From: Chloe Subject: X-Files Fanfic Submission Date sent: Thu, 2 Apr 1998 23:53:17 -0600 Title - Dana Scully's Guide To Relaxation(1/1) Author - Chloe Wildner E-Mail - agentchloe@geocities.com Rating - PG Category - S Spoilers - None Keywords - Mulder/Scully UST Summary - Scully puts off work to relax in the form of a bath complete with candles and rose petals. Meanwhile, Mulder gets anxious and pays Scully a visit to see if she's alright..... Standard Disclaimer: X-Files, Mulder, Scully, etc.. all belong to Fox and TenThirteen Productions, they are not mine. This is pure fiction and posted for fun, not profit. ************************************************ Scully slammed the door closed behind her and rushed into her apartment, forgetting to lock the door. It had been a tough couple of days. She threw her trench coat onto the couch and was about to follow it with her suit jacket when the phone rang. "Hello?" "Scully? It's me." "Hey, Mulder, what's up?" Mulder switched his phone to the other ear. Mostly he'd called just to make sure she'd made it home okay. "I'm going to go over these files one more time. Do you think you could read over the coroners' reports again?" "Yeah, sure. I'll see you tomorrow at eight." She disconnected the call. "Sure I'll read them again - after a bath." The jacket finally found it's way off her back and now she walked it to her bed. There she slipped off one high-heeled shoe and then the other. God did her feet hurt. She crossed the room - the carpet felt so good under her toes - and turned on the radio to the classical station. She was going to relax tonight if it killed her. She took her hands and slid them down her hips and legs, rolling off her stockings. Then she walked to the bathroom and turned on the water. A smile slid onto her face. "Mmm...bubble bath." She poured a cupful of the shimmering liquid into the stream of water running out of the faucet and watched it travel down and erupt into a sea of bubbles on the surface of the water. A giggle passed her usually serious lips, and she shook out a splash of the bubble bath directly from the bottle. The giggle was followed by a full out laugh. What had come over her? She marched out of the bathroom. Scully did not care why she felt like this; she just knew that she did. And those coroners' reports and the murderer running loose could just wait until she finished her bath. The sick humor of the statement caused a small smile to slide its way back onto her face. She cranked up the classical music and allowed her fingers to begin traveling down the center of her blouse and undo the buttons one by one. She slipped the silky white fabric off her shoulders and into her hands. Scully stared down at the bundle of clothing. She scrunched up her face for a minute; but then the muscles smoothed out into a sly grin, and she tossed the blouse over her shoulder and onto the floor. A giggle escaped again, and she bit her lip. Insane, she had definitely gone insane, but this was so much fun. Next, her bra - oh, but wait. Wine. If she was going to act drunk, she might as well enlist a little help. So she searched her kitchen topless - no luck. The only alcohol was a half-full bottle of cheap beer. Forget it, that wasn't romantic or sexy. There had to be something. She turned her lips inward in thought. Then it hit her. She took out a wine glass and poured in some fruit punch. She had a good imagination. She clicked the class against an empty one in the cupboard and took a sip. Scully smiled and strolled into the bathroom - and just in time too. She quickly placed the glass on the edge of the sink and turned off the water in the tub. Any longer and the tub would have overflowed when she got in. A grin crossed her face, "Crisis averted." She took a swig from the glass and lay it down again. The smile slid from her face. Mood, mood. It wasn't right. It needed.... The smile threatened her face again as an idea hit her, but she pushed it down, tossed her head in the air, and slinked out of the room. She grabbed two candles off a table, turned around, and entered the bathroom again. She placed a candle on the floor at either end of the tub and lit them slowly and methodically. She tossed the matches onto the floor of the bathroom and undid her shirt. It slid down her legs to the floor. She lifted one leg out of the skirt and then bend up the other leg - lifting the skirt up with her toe. She grabbed it with her fingers and tossed it out towards the living room. Scully then took a breast in each hand and slid her fingers forward to undo the clasp of her bra. Once free, the fabric quickly fell back from her body, and she shook her shoulders a little until it fell to the ground. One last idea hit her, and she slipped into the living room clad only in her underwear. She grabbed the roses that she had bought for herself only yesterday - the flower vender would never know the truth - and began to head back to the bathroom. But she stopped. A very dangerous smile crossed Scully's face. She grabbed a rose petal and tossed it onto the carpet. She took one step with her right foot and touched her left toe to the ground next to her right foot. Then she grabbed another rose petal with her other hand and flicked it onto the floor. She continued like this, strolling across the living room and into the bathroom like a grown-up, nude, flower-girl. The remaining petals she spread liberally on top of the bath water. Only one article of clothing remained - a red, lacy, thong. She had bought the pair on a whim months ago, but had never gotten up the nerve to wear them until today. It had been her little secret all day long. "What would Mulder have done if he'd known?" A chill pulsed down Scully's naked spine. She tossed the thong onto the tile and flicked off the lights. The room looked very romantic bathed only in candlelight, and Scully found it much easier to act sultry. She slipped into the warm water and splashed bubbles around her. She smiled as she caught the music that was still streaming in loudly from the speakers in her bedroom - Vivaldi. She slid farther into the tub and closed her eyes. A picture of Mulder in a double-breasted suit popped into her head, and her eyes flew open. "No. Stop it, Dana." She closed her eyes again. A picture of Mulder without a double-breasted suit popped into her head. She groaned. Why was it always Mulder? That was hopeless; there must be someone else. That guy standing on the street while they were questioning Mrs. Johnston looked pretty handsome......But then Mulder had looked even better. "Oh, God, Mulder!" Scully slid down until the water swallowed her head. ****************************************** Mulder reached Scully's door and stopped. He hadn't stopped to think since he read that sentence in his profile of the killer: "Victims are powerful women, often redheads." He'd panicked immediately - he couldn't think of anything more horrible then Scully being murdered. But now he was having second thoughts. He hadn't even called her again to see if she was still okay. He could be overreacting. But then it wasn't as if this wouldn't be unprecedented. Plus, it was kind of weird for someone to be blasting classical music. Mulder tried the door, and it swung right open. All his fear rose back into his throat again. He pulled his gun out and entered her apartment FBI-style. The state of her apartment did nothing to quell his fears. It was pitch dark and utterly quiet except for the loud classical music. His hand reached up for a light switch, but then he thought the better of it and pulled out a flashlight. He scanned the room and noted the rose petals on the carpet. A little further on, he noticed Scully's skirt laying haphazardly on the floor, and he saw candles flickering through the bathroom door. An image passed through Mulder's head, and he almost ran for the door - but then changed his mind. There was no way Scully had a date; they were too wrapped up in this case. Besides, if Scully was this involved with a guy she would have told him, and there was no way that Scully would do anything like that after only a short while - right? The question remained as to whether he should check things out or leave quietly. There didn't seem to be anything wrong and all signs seemed to indicate that things could get very sticky if he decided to check things out. Mulder slipped the gun back into its holster and headed slowly back the way he had come. That's where he heard it. "Oh, God, Mulder!" His instincts propelled him around and into the bathroom - dropping the flashlight in his dash. He reached the bathroom and looked around by the light of the candles. He immediately noticed that Scully's head was below the water and reached down to see if she was alright. Apparently she was because as soon as Mulder's hands touched her shoulders she began to thrash around and succeeded in toppling Mulder right into the tub on top of her. The splash put out both candles, and they were plunged into the dark. She kicked and pushed at him for awhile longer, then he made a small noise. She stopped and bother were still for an excruciating moment. "Scully?" The breath caught in her throat. "Mulder?" Mulder suddenly realized that his hands were in inappropriate places and that his whole position made it difficult to be at all appropriate. He jumped out of the tub and fell backwards into the sink. "Ouch!" Then he hit the light switch. An awful lot of the water had been removed from the bathtub, and Scully was now in the position where she had to attempt to cover herself. And Mulder couldn't stop staring. Scully noticed Mulder's steady, fixated, gaze and averted her eyes. "What are you doing here?" Mulder fidgeted. "Well, I was reading my profile, and it suddenly occurred to me that he might target you so I wanted to check to make sure...." This sounds incredibly weak, Mulder thought. "Why didn't you call?" Silence. "Why didn't you knock?" Silence. "Why in the world did you.... I mean, Mulder!" He took a step backward in his nervousness and noticed his feet were tangled in something. He looked down, leaned over, and picked up the object. Then he realized it was a pair of red, lacy thong underwear. His eyes widened and his fingers automatically began to stroke the fabric. Then he realized what was going on, and he tossed the thong aside and turned away. Meanwhile, Scully was at a total loss. She wanted to throw him out or throw her arms around him and knew she shouldn't do either. Finally, she sighed. "Mulder, would you get me my robe? It should be hanging on the inside of my closet. And turn off the radio while you're in there." Mulder silently and obediently went to fetch the robe, returned, and handed it to her while looking away. Scully stepped out of the water and put on the robe. Then she put a hand on his shoulder. He practically jumped. The move sent daggers through her, but she could see that it hurt him too. "Thanks for checking to see that I was alright." "I'm really sorry, Scully. "I know." "Not that sorry." Scully smiled. It was going to be okay. She made him turn around to face her, and she began to remove his jacket. "What are you doing?" "Getting you out of these wet clothes, you are absolutely soaked!" Scully moved to the buttons on his shirt. "Thanks, Scully, but it's late. We have to be at that meeting at 8 o'clock. I'm better off going home like this and changing there." The shirt was off, and Scully started on his belt buckle. "It's January! I'm not going to let you catch pneumonia!" His pants slid to the ground. Mulder didn't move. "What're you going to put me in, Scully?" The thought of Mulder in her red, lacy thong crossed her mind, and she had to look away. "Scully?" Then in hit her. She turned away from him and headed into her bedroom, returning a moment later with a box. It contained a sweatshirt and sweatpants she had bought him after they'd only been partners for a few months. She decided it was a little too presumptuous to give them to him and had since forgotten that they even lay in the bottom of her closet. Scully opened the box and presented it to Mulder. She could tell he was surprised. He gave her a questioning look, which she decided to ignore. Instead she said, "Take them, they're yours." Mulder put on the sweat pants. As he did, Scully asked, "So, did you notice anything in those files besides the fact that I was about to be murdered?" "No. How about you? Did you notice anything in those coroner's reports?" "No. Well, actually, I really didn't get a chance to look yet." Mulder smiled. "Don't worry about it. It's late." He reached out to touch her shoulder. "So?" "So....what?" A million possibilities crossed Scully's mind, then she understood what he meant. "Well, you said it yourself, it's late. Why don't you spend the night? We can stop at your place in the morning." "Same car? Why don't I just put my suit back on from yesterday too? It'll save time and really start the rumors." Scully tried not to smile. "Fine. *You* can stop by your place tomorrow before the meeting." She turned towards the bedroom. "Take the bed." "I'm not letting you give up your bed for me." She turned and looked directly into his eyes. "Fine, then we'll both take the bed." Mulder watched Scully enter the bedroom and wondered what he had gotten himself into. He couldn't wait to find out. She turned down the bed for him and he got in. Then he proceeded to try to pretend that he wasn't watching her get changed for bed. Finally, she got in beside him. "Good-night, Scully." "Good-night, Mulder." She turned of the lights. "Good-night, John-Boy." "Go to sleep, Fox." **************The End************************** Thanks for reading! Hoped you liked it! Feedback welcome at agentchloe@geocities.com Read more of my stuff at http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Lair/1306 ~Agent Chloe Wildner, aka Jillian