************************************************************************** This author's e-mail address has changed to: damienma@netroenterprises.com ************************************************************************** From: Jori Date: Mon, 07 Sep 1998 21:32:50 GMT Subject: NEW: The Forbidden Revenge HUMOR cont. of The Forbidden Title: The Forbidden Revenge HUMOR Author: Jori Category: H Summary: After their little incident with Mulder's `Romance Novel,' Scully drives Mulder nuts with her "strange" music and he vows to get to the bottom of it. Rating: PG Disclaimer: They belong to CC, 1013 and Fox. Author's Notes: Below Wednesday January 13, 1999 Something strange is going on in this office. More to the point, something strange is going on with Scully. When I came into work this morning, she had the most interesting music playing. She turned it off as soon as she noticed me. I only caught a few lines before I walked through the door. It's by far the hardest thing I've ever done To be so in love with you and so alone. Follow me where I go What I do and who I know Make it part of you to be a part of me. First of all, why is she playing music in the office? Second of all, why is she playing THIS music in the office? Friday January 15, 1999 Today, more strange music. This time when I got in her car. It was in the cassette deck. More than the greatest love the world has known This is the love I'll give to you alone More than the simple words I try to say I only live to love you more each day She ejected it as soon as she got in. She didn't say anything. Was she in love? Without telling me? With whom? When? How long? Thursday January 21, 1999 I got off the elevator today and found her standing down the hall talking to Skinner. He was leaning casually against the wall with his arms crossed in front of him and smiling at her. She must have said something funny, because they both laughed. Then she touched his arm. And left her hand there for five seconds. I counted. Monday January 25, 1999 What in the hell is this. 'The Multi-Orgasmic Man.' This book is sitting on Scully's desk. Ok, it was in her desk. Her locked desk I was looking for pencils. Or something. And I found it. In all honesty, I almost fell over. She would tell me if there was someone, wouldn't she? This woman I've spent nearly every day of my life with for 6 years would tell me. Unless she couldn't. Thursday January 28, 1999 Today she spent two hours in a meeting with Skinner. He told me that I wasn't needed. Scully was all he needed. Those were his exact words. Ok. Maybe not his exact words. More like "I only need Agent Scully up here." But it's the same thing. Tuesday February 2, 1999 Groundhog's Day. Everybody else looks gloomy with the forecast of a late spring. Except Scully. She looks positively exhilarated. Have her skirts been getting shorter lately? It has got to be my imagination. Wednesday February 3, 1999 Was that a book of poetry she was reading today when I walked in the office? 'Three Hundred Magical Poems of Love' I think it said. Three hundred!! That's a lot of poetry reading. She tucked it discretely into her desk drawer. The drawer I now refer to as 'The Love Drawer' because that is where she is always tucking everything when I walk in. Friday February 5, 1999 More music. At least it was better music. I stood out in the hall listening to it, knowing she would turn it off as soon as I walked in. Wise men say only fools rush in but I can't help falling in love with you Shall I stay Would it be a sin If I can't help falling in love with you What was she up to with this music? At least it wasn't Pachelbel's Canon in D. That was what I was greeted with coming back from lunch yesterday. Monday February 8, 1999 This is what I heard when I stood outside the door today. Well then what's to be the reason for becoming man and wife? Is it love that brings you here or love that brings you life? For if loving is the answer then who's the giving for? Do you believe in something that you've never seen before? Oh, there's love. There is love. Ok. This morning's song certainly is positively a wedding song. Maybe not. Maybe I'm imagining everything. Then her mother kept calling about something or another. All afternoon. I couldn't figure it out from Scully's half of the conversation. I asked her what was up. She just smiled at me and said nothing. Tuesday February 9, 1999 Today, when she got out of the car for a few minutes to pick up some dry cleaning, I popped out her cassette tape. It had no label. So I pushed it into the player to see what she was listening to. This was the strangest one of all. Seedlings turn overnight to sunflowers, Blossoming even as we gaze. Sunrise, sunset. Sunrise, sunset. Swiftly fly the years. One season following another, Laden with happiness and tears Why would Scully be listening to what is a considered a Jewish wedding song? Ok. Maybe Skinner isn't what she is up to. That new guy down in evidence? The one who is always doing her stuff fast, or faster than he does anything I ever ask for. He could be Jewish. One never knows. Wednesday February 10, 1999 I asked her out for Valentine's Day. I was sure she would say no. If there was someone, I was sure she would want to spend the day with them. Then she would have to explain why she couldn't go out and I would have my answers. Instead she accepted. But she told me we'd have to make it early. Now I'm suspicious again. Thursday February 11, 1999 Today she was gone for lunch for two hours. I was working upstairs when she got back. Yes, I was spying. She got off the elevator with Skinner and went into his office. Friday February 12, 1999 Scully got a bouquet of roses. One dozen red, long-stemmed roses. She read the card, smiled and put it in her pocket. I asked from whom they were from. She just smiled at me, again, and said nothing. Did I mention that Skinner was leaving for a seminar today? Saturday February 13, 1999 I have just spent the last two hours playing one of those songs of hers over and over. More than you'll ever know My arms long to hold you so My life will be in your keeping Waking, sleeping, laughing, weeping I know. I'm crazy. I actually went out and bought an album of wedding music. The clerk looked at me like I was insane. She feels this way about someone? Who? Skinner? Really? Hold yourself together, Mulder. She'll tell you when she's ready. You know, she's been kind of strange since that whole Romance Novel set up. I know I never lived before And my heart is very sure No one else could love you more. Or so I thought... ******************************************** Sunday February 14, 1999 I knock on her door at 6:30 p.m. and no one answers. I hear more music. Different music. I open the door and find her on some piece of exercise equipment I've never noticed before. Why is she worried about her figure now? She doesn't know that I'm watching her. Her eyes are closed. She is glistening with sweat. What is she listening to now? At least it's not more 'love songs.' Come stand a little bit closer Breathe in and get a bit higher You'll never know what hit you when I get to you Ooh I want you, I don't know if I need you but Ooh I'd die to find out So would I. Did that thought just come to my head? What's wrong with me. This is Scully. I wonder who this music makes her think of. Then she licks her lips. I wonder again who she is thinking of as she does this simple act that could drive some men crazy. "Hi, Mulder. You just going to stand there staring?" she asks, stepping down off her Nordic Track "Happy Valentine's Day, Scully. Here. These are for you," I say as I hand her a dozen peach colored roses. "Thanks," she says as she puts them aside, "Let me go shower and get dressed. You're early." "What time did I say our reservations are for?" "I believe you said 7:30. I didn't want to get home too late, remember?" "Why? There's nothing good on TV on Sunday nights." "I'll be back in a couple of minutes. Make yourself at home," she tells me as she heads off to her bathroom. I think I will just snoop around a little and see what Little Miss I-Don't-Want-To-Be-Home-Late is up to. To the refrigerator first. Two bottles of champagne. One pint of strawberries. A can of Reddi-Wip. I shut the door. That was enough of a mental picture to last me a year. I turn the music off on her stereo and look at what she has sitting out on top. Ravel's 'Bolero.' Beethoven's 'Pathetique.' The soundtrack to 'Sleepless in Seattle'. Quite a mixture. I sit pouting on the couch waiting for her. I pick up the book she has on the coffee table. `The Best Bed and Breakfasts in New England.' Hmm- Finally she comes out of her bedroom. She has on the most stunning red dress I've ever seen her in. Not a streetwalker red, but that deep red she looks so good in. The one she should wear more often. "You'll be cold," I tell her. Was that really all my brain could think to say? "I have a jacket, Mulder. So what did you spend the day doing? Did you try to prove that cupid really does exist?" "Not exactly," I tell her, embarrassed that I spent the last two days listening to 'Love Songs.' "Well, let's get going." I help her on with her jacket and notice she is wearing these strappy little heels. "Your feet are going to freeze, too. And I don't have any extra socks to give you this time." "I'll be fine." "You look nice." "Thanks." I put my hand on her back to lead her out the door. She turns to lock her door and I don't want to move my hand. She just smiles at me. In the car on our way to the restaurant, I decide I'm going to pry a little more. She keeps flipping through the radio stations looking for something. I don't know what. She finally settles on more love songs. "So, when is Skinner getting back in town?" I ask. "I think he said he'd be back tonight. Around 9 or so. Anyway, that is what he told me in case we had any emergencies," she answers, turning her head to look out the window. "So, what time do you need to be home?" "By 9:00 p.m. at least." "Ok." So that was it. **************************************** The restaurant is crowded, but Scully is by far one of the most beautiful women there. Heads actually turn as we walk to the table. She is glowing. I guess love does that to a person. We finish our dinner and I decide to broach the subject again. She has checked her watch about ten times in the last half an hour. Plus checked the messages on her machine once. "Here's to love," I say, holding up my half empty glass of tea. "Love," is all she says back. Her eyes get all glazed looking though. "So, are we doomed to spend every Valentine's Day together like this, Scully?" "Well, we are usually holed up in some cheap motel for Valentine's Day, Mulder." I nearly choke on my tea. The elderly couple at the table next to us turn their heads to look at us. "I'm sorry you are stuck with just me today, Scully," I put out there, hoping she'd bite. "Why do you say that, Mulder?" "You know, I'm sure you would rather be with someone else, instead of being here with me." "If I wanted to be with someone else, I would be." "Who?" "Who, who?" "Who would you be with?" "What are you talking about?" "You said if you wanted to be with someone else, you would be. Who are they?" "I don't think I want to talk about this." "Then there is someone?" "I just don't want to discuss this, Mulder. I'm going to the rest room. I'll meet you at the door." Well, that got me no where fast. She had to be seeing Skinner. Why else would she not be willing to talk about it. Why else would she be in such a hurry to get home. The drive back to her apartment is a long one. "It's not like I didn't notice the champagne and strawberries, Scully," I finally say. "Are you spying on me?" "Like you're one to talk! Besides, it's not like the music hasn't been a bit obvious." "This is personal, Mulder. I don't want to talk about it with you. Not yet." "You'll tell me when you are ready?" "You'll be one of the first to know." One of the first. Great. "Scully, if it's Skinner, I don't think that's such a good idea." "Oh, you don't, do you." "Or that new guy in evidence. He's a little young for you." "Excuse me!" "But back to Skinner-" "Mulder, I don't want to talk about it." I walk her to her door. She says a pleasant goodnight and then shuts the door on me. Well, you can't live a secret life around me. I'm an FBI agent for chrisakes. I knew she was going to snoop through my stuff. I know her. Or maybe I don't. I think a little surveillance is in order. I sit in my car for three hours. Nobody comes or goes. It is midnight. I have to know. She answers her door still wearing the red dress we went to dinner in. "What are you doing back here, Mulder?" "I never left." "What?" "I need to know what's going on, Scully. You've got to let me know. You're my best friend. You're my partner. Tell me." "I've only got one word for you, Mulder." "What?" I ask, thinking to myself that buzz off is two words. She grabs me by my necktie and pulls me through the door. "Gottcha!" The End Author's Notes. The songs belong to John Denver, Elvis, Paul Stookey, The lyricists of Fiddler on the Roof, Savage Garden and I can't figure out to whom "More" belongs to. I came up with Scully's revenge when I fell asleep at the end of Sunday night's showing of Kitsunegari. One moment I'm watching the X-Files, the next thing I know someone is singing "More." It was the Oral-B commercial. But in my dream hazy mind, I put the two together and couldn't figure out why that song was on the X-Files. So this is how my story came about. Hope you enjoyed it. What happens after her "Gotthca!" is up to your imagination. But Reddi-Wip always comes in handy.