Title: Sleeptalking (1 of 1) Author: catriona wimsey Archive: yes, a note is nice if you're a smaller archive. Classification: S, heavy UST. Rating: PG-13 Spoilers: vague, vague, vague OS. 6E:AF Summary: Steamy weather leads to our fav agents sharing a bed and some late night conversation. Disclaimer: thanks CC, but why don't you just cut the Darth Vader crap and save us the trouble! Thanks to Maeve for the beta. Dedicated to: the MSWorks Thesaurus I swap chocolate eclairs for feedback! catriona_wimsey@excite.com x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x- Sleeptalking (1 of 1) Rural Alabama Empty Highway July 11 2000 8.48 PM "Doesn't this thing go any higher?" Leaning over from the passenger side Scully adjusted the Taurus' air conditioning controls, "It's already on full." "Then why is it acting like a furnace instead of doing it's job?" growled Mulder, reaching up to undo several more shirt buttons from around his neck. "It's like nine o'clock for christsakes; a hundred degrees outside and about twice that in here." "I'm not enjoying this anymore then you," Scully said, her voice hardening at his sharp tone. "I'm stuck here as well and it wasn't even my idea to waste our time by coming." "I had every reason to assume it was a legit case!" he snapped back and then sighed, "I'm sorry, let's just forget it. We're both tired and hot." "Your right," she began sincerely. "A man proclaiming that aliens made him murder his mechanic does I suppose, qualify as an X-File. It's just a shame he decided he was also possessed by Satan, Pikachu, Jesus and the Blair Witch," Scully finished,unable to hide her grin. "It was as stretch to class it as an X-File, he's not the first person who's ever wanted to kill their mechanic. Though, I doubt too many would bother tying him up to do it by carbon monoxide poisoning. Not with those big spanners so handy." He glanced from the road to Scully's face only to be met through the darkness of the car's interior by a raised eyebrow and a Mona Lisa smile. "Scully?" "Yeah." "What the hell is a Pikachu?" "A Pokemon." "Uh huh," he replied, then, "Scully what the hell is-" "Pokemon," she cut him off, "are Japanese characters. They fight each other, I think you're supposed to train them. As well as the books, shirts and assorted paraphernalia kids can get, they're also trading cards, Nintendo video games and a movie, not to mention one of the biggest money making toy empires there ever was. Pikachu is the little yellow one, with the rosy cheeks." "Scully can I ask you a personal question?" Mulder inquired, looking over at her with a grin. "Last Christmas with my family," she anticipated him. "You know everything there is to know about Pokemon by spending just ten minutes with my nephew." "Right, the one that's seen Babe ten thousand times." "God Mulder," she replied with feigned disgust, "That's SO 1995." "Shut up, Scully." x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x- Rural Alabama Nelson: Pop. 421 Tally-Ho Motel 10:02 PM Glancing over at her partner, Scully fit her key into the motel room's door. "Good night, Mulder," she said. "Yeah, g'night," he grunted, pushing heavily on his adjacent door, before stumbling inside. Dropping her carry-on bag and jacket on the foot of the bed, Scully made a beeline for the room's air conditioner, switching it on full blast. Turning around, even the initial warm air that spewed forth from the A/C unit cooled her back as she slipped off her heels, untucked her blouse and surveyed the room. A grimace quickly formed on her face as she took in the drab, worn and slightly stained dirty yellow swirl patterned carpet. The said carpet -- of which she had the sneaking suspicion was once off-white -- clashed almost criminally with hideous and gaily colored flowered bedspread. Moving over, she sat on the edge of the bed and pulled the clock/radio and its heavy layer of dust from the bedside table onto her lap. Turning the tuning knob and finding nothing but country music and the occasional late night, redneck talk-back, she forgoed the radio and decided that waking to shrill electronic beeping would be infinitely less irritating. Setting it for six AM she stood and stripped off her nylons. The bathroom showed no improvement in taste or facilities than the room itself. Ancient, peeled, lime green linoleum led to nothing more than a small vanity unit, a shower stall and a toilet, with a strip of paper boldly proclaiming that it had been 'Hygienically Cleaned for Your Protection.' Yeah, right. Holding no great hopes for a bathtub, Scully was only mildly disappointed. Rooms with TVs bolted to the furniture and hourly rates rarely did. Turning the shower's cold water on full blast and not bothering about the hot water, Scully grabbed her toiletries and quickly began to shed her blouse from her sweat-soaked back. Freshly showered, she wrapped a towel around her slight form and she slid open the bathroom door and was hit not by a stream of cool air, but rather a waft of stifling heat. Quickly slipping into boxers and an oversized T-shirt, she walked over to inspect the A/C unit. Placing her hand to the vent, Scully felt a flow of warm air. Switching the machine off, on and off again with no improvement, she picked up the room's phone and dialed 9 for 'reception.' It picked up on the ninth ring. "Yep?" "Uh, hello. This is Special Agent Dana Scully, I seem to be having a problem with my air conditioner." "Uh huh." "It's only blowing hot air." "Uh huhhh," the voice drawled once more. Waiting for the man who one could only assume was the manager of this roach trap to continue, but with no avail, Scully elaborated. "It's broken." "Oh." Whether due to the heat or from utter annoyance, Scully's patience was wearing thin. "Do you think you might fix it?" she snapped. "What room are y'all in?" "Seven." "Seven," repeated the manager thinking it over. "The AC ain't broke in that one, it just needs more coolant, or somethin'." "Well, can you come put some more coolant in it then?" "When?" "Now." "What, now? No way, Miss I ain't got any. Been meanin' to go into Selma and pick some up." "Fine. Can I have another room with and AC that works?" "Yer can have another room, don't know if they'll work any better though. Matta a fact, I know room eight's works." "I'll have that room then," Scully sighed with relief. "Nuh, can't." "Why not?!" "'Cause that tall fella's in it." x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x- 10:34 PM Hanging up, Scully went to the windows intending to throw them all wide open, only to find that they were bolted shut. Stripping the bedspread and blanket from the mattress, she lay down finding the bed blessedly cool. Thirty seconds later Scully stood outside, fist poised ready to knock on Mulder's door. Hesitating she took a glance down at her pajamas. Light blue cotton boxers and a heather gray T-shirt. One of Mulder's heather grey T-shirts, she realized and inwardly groaned. Since the first day of the year, hell, the first few seconds of the year, things had been decidedly different between them. The rift and distance that had always separated them, especially in the previous year, was being slowly but skilfully sewn back together. They were closer and stronger then ever before. She stood barefoot at Mulder's door at 10:30 at night, wearing his clothes and with the full intention of spending the night in his room. Dammit all to hell, she thought knocking heavily, as long as he has A/C he can think what he likes. "Just me," she called. "It's open." Slipping through the doorway Scully leaned back against it, pushing the heavy weight of the door shut. Eyes closed, she felt the frosty air brush over her skin, cooling every inch of her body and sinking into her very being. She let out a long, relaxed sigh, she murmured, "Beautiful." "No shit," thought Mulder, taking in her bare feet and sculpted calves before glancing up to her ethereal smile from his seat on the bed. Seconds past and Scully remained still, eyes closed and standing slumped against the door. Swallowing, he asked, "You okay there, Scully?" Peeling herself from the door she moved across the room and stood arms parallel with her body and her back to the A/C unit. As she took in deep breaths of cool air, Mulder really couldn't but help notice the way her breasts moved freely with each rise and fall of her chest against what he was damn sure was one of his T-shirts. He also couldn't help but feel a minor movement of his own taking place under an altogether different article of clothing. Opening her eyes, Scully looked across at Mulder sitting with his ankles crossed and leaning against the headboard of the bed. She traced her gaze past his long, lean swimmers legs that were drawn straight out in front of him and up over the seemingly ever present bulge in his black boxers. Continuing her journey above his flat stomach to his strong angular face, Scully was unable to meet his own wandering eyes. Tearing his gaze from her breasts he looked up only to see her eyes slam shut. Before remorse, guilt and a brutal mantra of 'you're a worthless fuck' could overcome him, Scully spoke skirting the issue. "I'm fine," she replied at last. Sensing his sullen frown, she opened both her clear blue eyes, which he could barely bring himself to meet. "I really _am_ fine, now. My air conditioner is about as old as Ben Franklin and is what one can only expect from a place like this." "What's that?" "A piece of shit. I'm spending the night in here." Mulder grinned at her choice of words but suddenly frowned as realization struck him and he stood up pulling on a white undershirt. "I'll use your room then," he sighed without a fight, in thanks of her not calling him out of line before smacking him one across the face moments earlier. "You're kidding?" she responded, eyebrows climbing. "Forget the A/C, the windows don't even open. You can go right ahead and spend the night sweating like a pig Mulder, or you can stay in here with me and this fabulous piece of modern technology," she said, lightly slapping her hand against the flat top of the air conditioner. He let his gaze drift slowly across the room before looking over at her. "But there's no couch," he said, in all seriousness. She scanned the room before returning to his perplexed hazel eyes. "Your right," she replied stonily. "I guess you'll have to sleep on the floor." Glancing down to the sinfully ugly carpet and his home for the night, he sighed and nodded resignedly. "Mulder," Scully started, unable to hide her grin. "I was only joking, we'll share the bed. I don't bite. If you start snoring though, all bets are off." "And what if I say no," asked a relieved Mulder, giving her a lopsided smile, "seeing how this is actually my bed and everything?" "Yeah, Fox Mulder not letting a woman invite herself to sleep in the same bed with him. Sure, that's believable," she retorted, with a full-fledged grin. "Should hell freeze over and your answer be the negative then you can kiss the floor goodbye, 'cause you'll be sleeping in the car." "Well, I suppose I've got no choice then." "None at all." x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x- 12.28 AM A loss of sound and a shift in the mattress woke Scully from her light slumber. "Mulder?" she asked sleepily, turning over to face him and the righthand side of the bed. "Yeah," he replied in a soft voice, close and comforting though she could not see him through the darkness. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you." "No, that's okay. I was just dozing," Scully responded, coming back to herself fully. "What time is it?" "Almost twelve thirty." Aside from the blessed continual hum of the A/C, the room was quiet and she deduced that Mulder turning the TV off and shifting around must have woke her. Eyes now adjusted to the low light, Scully sat up slightly on her elbows and could see past the foot of the bed to the blank face of the television. Looking across at her partner, she could just make out his profile through the darkness as he lay on his back. "You know," she started, "we can sleep with the TV on Mulder, if you like. I know you usually do and I really wouldn't mind." "It's not a night light, Scully," he replied with some distaste. "I don't need it to sleep." "I know. I just though it might be comforting for you." "Comforting?" "At home in my apartment Mulder," she began, laying back down. "Some nights the only way I can get to sleep is if I tune the radio in my bedroom to a classical station or one of those easy listening ones. I can only assume that it's the same with you and your TV. We lead stressful and dangerous lives, and when we're trying to forget about all that and drift off to sleep, some noise, any noise gives comfort. An illusion of safety." "Kills the solitude." "Exactly. So turn it back on." "I don't need to, you're here. I don't feel lonely but I do feel safe." "Me too." In the darkness, whether it be through fate, destiny or pure chance, Scully's right hand found his left. A long moment passed, and without letting go of her partner's hand, she began to laugh. "What?" Mulder demanded, rolling onto his side to face her. "No, nothing really," Scully replied, "I just can't believe you really thought I was going to make you sleep on that God awful carpet." "You can be a cruel woman, Scully." "You bet I can, and as your doctor I would have made sure you were up to date on both Hepatitis A and B boosters before letting you lay down there. And I know how much you would have _loved_ that," she retorted, sensing his smile through the darkness. "The car and a visit to a chiropractor would have been preferable." "Yeah, well, it would have served you right for choosing this dump." "What can I say, I have good taste." "Don't I know it," she chuckled, rolling her eyes. "Just once Mulder, can we please splurge and get some rooms where there's nice drapes, mints on the pillows and no hourly rates?" "We did, remember in Houston. The NASA case. There were even bellhops." "That was seven years ago!" "Geeze Scully. Skinner's always on my back about expenses, taxpayer's dollar and everything. You know we've gotta squeeze every penny." "Only because of your continual cell phone disappearing act," she finished with a yawn. "Sorry, I'm keeping you up. Go to sleep, Scully." "Okay, 'night Mulder. Try to get some sleep yourself, huh?" "I'll try." x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x- 1:27 AM "Mulder?" "....what, Sully?" he slurred. "Forget it, sleep," Scully replied softly. Seconds before slipping back into the land of nod, a sensation of something soft and warm pressed up to his chest and stomach hit him, knocking him fully awake. Opening his eyes, Mulder found himself lying on his side, with Scully's head tucked under his chin and her own side fitted snug up against his body. Closing his eyes briefly, Mulder reopened them not to the disappointment of laying on his apartment's cold leather couch, left only to grasp the fleeing images of a dream, but to the reality of Scully. A very real, very warm Scully, laying on her back tucked up against him and his own right had splayed out upon her stomach. Both dread and horror fought to engulf Mulder as he quickly realized the extreme discomfort she must have felt in order to wake him. Yet when he lifted his hand away, her own shot up and covered his, returning them to her belly. Stunned but overjoyed, Mulder had to wait momentarily for the words to come. "What were you going to say, Scully?" he managed finally. "Doesn't matter, I thought you'd be awake." "I decided to take your advice and get some shut eye." "First time for everything." "What me sleeping or doing what you told me to do?" Mulder asked, a smile forming on his face. "Both. Really, go back to sleep." "Only if you tell me what you were going to say," he persisted. "Nothing much. I've just been laying here, thinking. That's all." "'bout what?" Scully hesitated and then softly replied, "A lot of things." "Wanna share?" "Yeah, I think I finally do," she said, squeezing his hand that rested below her own, still atop her stomach. "Mulder, I realise I owe you a proper apology. For not trusting you or your judgement and for Diana." "Oh, Scully-" "Mulder she was your friend and I'm sorry that I didn't trust you. You were right and those long months I spent hating her for being on the other side and hating you for believing in her, were wasted effort. You did know her Mulder and you deserved far more credit then I gave you. She saved your life." "No, I've already told you Scully, you did. She let them butcher me. She was dirty, but I knew she did have a kind heart however hidden it had become, and in my experience that doesn't often change. The respect I hold for you should have made me listen and hear out what you had to say. But I guess I just didn't want to know that yet another person had betrayed me. I'm the world's biggest hypocrite," he said with a self-depreciating shake of the head. "I say 'Trust No One' but am always ready to believe the best of people at the drop of a hat. You don't have anything to apologise for Scully, you were doing what you do best, gathering evidence, proof of her allegiance to the project." "And you were sticking with your instincts and playing you hunches which have an irritating way of being right more often then not. We were each working our end of the partnership." "Yep." "Let's keep doing what we're doing Mulder, but will you promise me something?" "Anything," he replied, snaking his left arm around her shoulder's, pulling her closer to him. "Promise me that we'll always meet up in the middle." "I promise, Scully. Always." "Thank you," she replied, smiling into his chest. "I'm going back to sleep now, you too okay?" "Okay, Scully. 'Night," a long moment passed before Mulder spoke again. "Hey Scully?" "Mmmm...." "How about on our next case we go to a better motel, no scratch that a Bed and Breakfast Inn if we're in a small town or a really nice hotel if were in a big city." "Great." "It will be great. Bellhops, a bar downstairs and even mints on the pillows just for you." "I can't wait," she replied, sleepily. "Me neither. It'll be expensive, but to cut costs and keep Skinner happy, we'll only get one room. How 'bout it Scully?" "_Good_ Night, Mulder." And they slept. =End Notes: Unfortunately the 'tally-ho' motel did once exist, although not in Alabama, and I had the unpleasant experience of experiencing it. Fortunately though, a nice new block of flats was built up upon the cess-pool that was the Tally-Ho. I swap chocolate eclairs for feedback! Catriona_Wimsey@excite.com Flamers, I'm 16 and obnoxious as hell. don't bother.