
He had to give the nurse some credit, she didn’t even smile.
“Okay, I think Dr. Lewis is available?” She looked expectantly at Scully as though she expected a problem, but Scully just returned a blank nod of her sleep-mussed head.
They were ushered into an exam room, a different one than before, but outfitted about the same. Mulder perched himself up on the exam table, a white sheet of thin paper bunching and crackling under his sweats. He sighed heavily, then experimentally rotated his right wrist. He watched Scully, who was assessing the contents of the glass cabinets with a practiced, and very beautiful eye.
Damn, he felt guilty for getting her out of bed. Actually, it was the police that called her after they came on the hit-and-run scene. Oh, sorry, brush-and-run. He could just imagine her shock and fear when she awoke to a phone call from the CPD about him. His dark head dropped against his chest in embarrassment and exhaustion and he tried to ignore the throbbing pain in his left knee, ribs, head, just about everywhere, it seemed.
“Hi, I’m Dr. Lewis.” Mulder’s head snapped up, and his jaw dropped at the figure striding into the room. Lewis’s attention was on Mulder first, then she turned and nodded at Scully, who was staring at Lewis. She only saw her own auburn hair, pulled back tightly in a ponytail, but Mulder saw something more.
The slightness and strength of Lewis radiated from her starched coat, now limp from hours of use, her tired face still naturally glowing, her confident and professional attitude-it was like meeting Scully’s twin. Mulder choked, almost laughing at the possibilities.
After the second bout of poking and prodding that day, Mulder was given several bandages, an anti-inflammatory and pain-killer, and a stern lecture about running into traffic on Michigan Avenue.
Mulder protested vehemently, much to the amusement of the two women doctors. Scully was merely given instructions to take him back to the hotel and sit on him for a day. Not too hard though, Lewis warned, it might reinjure his ribs.
Scully thanked Susan Lewis and dragged her grumbling partner, now nearing the drop point thanks to the quick response to the medication he had just been given. They started towards the hall to the outer doors, but by the time they got there, Mulder had started to sing a medley from the Wizard of Oz. Scully felt her face flame, and hoped that nobody thought they were just visiting the psychiatric ward.
“Hey, Scully!” Mulder shouted against the cold wind, and pointed in a wide circle. “A basketball court!” The man dribbling the ball on the concrete fifteen feet away from them looked up, startled. Mulder started to strip off his coat, dragging Scully up to him at the same time. His voice was excited, but there was a definite undertone of exhaustion in it. “C’mon, let’s shoot some hoops.”
Now she was losing it. She tugged at him, scolding, “Mulder, put your jacket back on, it’s only 40 degrees out.” He shrugged and slid his arms back in the sleeves, just in time to shake hands with the other player on the crude court, who walked up to them.
“Doug Ross.” He smiled broadly at Scully, who returned it tiredly. She was very distracted by Mulder, whose pupils were dilating by the minute.
“Dana Scully,” she introduced herself. “That’s Fox Mulder.
Are you a doctor?”
“Pediatrician.” Ross rolled the ball between his hands to warm them and spoke to Mulder, never taking his eyes off Scully.
“First one to 21?”
Scully restrained her partner slightly. “Mulder…”
He laughed at her, almost wildly. “C’mon Dr. Scully, I wanna play with the other kids!” He batted ineffectively at her hand on his arm, like a limpet.
Ross interrupted, “You’re a doctor?” His obvious admiration for her grew by leaps and bounds, until he saw the menacing glare in Mulder’s hazel eyes.
Scully never noticed the silent territorial battle being fought. “Yes, but I don’t practice now. We’re with the FBI.”
Ross looked like he wanted to ask more, but when he saw the way that Mulder looked at her, then him, he decided to clamp up.
Mulder and Ross had played fiercely for about ten minutes, when Mulder turned to Scully and asked her if she would go get him a cup of coffee or something. She was reluctant to leave him, but realized that they hadn’t eaten or drank anything in hours.
When she returned from the vending machines armed with two cans of orange juice and some cookies, Mulder was leading by three points, and had taken the opportunity to take off his coat again.
She made the best time-out signal that she could with her hands full and stormed onto the court.
“Stop!” Ross hugged the ball to his chest and waited. Scully wheeled on Mulder, stuffing his protesting limbs back into the jacket. “For heaven’s sake, Mulder, you’re worse than a four yearold.” He stood there complacently, not helping as her fingers brushed over the gooseflesh on his arms. She peered up at him, assessing his physical state. “Okay, Mulder, time to go home.”
Mulder scuffed his sneaker along the rough pavement, then bit his lip at a sharp pain in his ankle. He started to grumble, but knew there was no point.
Scully was already ten feet away, heading towards a cab stand.
She called out behind her, “Say goodbye to your little friend, Mulder.”
Mulder grinned at Ross, who made a whipping gesture with his hand, then scurried after his partner.
Wednesday, November 12
6:29 pm
The white curtain was dragged open by Carol Hathaway. Drs.
Susan Lewis, Mark Green, Doug Ross, and John Carter stood on the other side, trying to contain smiles that threatened to crack the sides of their mouths.
But they couldn’t laugh at someone else’s misfortune, even if it was Mulder’s.
Scully stood up wearily from the chair beside the bed, and motioned them outside.
Dr. Green raised an eyebrow, finally. “Well, Dr. Scully?”
She sighed. “I think the fever is breaking, so it doesn’t look like pneumonia.” She was silent for a minute, remembering her similar vigil in Alaska several months before. She shook her limphaired head. “No, I think it’s just a really nasty cold now.”
Scully glared at Ross, who laughed.
“Hey, he’s the one who took his jacket off, not me!”
After Dr. Lewis confirmed Scully’s diagnosis, they joked for a few more minutes, then left Scully with Mulder, who was dead asleep. He didn’t even stir when Scully lay down on the bed next to him.
Only the grey walls heard her sigh, “I hate Chicago.”
The end. Personally, I love Chicago. Jeez, crossovers are hard.
Think I’ll quit while I’m behind…
—
nic
~~~~~~~~~~
Impatient
From: [email protected] (Nicola Simpson) Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: Impatient 1/1 (sequel to Palm Springs/Outpatient) Date: 28 Jul 1995 17:46:51 GMT
I mean no disrespect to Chris Carter, 10-13 Productions, and 20th Television, whose property our intrepid duo is. Really. I mean it. If they don’t believe me, they can sue me. They can take it out of my student loan, save me the trouble…
This a (kinda) sequel to Palm Springs and Outpatient (together!)… It can still be construed as a crossover with ER…
WARNING-THIS STORY DEPICTS ACTS OF A SEXUAL NATURE. Well, at least they give it a shot anyways…
Now, before you go off saying, “<Blank> wouldn’t do that,” etc., this is alt.tv.x-files.*creative*. Got it? Besides, this is just a romp. I’m having fun writing, damnit! Anybody got a problem with that? Good.
Impatient
by Nicola Simpson
“Ah, back in the Windy City once again,” Mulder sighed as he flopped back on the firm hotel mattress. He raised an eyebrow. “But what are we doing here?”
A muffled female voice came from the bathroom. “Solving a case, Mulder.”
“The case is over, Scully.” He rolled over onto his stomach and grunted softly. He toed his shoes off of his proportionally large feet currently dangling off the bed and tilted his head. “And we’re still here.”
“Hmph.” It sounded like her head was shut inside a drawer. Maybe she was inspecting the bathroom cabinets for bugs or something.
He compared the pattern of his purple tie to that of the quilted bedcover and continued casually, “I meant here more immediately.” His hazel eyes scanned the room and took in the wingchairs and an antique reproduction writing desk. Ooh ooh ooh, and a minibar. “Skinner doesn’t usually go for the Four Seasons.”
His flame-haired partner stood in the doorway of the large marble-tiled bathroom, brandishing a hairdryer. “No, but I do.” His eyebrow shot up yet again as Scully pursed her lips. “Mulder, Skinner knows we’re here, at my expense. Not the Bureau’s.”
“What about the rooms?”
“What about them?”
“We’re only using one.”
“Yes, but we still have the other one in our name.”
“Do you honestly think he’ll believe that?”
“Does he have any other proof?”
“You never know. He probably has flunkies trained on us right this second.”
“God, you’re paranoid.”
He puffed up his chest in pride. “I have good reason to be.”
She was sober for a moment, leaning against the doorframe. Mulder reached over, still lying on the bed, and grabbed her hand. He pulled her gently over to the bed, she sat down beside him. His eyes trailed up her legs from her stocking clad feet to he r straight navy skirt. He idly wondered if she was wearing garters. She felt his gaze on her and blushed. She still marvelled at the turn their relationship had taken, happily surprised that it was working so well. Skinner didn’t know yet. At least s he hoped he didn’t. He hadn’t said anything to either of them, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything.
She swung her legs up on the bed and lay down beside Mulder. Her legs didn’t dangle over the other end like his, they curled up slightly to touch his knees as she lay on her side facing him. His eyes moved downwards, noticing her firm thighs exposed by the movement. She was wearing garters. He thanked his lucky stars he was lying on his stomach. However, he wryly mused, he’d rather be lying on her stomach.
Dana interrupted his train of thought. “Well, after the last fiasco in Chicago-” Mulder flashed back to frequent visits to Cook County General Hospital, “-and our last ‘vacation’…” Ah, Palm Springs. Mulder smiled as Scully finished. “I thought maybe we’d try just taking a few days holiday here.” She glanced at him worriedly. “Any objections?”
He turned onto his side and wordlessly hauled her against him. His warm lips brushed hers gently as she kept her eyes wide open, searching his for… for something she wasn’t quite sure of. His right hand trailed over her hip and his eyes flew open to meet her penetrating gaze. Objections? He smiled softly as he reached down to slowly unfasten her garters. Her breath caught in her throat as his hands tickled the tops of her thighs.
Her small hands stilled his movement briefly. “Don’t you want to go sightseeing?” Her voice was low and husky, and he reluctantly pulled away from her and stood up. He pulled at his tie, and unbuttoned his shirt as he moved across the room. Her mouth went distinctly arid as she saw the finely toned muscles play in his lean back when he shrugged the shirt off his shoulders. He stopped near the window and opened the drapes, exposing an incredible view of Lake Michigan.
He turned back and smiled slowly, his eyes burning into hers. “We. Are. Now. Sightseeing.”
She couldn’t stand it anymore, she had to have him. She moaned softly just watching him stroll across the room back to the bed. The kingsize hotel bed that she had every intention of using to its last inch. With him.
Lying against the pillows, her head tilted at him as he approached her. Without warning, he pounced, pinning her under him. She could feel the heat radiating off him as she squirmed in his silent embrace, wanting, warning, waiting. He kissed her light ly, his tongue outlining her rosy trembling lips. Just as suddenly as he covered her, he sat back on his heels, between her legs, and reached down.
He unrolled her left stocking, his hot fingers brushing against her sensitive thighs, behind her knees, the fine bones of her ankles and feet. She gasped as he tickled her, aroused beyond her imagination by the simple touch on her legs. He moved to her right, and instead of fingering the top of the stocking, his hand moved to her core, stripping away her defences as she bit back a scream of delight.
He grinned, and continued his play with one hand while removing her remaining silk stocking with the other. Soon, her face was flushed and her breath was coming more heavily. Her eyes shut and her head twisted back and forth on the pillow like a flicke ring flame.
“Mulder…” she sighed keeningly. He leaned over her, not touching her, almost careful not to breathe on her. He wanted to fan her desire, but slowly. Gently. Irrevocably. She was too impatient, and flew up to reach him.
There was a sickening crunch as her face connected with his head. She screamed, but not in delight. Mulder went pale as her lips contorted in agony. He sat back and rubbed his forehead, wincing.
Salty tears streamed down her less-flushed cheeks at the same time as blood started to trickle from her nose. Mulder ran to the bathroom to get a towel to staunch the flow, which quickly accelerated from a steady flow to a gushing rapid.
Dana’s face went ashen as she saturated one handtowel and walked into the bathroom for another. Mulder was already on the phone calling the house doctor, much to his partner’s muffled protests.
“Bulder, I’b a doctor,” she mumbled, but he ignored her. “Besibes, it’s dot that buch blood.” Her cheeks turned grey and she dropped the bloody towel in the now red-streaked tub.
He caught her before her head hit the Italian tile.
xXx
“Agent Mulder, this is a surprise.”
“Hysterical, Jerry.” Mulder motioned towards his still-unconscious companion being wheeled in by the paramedics. “Dr. Green around?”
Jerry shook his head apologetically. “How about Dr. Lewis?” Mulder absently nodded, his eyes never leaving Scully. He could still hear the laughter in the man’s voice. “Maybe we should offer you guys a frequent visitor plan.” He turned back only to scowl at him playfully, then followed Dr. Lewis to Exam Room 4.
Susan Lewis shook his hand briefly, smiling at the memory of their last visit. This time, it was Scully who was hurt, not her lanky partner. Crazy.
Mulder motioned at Dana. “She hit her head, and her nose wouldn’t stop bleeding. She fainted, and the hotel doctor called an ambulance.”
Lewis turned to Carol Hathaway, who was suppressing a grin at the arrival of the FBI agents. “Pack it. Drain the cavities while starting a whole unit drip to replace the blood loss.” She wheeled back on Mulder. “What did she hit her head on?”
A slight blush tinged his cheeks. “Me.”
Lewis raised an eyebrow, looking very Scully-like. “What hotel?”
His foot scuffed the linoleum floor. “Four Seasons.”
The other eyebrow shot up violently as a corner of the doctor’s mouth quirked. “On a case, Agent Mulder?”
He grinned at her. “No.”
Susan smiled back at him and turned to Scully. She ordered him gently to leave them.
Twenty minutes later, Scully was awake again and, though still pale, feeling much better. Dr. Lewis easily ruled out an aneurysm, and put the excessive blood down to low clotting factors.
“I want to keep her here overnight, just to make sure that she hasn’t ruptured anything in her brain cavity,” Lewis informed Mulder. “If you want to stay…” He nodded.
Hathaway interjected, “I’ll arrange for a cot, okay?”
xXx
“Mulder, you don’t have to carry me.”
He grunted in response as he tried valiantly to fit the key in the lock. She jumped down, snatched the key and swung the door open herself.
“Scully, would you please just sit down.”
“Mulder, I’m fine.”
He wrapped his hands on her hips and pushed her towards the bed. She sat down, jostling the mattress. Her turquoise eyes gazed up at him, amused and embarrassed at his concern. Mulder stood over her, watching her carefully for signs of… whatever.
She tried to leer at him, but her head was spinning already. “We can try again, Mulder.” She reached up and let the backs of her hands trail down his chest. They flipped over and deftly plucked at his shirtbuttons until he stopped her.
“Are you sure, Scully?”
She sighed, exasperated. “Mulder, I’m fine.” She wasn’t quite sure of that, but she felt so guilty for almost ruining their vacation. “I want-”
His fingers covered her mouth gently, cutting her off. “We’ll be careful, okay?” Her only response was a muffled sigh and smile against his index finger. It tickled the delicate skin around the edge of her bottom lip, and her pink tongue poked between his fingers. He bent down and replaced them with his mouth, drowning her in erotic titillation. She pulled him back on the bed and rolled on top of him, opening the last button on his chambray shirt still rumpled from him sleeping in it the previous night.
She winced at a sudden stabbing pain in her sinuses as she leaned over him. She masked her discomfort quickly as she flicked his nipples with her tongue, and trailed across his abdomen. Goosebumps raised on his skin, cooling in the evaporation of her e xplorations. He groaned as she undid his belt buckle, and shifted uncomfortably as he heard the rasping buzz of the zipper permeate his senses. She smiled in her new-found power and sat up quickly to pull the jeans off his lean muscled legs.
Suddenly, everything went black, and she toppled backwards, falling off the bed. Mulder sat up in fuzzy shock, reaching for her before she hit the floor. She hit the desk first. He couldn’t help stifling a giggle at the sight of her half-naked, sprawl ed on the floor, her head at a strange angle against the mahogany legs. Until he noticed that she was unconscious.
His heart sunk. Oh no, not again.
xXx
“What the hell are you doing, Hathaway?” Mulder glared at her as Dana was wheeled once again into a trauma room.
“Looking for the revolving door,” she replied cheekily.
“Ha ha.”
“Lucky you, Dr. Green is in today.” She pointed down the hall.
“Great.”
In Trauma Room Four, Dr. Green was trying to resuscitate Scully, and an IV had already been started. He turned to Mulder as he came in the swinging doors.
“What happened, Agent Mulder?”
“She fell.”
“Where? Off what? Onto what?”
“The Four Seasons. The bed. Against a desk.” People in green and pink scrubs whirled around them, doing their jobs.
Mark Green chuckled inwardly. “You know, Mulder, I don’t think that was the kind of bedrest Dr. Lewis had in mind when she let Dr. Scully go this morning.”
Mulder ignored him. “Will she be okay?”
“Yeah, I think so. Probably a concussion.” Mulder sighed, inexpressibly relieved for the second time in 24 hours. Green continued, dashing Mulder’s hopes slightly. “We’ll have to keep her here again to make sure that’s all it is though.”
Carol piped in from across the room. “I’ll see if I can get your old room, Mr. Mulder.”
He smiled in spite of himself. “Maybe we should just check in here next time we’re in town, instead of bothering with a hotel.”
Dr. Green laughed, then prodded Mulder out the swinging doors and turned his attentions back to the tiny woman lying on the gurney.
xXx
Scully was sleeping naturally in a familiar narrow bed. Mulder sat in a chair beside it, his dark tousled head resting on the blanket beside her hip. His arm reached up to hold her hand in his, his thumb traced over the delicate veins in her wrist.
“You know, Scully, next time, let’s just hit each other on the head with baseball clubs for our vacation. It would be so much easier.” Her small dry palm squeezed his knuckles together imperceptibly, and he fell asleep.
The End
[author’s note: um, the above “accidents” have both happened to me in bed with my boyfriend in the last year. I wasn’t hospitalized, but we were laughing so hard it was hard to perform afterwards…] nic.
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