Date: Wed, 10 Nov 1999 19:50:27 -0400 Subject: fanfic submission Source: direct Title: Angels Author: Leigh Neville Genre: MSR Rating: umm, say NC-13, as there is a little mention of sexual activity. Spoilers: None that I can think of, but I guess it could be useful for you to know who Diana Fowley is and you gotta know your Sheryl Crow! Summary: Mulder and Scully discuss who the angel is on the kitchen floor in "A Change" by Sheryl Crow. Playful conversation on the way to a motel. Disclaimer: I own a tv and some music. I do not own characters who appear on the tv or the music I paid for. Therefore, I gotta tell you guys that Mulder and Scully belong to Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen Productions and the Fox Network. Sheryl Crow is her own woman, but her words do belong to someone in the hierarchy of the music industry. I am borrowing them all, and wish no harm upon them. They are wonderful, and I hope I don't ruin them for anyone who reads this. Dedication: Do tutto a tu, mio angelo. xXx "What ya listening to?" Mulder asked his partner as she put in her earplugs. They were in the car on their way to yet another of Mulder's cases when Scully had decided to relax with a bit of music. "Sheryl Crow" she replied as she pressed the play button on her walkman. "You can put it on the main stereo if you like," Mulder offered. Scully looked a bit shocked at the offer. "You sure?" she asked. "I don't want to annoy you with my musical tastes." "Go on. I annoy you enough!" he reflected. "Besides, I like Sheryl Crow." Scully's eyes twinkled with amusement. "Since when have you listened to music, Mulder?" "Since I got a little bored of the late night porn movies. Sometimes I can't bear to watch another second and I have to turn over to VH1." "Don't blame you." She took out her earplugs and ejected the cassette from the personal stereo. After rewinding it back to the beginning in the car stereo, she pressed play. "Maybe Angels" started to filter into the car as the two agents settled down and listened to the words. Then, as the song broke into it's first chorus Scully burst in to a fit of giggles. "What?" Mulder asked with a puzzled look. After a struggle with her giggles, Scully turned to him and said, "This is so you Mulder! I can't believe it! Do you know Sheryl Crow or something, because it sounds to me like she wrote this song all about you. I mean, 'I swear they're out there, I swear'?! I'd never thought about it before, but this is 100% you." "C'mon Scully, I'm not the only one who believes in the possibility that aliens exist. It is not implausible that this song might be about any number of people known to Sheryl, or even Sheryl herself." He paused, "besides, she says 'angels' not 'aliens'. The two are very different things and I don't believe in angels." "Oh shut up Mulder! You'll miss the second verse! That is even better! Listen!" *Down here I feel like an alien of nowhere My bags all packed in case they ever come for me Got a hundred stories and tabloid lies Got witnesses to what the government denies So I'm heading down to Roswell to wait and see.* "OK, OK, so I met her once but I swear, Scully, it was just a one night thing - it meant *nothing* to me. She got so hooked on me that she wrote this," Mulder joked, glancing across at Scully with a big grin. Scully rolled her eyes at his bad joke and looked out the side window as the song faded out. "Now *this* is a real song," Mulder announced as "A Change" began. "So I got a song written about me, but that could be about anyone. You top it, coz your name is actually mentioned in this song!" She shot a look across at him to shut him up. She could see where this was heading and wanted to change the direction of conversation ASAP. "You and I both know that that line is with reference to that Scully character on the cop show on NBC - it has absolutely nothing to do with me." "Oh but Scully, you can't deny it, you must think about yourself when you hear 'Scully and angel on the kitchen floor'" he threw back at her, taking up the challenge and relishing in Scully's discomfort. "No, Mulder, I don't think about me. I think about the guy on the tv show. Are you suggesting that you think about *me* when you hear that line?" Mulder shifted uncomfortably in the driver's seat, keeping his eyes fixed on the car in front. "Well?" Scully was taking no prisoners. "Umm, well yeah," Mulder started uneasily. "Say 'Scully' to me and I think 'Dana Scully.' I work with you every day; other than your family, you're the only Scully I've ever met, and certainly the most important one." The answer was acceptable to Scully, but the whole subject of Mulder picturing her on the kitchen floor with some guy was quite amusing to her and she wanted to probe the matter further. Anyhow, she loved to see him squirm under her questioning. "So, Mulder, you actually form an image in your head of me with some guy on my kitchen floor?" she mused with an enquiring look, trying to hold back a huge grin. He quickly looked across at her, trying to ascertain her seriousness and measuring up how much joking she was prepared to take. It was safe, he decided. "Of course! Your flushed little cheeks, your heavy uneven breathing, your position..." "My body?" "No, I can't see that, the bloke's on top of you," he grinned. "Besides, I wouldn't do that to you." "Wouldn't you?" she raised an eyebrow in his direction, the twinkle still in her eye. "Are you suggesting that you want me to, Agent Scully?" he smiled, but kept his gaze upon the road ahead. "No, I don't," and then secretly added to herself I am such a liar! "But Mulder, I'm surprised: I thought you knew me quite well, surely you know I'm not that kinda girl?" "Really? I had you down for a hot and passionate woman underneath that exterior that you put up." He had her number on that one. That is probably true she thought, but... "I don't know Mulder. Maybe I am, but not with just any old guy." Mulder noted that the tone had gone from playful to thoughtful. "Well maybe not just 'any old guy' as you put it. An 'angel' was what Sheryl sang and, to me, that suggests someone important. I know you wouldn't have sex haphazardly; the guy's gotta mean something, right?" "Yeah, but I just can't picture a guy with me like that," she paused as she thought a bit more. "I guess that's why I don't relate myself to that particular line of the song. I don't have an 'angel.' I can't picture him." "Well maybe it'd help to describe your ideal guy," Mulder offered; his tone hinting playfulness again. Scully looked across at him, her seriousness of a few moments ago had disappeared. She bit her lip before turning to look at the road again. "My ideal man?! hmmm..." she jokily said, feigning thoughtfulness. "Tall." "Tall? How tall?" Mulder inquired, enjoying the way the description had started. "Oh, about six foot, maybe a bit bigger than that," she grinned, recognising that he'd noticed the connection and that he was delighted with the conversation so far. "Brown hair. Well built. Nice eyes." "Color?" "Dunno, the type that change from hazel to green to blue depending on the colours around him. But deep eyes. Eyes you can look at and see his emotions. Expressive eyes that have the ability to tell me 'I love you' with only a gaze." He glanced across at her and their eyes met. Hers were still playful, yet honest whilst his showed absolute awe and appreciation for the woman in front of him. They looked back at the traffic around them and sat in a peaceful silence for the duration of the tape's playing. "So," Scully pulled Mulder from out of his private reverie as the tape flipped sides and restarted, "who would be your ideal woman?" You've had me open up, now I want revenge she thought. "A leggy blonde, or do you prefer brunettes? That's your type isn't it; tall brunette? That's Diana Fowley, yeah? You had a thing with her, didn't you? So is she your type, Mulder?" Though she was trying to act like she was joking, Mulder couldn't help but notice the serious and hurt tone in her voice. "You sound jealous, Agent Scully," he kept the light tone, so as not to upset her further. He knew this subject hit a nerve; Scully would not normally get so bitchy. He glanced across at her, and his heart felt like it had been torn in two when he saw her face. Her azure eyes, glazed with unshed tears, burned with pain; her smile which could bring sunshine into his darkest night had been replaced with down-turned, quivering lips, slightly parted. She looked straight ahead. She didn't reply. Mulder turned back to drive and decided to carry on. "No, Agent Fowley is not my type. Maybe I thought that she was once, but that was only because I hadn't found my ideal woman yet. She came later." "So she's not a brunette? And she's not tall?" Mulder realised that Scully was looking right at him, searching him with her big blue questioning eyes, lit with expectation of his reply. She had a real look of insecurity and anxiety - like a child seeking reassurance. "No. My ideal woman is most definitely not tall or brown-haired." "What color is her hair?" Mulder's face changed back to the one of complete awe again, as he mentally pictured the woman he loved in front of him. "She has hair the color of leaves in the fall. She has hair the color of the flames in my heart which burn only for her." He paused as he searched for more words, while his partner sat captivated by his words. "Her eyes are the most beautiful shade of blue. They are more beautiful than sapphire. I get lost in her eyes. Lost like they are the gateway to her soul, and once you have been there, you never want to leave. They are stunning. They can express her emotions while the rest of her acts like she feels nothing. But she feels everything. She is the most loving person I've ever met." "Is she beautiful?" "Oh Scully, every part of her is beautiful. Her face, her body, her mind, her thoughts, her actions, her heart and her soul: they are all the most beautiful things I have ever seen. I never thought it possible for such beauty to exist until she walked into my life." "Really?" "Yeah. Really." He fixed her with a look of truth. She looked down and smiled, closing her eyes. There was a silence between them, all except for the melody and slow words of "Home." The song fitted perfectly with the sudden reflective moods which had descended upon the car. *I'd like to see the Riviera and slow-dance underneath the stars; I'd like to watch the sun come up in a stranger's arms, but this is home* "This is home," Scully repeated quietly, reflecting upon it's meaning for her. "This is my home; here with you." "Don't you want 'to watch the sun come up in a stranger's arms,' Scully?" he wondered aloud. "No. Not if I can wake up and spend my day with you, chasing UFOs and mutants and whatever," she smiled. "As I said, this is home. And, besides, maybe one day I'll get the chance to watch the sun come up in your arms - that'll mean more to me than just 'any old guy'." Quiet fell upon the car once more, and there it stayed for the rest of the journey. Finally Mulder pulled into the motel car park and turned off the engine. Mulder looked across at Scully who was in a gentle slumber next to him. He stretched across and stroked her cheek. "Hey, princess, wake up. We're here," he whispered into her ear. The Sleeping Beauty didn't stir though, so Mulder decided to go, collect the keys and take their bags to their rooms. He returned to the car where he opened the passenger door. He carefully eased Scully out of the car and into his arms. With a bit of a struggle, he managed to close the door and lock up the car without dropping his partner or disturbing her. God knows how I managed that thought Mulder as he carried Scully to her room. Once there, he gently lay Scully down upon her bed. Going through her travel bag, he found her pyjamas and turned back to his partner. "Now, you can either make this very easy for us, or you can make it incredibly difficult instead," Mulder told Scully's sleeping form. Ever so mindfully, he changed Scully into her pyjamas, avoiding looking too long at her beautiful, soft and curvy body. Once done, he pulled the bedcovers over her and hung up her clothes. Returning to her bedside, he leant down and kissed her lightly on the forehead. "Sweet dreams" he whispered as he brushed a stray bit of hair from off her face. Turning to leave, he heard Scully move slightly in the bed behind him. Pausing for a moment he waited to check she was asleep, before creeping to the door. "Mulder," a tired, sleep-filled voice called to him from the darkness, just as he was about to leave. "Yes." "Y'know the 'Me and angel on the kitchen floor' thing?" "Yes." "You're the angel." The End You like? I hope so. No feedback address unless, of course, you want me to get the sack when my boss discovers just what exactly I use company computers for!!! I'll try and set one up for you, but for now, I'll just have to work out what you think by picking up on your positive or negative vibes! As ever, I'm not sure about how good this is, and worry like hell as to whether it's a good story and is Scully right? and have I managed to really put across just how beautiful she (GA) is? yadda, yadda, yadda... I wish I could get some feedback so I could get that little bit of reassurance *I* need. But, if you did like it, well, thanx very much for finding the time to read and appreciate my work. Leigh.