From: spooky42@juno.com Subject: REVISED: "Peanut Butter and Jelly Tastes Awful Over Unrequited Love" (1/3) Date: Mon, 02 Jun 1997 05:22:14 EDT ================================================= "Peanut Butter and Jelly Tastes Awful Over Unrequited Love" -another X-Files story (sigh, sigh)- written by GreenFish ================================================= "Love ceases to be a pleasure when it ceases to be a secret." -Aphra Behn "A graceful taunt is worth a thousand insults." -Louis Nizer ================================================= INTRODUCTION: What to say, what to say? I've discovered that I've become addicted to reading and writing fan fiction... (hmm, big surprise-- after twenty-some personally written accounts [farces], and a couple disks full of fiction I actually bothered to download-- who would have guessed?) ...anyway, this idea came out of the beginning to Kristy Hughes' "Favors," which, by the way, is the beginning to one of the most hilarious series I've ever read (Just call me "Slick.") The title to this loosely stems from one of my favorite Charlie Brown quotes... thanks to Charles Schultz, and the indefinite quest for the 'little red-haired girl'... how poignantly appropriate that seems now! ================================================= DISCLAIM: Mulder and Scully ain't mine... you know that, I know that, but every once in a while I like to abduct-- er, kidnap them for enjoyment. Sorry to the Big C, but I thought they could use a little vacation. DISTRIBUTE: Anywhere CONTENT/SPOILER: I'm not expecting anything mushy, but with me, you can never rule it out! Anyway, I've read one-too-many 'shipper stories to date, and it's warping my mind. Gets a *bit* raunchy at parts, but no blatant MSR. Spoilers-- a couple fourth season bits-- occurs before "TP"/"Max" two-parter, for obvious reasons. Mulder/other, Scully/other romance, by the way... ARCHIVE: S; H/R SUMMARY: Mulder and Scully meets Fleischmann and O'Connell (remember 'Northern Exposure?') and explode in a volcano of cruel UST. Funny stuff. Anyhow... enjoy the ride. ================================================== "Peanut Butter and Jelly Tastes Awful Over Unrequited Love" (1/3) -Spooner, WI., 7:45 p.m- ---------------------------------------- 5th April 1997 Special Agent Dana Scully trudged slowly through another three feet of mud, hoping to God that the straps that were connected to her boots did not snap on her. They certainly felt like they were about to. She wondered where her partner was. Shrugging, Scully bent down to stare at something... could it be...? Pulling on a full rubber glove, she reached down, and grabbed what she had spotted near the edge of the lake-- though it was more like a mud hole than anything. It looked like--? ...A Burger King wrapper. Scully sighed, crumbling it up. "What do you like on your Whopper, Scully?" She heard the voice behind her and had to furiously fight back the urge to 'accidentally' kick up some mud. She had been trudging around in sludge that ranged up from about two to four foot's worth, and if it hadn't have been for the waders they had burrowed from the local bait shop, Scully never would have seen her clothes again. Stiffening her lip, she turned around to face her partner. "Anything but stale mud, Mulder," she replied. "Why are we even here? This is probably the most ridiculous case we've ever been on." "Worse than the robotic cockroach probes from outer space?" Fox Mulder asked with the hints of a sardonic smile. she thought bitterly. "No comment," she finally said. Mulder continued to smile. "So maybe I was wrong this time." "Hmm... no comment again." "I noticed a Sizzler down the road... you wanna eat?" "You wanna shower first, partner?" she asked. Lest they went in, mistaken for a pair of barnyard animals, she thought. "Baaah ram eweee..." Mulder crowed at her. She barely managed to keep herself from rolling her eyes, and slowly suctioned herself out of the mud. Before she made it out, though, Scully just happened to kick up some mud, spattering it all over her partner. "Oh my God, Mulder!" she said, sounding convincingly surprised. Mulder, himself, glanced down in shock at what had just happened to himself. "Scully..." he said, slowly turning to look up at her. "Did you, uh... happen to do that on purpose?" By the time he managed that out of his mouth, she was already out of the mud, and edging her way back over to their car. "Uh, no, Mulder... why would I =want= to splatter you with that mud?" she asked, still holding an amazingly straight face. Mulder didn't know how to reply. If his partner was right; and she hadn't meant to do that, and he bombarded her with a mud shower... chances were that she wouldn't speak to him for the rest of the trip. But then again, she hadn't been talking to him much lately, anyhow.... But, still, he thought. However, if she =had= done it on purpose, and was just a really damn good liar, he was duly impressed. But would not be undaunted at getting her back. Ah, he thought, pulling his way out of the mud. There would be plenty of time for that later. -Sizzler Resturaunt, County Road H, 9:01 p.m.- Finally. Dana Scully was starved. They had eaten a rather late breakfast, and thus, had skipped lunch. She was now at the epitome of hunger. And even though Scully wasn't normally into the "steak 'n buffet" sort of setting, any food would have done at that point. Especially in the middle of Boontown, here, she thought. They were seated, and were basically waiting for a waitress to get them drinks and plates. Mulder, surprisingly, had said very little as of yet. Scully was just waiting for her partner to break. "So," she said. "So," he replied. She wondered if it was merely conversational, or if he was going to try and mirror every statement that she made. Unfortunately, Scully never got the chance to find out, as the waitress arrived at that moment. "Well, 'lo, y'all... how're you doin' tonight?" Scully wondered about this woman who had a southern accent up in Northern Wisconsin. They both smiled politely, and the girl took it as an invitation to continue. "All right, then. Can I get you all something to drink?" "Yes," Scully said. "I'd like an iced tea, and if you could get me a buffet plate--" She waited while the girl wrote it down. "Excuse me, please." Scully got up, and made a break for the bathroom. That was the other thing. She had been out in those damn waders all afternoon, and had completely forgotten to go when she had finally gotten them off back at the motel room. But then again, that motel had left something to be desired. She had to wonder where Mulder *found* those places sometimes. Meanwhile, Mulder sat back at the table, glancing over the menu. "I'll have the steak 'n make," he said, reading off the menu's description of their steak and buffet dinner. "Oh--" Mulder glanced down again. "And could you add on the 'all-you-can-eat hungry man' for the lady, there...?" He motioned to the empty seat. The waitress looked up, an inquiring gaze upon her face. "Oh-- he said. "We haven't eaten all day, as we've been working, and she told me was dying to order steak. I'll sure she forgot all about it." The waitress rose an eyebrow, but said nothing. "I'll be back with your plates and drinks right away," she replied, and headed off. ***** When Scully had arrived back at the table, she saw a empty plate waiting for her there, along with the iced tea she had ordered. "Ah," she said, picking up the plate. It appeared that Mulder had already headed off to the salad bar/buffet. She got up, and headed over. She figured it wouldn't hurt to grab a bit of everything-- she might as well as long as they hadn't eaten all day. By the time she had gone through the entire bar, her plate was bulging over with food. She started to head back to the table, and noticed that almost her entire eating space was covered in various plates-- each with something else on them. One had a *huge* steak on it, another with vegetables, and yet another with potatoes and corn on it. She eyed the table tentatively, and set her plate down on the little room there was left. "What the hell--?" she asked. She looked up at her partner, who just happened to be busy with his small side-steak and plate from the buffet. It had to be a mistake, she thought. "Excuse me," she said, motioning to the waitress. The woman came over. "Can I help you?" "Yes... is there some sort of mistake here? I didn't order all of this food--" "Oh, but the gentleman there said that you wanted this-- it's our hungry man 'all-you-can-eat' steak and buffet. You two have been working all day...?" she said with a concerned look. "Uh, yeah," Scully said, looking back at the table full of food again. Mulder was more engrossed in his food than ever, she noticed. "Thanks," she said to the waitress, waving her off. "Actually, this all looks fabulous." Scully noticed, just out of the corner of her eye, the half-second that Mulder flinched in. If she hadn't thought about it, she probably wouldn't have noticed it at all... But Scully knew that he hadn't expected that reaction out of her, upon seeing all that extra food. Well, two could play at this game, she thought. She smiled sweetly. "I really appreciate you thinking of me this way, Mulder. I mean-- ordering all of this--" He looked up, seemingly surprised that she was even talking to him. It wasn't long before his expression closed up again. He was instantly suspicious that she was up to something. But he wasn't going to let her know that. "Really, Scully?" "Yeah. I never would have done it myself-- I guess it's just a woman thing, you know... under-ordering for ourselves..." She was even gauche enough to smile at him. "I don't know what I'd do without you Mulder." He obviously wasn't expecting that reaction, either, because he retreated even more, and even began to pout a bit. "Anything to be of service," he managed to mumble before going back to his food again. Scully smiled to herself. She had a lot more tricks up her sleeve for later. Besides, she thought. Whatever food she couldn't eat then would certainly taste great later that night, when she had the taste for a midnight snack. Besides-- if that was the best that Mulder thought he could come up with... -FBI Headquarters, Washington DC, 10:13 a.m.- -------------------------------------------------------------------------- 14th April 1997 (One week later) "Agent Scully?" Agent Jason Pendrell was surprised to see the face of his favorite red-headed female G-woman in his lab. A true woman of science-- she was a pure fantasy come alive. He tried not to sound too excited to see her, but with the few appearances she actually made, he had to treasure each one. "Morning, Agent Pendrell. How goes work in the Sci-Crime Lab?" "Pretty routine, actually," he said with the hints of an exasperated sigh. "We haven't had much but a few computer fraud cases, and breach of security. Not the usual X-filian interesting fare." "Nothing spooky, huh?" Scully asked, almost smiling. Anything close to a smile was a full-fledged grin to Agent Pendrell. And it was all he needed to light up his day. "Nope," he replied. "Do you have something for me?" he asked, hope in his voice. "Actually," Scully said, looking up for a second, "I don't have anything for you this time." "You don't?" Pendrell squeaked. Agent Scully had =never= come down to his lab without an assignment in hand; nor her partner, for that matter. What could she possibly be down there for? Had he analyzed something wrong for them? Had Mulder told her about how he had a crush on her? He still wondered how Mulder had picked up on the fact so quickly... <"Agent Scully isn't coming? Why?"> <"She's got a date-- Breathe, Agent Pendrell... it's with a dead man. She's doing an autopsy."> Was he that obvious? he wondered. Pendrell's shoulders slumped just at the thought that he could actually be that apparent...! He swallowed, and forced himself to look at the gorgeous agent. "Um... why are you here, then, Agent Scully?" he finally managed to say. Pendrell seated himself on a stool before he could fall over. He had a feeling he was going to need the support. "Actually," Scully said, avoiding his glance for one of the first times since she had met him, "I was wondering what you're doing on Friday night." Her eyes met with his again. He was right. He did need the support. "Fr--Friday night?" he stuttered. "This Friday?" "Yes," Scully said. "Are you, uh... busy?" She was a bit embarrassed to be asking. Scully wasn't usually the type to ask men out on dates. But she had never put it past herself, either. "U-uh... no, I don't think so... I mean, no-- I mean, why?" Scully shrugged, as casually as she could. She didn't want Agent Pendrell-- who was obviously a lot younger, and a bit more nervous than her-- to actually think that she, herself, was anxious about the whole thing. "Um... well, maybe... you'd want to catch dinner and a movie, or something?" "A date?" Pendrell asked. He nearly hit himself as soon as the words had come out of his mouth. That sounded way too forward, and way too excited, he thought. Great... now Scully would never want to go through with it... "I guess that's what I'm asking," she said. His eyebrows went up. There was no hint of surprise left unexpressed in Agent Pendrell's freckled face. "Uh... yeah, actually-- that would be great." "Okay," Scully said. "Can I call you, then?" "Yeah-- uh, sure..." Pendrell said, still stuttering violently, and went to reach for a pen and paper. He scrawled it out as quickly as he could, so to get it over with, and handed the scrap over to Scully. She squinted at it, trying to decipher Pendrell's handwriting. she thought with irony. "Is that a '5' there?" she asked, pointing to one of the last numbers in the sequence. "No, that's a seven," he said. "Oh," Scully said, trying not to smile. "Okay-- well," she looked up at him, her gaze nearly melting him, "I'll call you, then." "Okay," Pendrell said breezily, already lost in another world. How the hell was he going last an entire week until then? He just knew he wasn't going to be getting any work done. Pendrell could already imagine the feel of her hand as it gently clasped his in the darkened theater... The door clicked shut just as a small sigh escaped his lips. -Office of Fox Mulder, 10:47 a.m.- "Yeah-- so, Friday night? All right... Karen... yes, I-- okay. Okay-- I'll see you..." There was a pause, and the voice that followed was significantly softer. "Wear whatever you want-- well, something decent until--" He coughed. "All right, all right. I'll call you on Thursday. All right... bye." As Mulder hung up his office phone, he looked up guiltily to see his partner staring at him, slightly amused. He hadn't wanted her to know what he had been talking about. For some reason, neither of them took it well if the other happened to get themselves a date. It was probably just their inferiority complexes working, but it always seemed as if something was amiss when they made social plans outside of work-- with other people, that was. It wasn't that Mulder didn't welcome the invitation to do something else... he just never had the time, or the immediate desire to make an effort, and form a relationship. Somehow, though, after that last case, the very last thing he desired to do was to spend his next weekend, holed up at his apartment with that damned annoying partner of his, filling out mounds of paperwork. Tens of thousands of things had gone wrong, and Mulder had a feeling that they had all been done in purpose, and not of accident. Scully usually didn't hold grudges after cases, but-- He frowned, and thought back to what had happened that last Friday. -Washington DC, 4:02 p.m.- --------------------------------------------------- 11th April 1997 (Three days earlier) "Dale, I don't know what I'd do without you..." Dana Scully was leaning over the counter of Dale Martin, an old college acquaintance of hers that just happened to own a photo studio in Washington DC. The handsome man in his early thirties grinned back at her. If he hadn't been married, Dale probably would have asked her out. But he was married, and from what he had heard, so was Dana. To her work, that was. He didn't really see her much, but word had gotten around that she was now a Special Agent at the FBI, working under some branch called the 'X-Files,' investigating paranormal stuff and UFO's. He had always considered Dana the type to repute "all that crap," as she would have once put it, but nothing really surprised Dale anymore. Even in his still-young age, he had already seen too much to let anything surprise him. Just the photos he developed on a near-daily basis would have put the weak-of-heart into instant coronaries. But not Dale. "Just as long as you don't bring in that nephew of yours," he replied, picking up the string. The little six year-old had been a horror the one time Dana had brought him in with her brother, and the kid's mother. Dana had flatteringly called him the "best photographer on the East coast," but Dale had vowed never to see that kid again. He hadn't sat still for a second. Dana smiled back at him. "Sorry about that, Dale... I still can't believe we couldn't get him to sit there for the picture, even after allowing him to hold his 'Tickle me Elmo.'" Dale shrugged. "Kids today." He glanced down at his messy counter, and then back up at her. "Anyway-- what did you need from me today?" "I was wondering if you could help me with some special photography and photo-imaging I need. It's not too big of a deal, but I was wondering if I could have it by tonight." "What's it you need exactly?" "Well, you have the equipment to take and develop right here, right?" she asked. "Sure... and for you, I could have it done in less than an hour." Dana smiled warmly. "I appreciate that... but I'm going to need a little help with a sign I want to make to go in the photo-- and it's got to be readable on the photograph--" Dale squinted in confusion. "You'll see once I explain," she continued. "Believe me... I think you'll like this one..." -Alexandria, Virginia, 5:01 p.m.- As promised, Dale had gotten the picture ready in less than an hour, which allowed Scully enough time to set up exactly what she needed to... She grinned to herself. Mulder had said he wasn't leaving work until she got back to pick up the paperwork, which meant that she could follow him around afterwards. She wanted to make sure she was there when he caught sight of her handiwork. Scully headed into the bathroom of her partner-- something which she realized she had only seen once in the thousands of times she had been over to his apartment-- and lifted up the lid to the toilet seat. (end part one) "Peanut Butter and Jelly Tastes Awful Over Unrequited Love" (2/3) -FBI headquarters, Washington DC, 6:00 p.m.- Mulder felt like a caged rat down in the basement office. The mildew down there had begun to get to him, causing him launch into a sneezing attack every few minutes. Beyond that, he realized that he was the only agent left in his hallway; that was still in the *office,* that was. No one except agents on active cases bothered to stay out past five o'clock on a Friday afternoon. Where the hell was Scully? She had said she would come back to meet him, and pick up the paperwork. He was tired, and irritable, and just wanted to pick up something to eat, and get back home, so they could finish up the papers. He was looking forward to having the rest of the weekend free. Maybe I could take a trip up to New York on Saturday and catch a Knicks game, he thought, the gloom over his head beginning to brighten. That gloom quickly returned, however, with the arrival of his partner. She swept in with a flourish, and grabbed the papers off of his desk, heading out just as quickly as she had come. "Hey-- Scully!" he called out, grabbing his trench coat and closing the door to his office as he went to follow her. "Wait up!" She turned around, an annoyed look on her face. "Why are you so damn slow all the time, Mulder?" She flipped back around, and gave a little exasperated sigh. He looked at her, finally level with her position, utterly confused. "What the hell are you talking about, Scully?" "Nothing-- never mind," she said, pressing the elevator button to head up to the ground level. They stepped on, and the door closed. No sooner had the elevator started to move, when there was a loud creak, and a heavy jolt as the elevator came to a dead halt. "Shit..." she mumbled to herself. Luckily, the power was still partially on in the unit; enough so that they at least had light. Scully was glancing around at the walls, and then up at the ceiling, when her partner descended upon her. She became uncomfortable at the fact that she could suddenly feel her partner's warm breath upon her face. Any warm breath upon her face might have made her feel the same way, but merely the fact that it was Mulder's... "You know, Scully--" he murmured. "I've often dreamed about this exact situation, and what we would do--" She had to swallow hard as he strattled her right leg between his own two. Just the fact that she couldn't tell whether he was doing it just to annoy her, or if he truly was serious extremely worried her. She licked her lip lightly, and finally forced herself to look in his eyes, where she caught that spark of teasing. "Mulder... did you really want to play ring toss, or are you just happy to see me?" Something about the fact that she had come back with the perfect flame completely threw him off, and he literally fell off of his position on her. Scully stifled a laugh as his back slammed up against the opposite wall of the elevator, a hurt expression on his face. He definitely hadn't expected her to come back that quickly-- or that eloquently, for that matter. Even from his injured position on the opposite end of the elevator, Mulder didn't waste much time in coming back to the game. "Why, Scully, I didn't know you played that." "Yes, but usually not on elevators... and it usually takes some convincing before they want to play." Scully's mouth twisted up into an evil grin, and she paused very significantly before adding on, "I see you jumped right to the gun." Mulder tried to hide his embarrassment by quickly shooting back, "I'm just glad you were so willing to play." "Who said I wanted to play?" Scully asked. Mulder caught her just as he was about to turn on his cell phone, and nearly dropped it at that comment. "I'm going to call someone to see if we can get--" Just as he said that, the elevator started up again. That was quicker than they usually did, he realized. But not quick enough to save his partner from having her last shot at him, he thought in perturbation. He just hoped Scully and him could decide on something to eat. -Alexandria, Virginia, 6:49 p.m.- Amazingly enough, the two of them had decided on what to get for dinner right away-- and made it over to Mulder's apartment in no time. Maybe it was just the fact that they were dying to get the work over with, and finally get away from each other. Or perhaps it was that Scully wanted to get to his apartment to gauge Mulder's reaction towards the little stunt she had set up in his bathroom. She was dying to see how he would react. She didn't know why, but for some reason, something had suddenly sparked inside of her that caused some perverse pleasure in annoying the hell out of her partner that week. And he seemed to be sharing that same pleasure, as he hadn't let up on her all week, either. Well, if he wasn't going to stop the war, she certainly wasn't offering up the white flag anytime soon. They would soon find out who was the strong one on this end, she thought. As they pulled up to his ivy-covered apartment building, Mulder stopped the ignition, and opened the door before she did, automatically pressing the power locks before she could open the door. She growled as she attempted to open the door; only to find it locked. Grabbing the brown Burger King bags, and the two sodas, she kicked the door the rest of the way open-- after opening it for herself-- and stepped out, kicking it back shut. They started to head up, when Mulder asked, "Scully-- where's the paperwork?" She looked at him. "I thought you would have grabbed it, Mulder. I've got all our food." As he went back to the car to retrieve the papers, she quickly went into the building, and took the elevator up to the fourth floor, so that Mulder would have to wait for it to go up, and come back down. Grinning at her childish, but quite satisfying move, she headed down the hallway to his apartment, and unlocked it with her spare key. Heading in, Scully set the bags down on the front table, and argued with herself whether to lock the door on him or not. Finally, she decided that they had the rest of the night to argue. She could allow him one freebie, she supposed. Two minutes later, when Mulder finally made it up to his floor, and down the hallway, she heard a clicking at the doorknob. He had been so convinced that she would lock it-- she realized suddenly-- that he put the key right into the lock without checking it... and locked the door on himself...! She chuckled, and shook her head, settling herself at the table. After about half-a-minute of struggle, he finally managed to unlock it again, and burst through the door. "Jesus, Scully! Next time you're going to do something nice, and leave the door open, will you at least let me know?" "Sit down and eat, Mulder," she replied, grabbing out her chicken sandwich, and portion of fries. She slid the bag, and the remainder of its contents back down to Mulder, who went at it like a lion attacked its prey. ***** It was about halfway through their paperwork that all the soda that Mulder had to drink was finally setting into his system. "Excuse me, Scully," he said, pushing back his chair from the table. "Hmm?" she asked, hoping he was getting up for the reason she thought he was getting up. She had been anticipating this moment for the entire day-- hoping that her forty-five minutes worth of photography work had been worth it. "I have to see a man about a mule," he replied, heading down the hall. Scully frowned, thinking about that. She waited, grinning to herself. As Mulder headed into the bathroom, he really wasn't thinking about anything except relieving himself. He headed into the small room, and shut the door behind him. He didn't notice that the lid was down until he had unzipped his pants. Being a bachelor, he really didn't worry about that sort of thing. Mulder lifted the lid, and immediately let go, sighing in relief. In fact, it took about five seconds before he noticed the photograph-- taped to the underside of the seat... right where he was standing. "Scully!" he hissed to himself. On the seat was a picture of her, pointing directly ahead, and laughing. But that wasn't the most damning part. In the picture-- which was amazing crisp and enlarged, he noticed, she was holding up a sign, that read, "Ha, ha-- it's so small!" It was about the most immature thing he could have possibly imagined that she could have done... but somehow, it was working. He found himself glancing down at it, wondering...? He couldn't help it, though. Mulder was insecure at times, and if there was one insecurity that had always gnawed away at him on some deep, secret level... that was it. And what bothered him even more was that his partner had known to go right to it. Twice that day, in fact! He hated her. He had to figure out how... This new idea could take a few day's development. Definitely worth it, though, he realized. He zipped up his pants, and washing his hands, headed back out into the room. He saw Scully immediately try to hide her smile, but knew that she was feeling smug. "My little person wants to know why you don't have a date tonight, either, Agent Scully?" he asked, not caring whether she was going to shoot him down or not. He was annoyed-- "Who says I don't?" she asked. "Who says you do?" Mulder asked. Scully shrugged. He had gotten her there, at least. The rest of the night went along quietly, except for near the very end. Mulder glanced at the clock... 11:30 already? he thought. He finished filling out the last lines on the forms, and started to set them in the middle with the rest of his papers-- When he suddenly felt a French fry fall onto his lap. He looked up at his partner, with an expression that pleaded the fifth. Ignoring the fry for the moment, he stretched his arms, and yawned. "How far are you on those papers, Scully?" "Just finished mine." "Me too. Why don't I give you a ride home?" Scully frowned. Why was he offering to drive her? True, he had driven her over there, but she could just take a cab, she thought. "Mulder, that's not necessary, I could just--" "Oh, no," he replied. "I drove you over here. That way you can save your cab fare for later. If you want, I'll just drop you off by your car-- you left it in the parking garage, right?" "Yeah," Scully said, still treading cautiously. He didn't seem to be up to anything... yet. The entire ride over to the FBI parking garage was without event also, to Scully's surprise. She had expected him to bring her on some wild goose-ride somewhere, just to see how long it would take her to say anything. Scully suspected that her partner was too tired to pull anything that drastic. Even if he never did sleep, anyhow. She stepped out of the car easily, not having to wait for him to unlock the door, or anything odd like that. She watched in puzzlement as he also stepped out of the car, and waited while she unlocked her car, and then proceeded to help her open the door. Scully didn't say anything, but glanced at her partner as if he belonged in a mental institution. "I'm sorry," he said. "I just feel bad about how rude I've been this week." Scully became extremely puzzled. Mulder never apologized that easily-- not without some sort of reason, she thought. But she was probably too tired herself to think clearly. "Oh-- well, apology accepted, Mulder." "Thanks," he replied, his voice going surprisingly soft on her, and he gave her a quick peck on the cheek. As her mouth was hanging open at him, he afforded himself the quick opportunity to squirt a ketchup packet on the not-yet-forgotten French fry, and quickly stuff it in the gaping space. "There's a midnight snack for 'ya," he quickly got out before sprinting around to his side of the car, and getting in. Mulder started up the car immediately. He couldn't help rolling down the window a crack, however. "See you on Monday, Scully!" As he squealed out, the fry was already out of her mouth, and she hurled it back at his car, leaving a satisfyingly nice red stain on his back windshield. She grinned, and stepped into her own car. -Office of Fox Mulder, 10:50 a.m.- ----------------------------------------------------- 14th April 1997 "So, Mulder... what *was* that phone call about? You been calling 1-900-LIVE-SEX again?" Mulder cringed at Scully's tone. The first time he had seen her since Friday night, and already, she was on him. "No... that was, uh-- just Agent Lavery, from Explosives." "Planning on setting off some fireworks?" Scully asked innocently. Her tone was nice enough, he thought, but one glance at those eyes of hers gave away her true intentions. And besides, he wouldn't have even had to look at her to know exactly what she had meant. "We agreed to go out to a movie, Scully," he said, slightly perturbed. "Really?" she asked, turning to raise her eyebrows at him. That tone was entirely too inviting, he thought. "What?" "I was just down in the Sci-Crime lab, Mulder, and I was talking to Agent Pendrell--" "Pendrell?" Mulder asked, this time, his eyebrows going up. "Yeah-- you wouldn't mind if we joined you, would you?" "Pendrell asked you out?" Mulder asked, unbelieving. "No, I did." Mulder's expression became even wider. Scully asked Agent *Pendrell* out on a date? But he was just a lab nerd, he thought. Why the hell would she be choosing him, when-- Mulder stopped himself from thinking what he was thinking before he could finish the thought. That was entirely dangerous territory to be treading on, Agent Mulder. Besides, he had a date for that weekend... Agent Lavery was a very good-looking woman... and perhaps she was a little, er-- forward... but that certainly wasn't going to stop him from having a good time that night. No annoying partner of his, or her silly date was going to ruin his plans-- "So?" Scully asked. "What?" "You mind?" Mulder squinted, trying to remember what she had told him. "What?" "If Pendrell and I join you," Scully replied. Mulder's mouth dropped slightly, trying to register what the words meant. He heard them, but they didn't seem to be making any sense... Finally, he realized what she had just asked. "Oh-- no," he finally said. "Did you have something planned?" "Well, I just suggested that we go to a movie. That was all." "Fine," Mulder said. "Fine," Scully said. Nothing more concurred between them on that subject for the rest of the day. -Annapolis, Maryland, 5:07 p.m.- ---------------------------------------------------- 18th April 1997 The entire week had been pretty quiet and routine for the most part. They had been assigned to a hostage situation in D.C. on Wednesday, as the abductor had proported psychic abilities. Much to Mulder's dismay, the criminal had just been using that as a scare tactic, and all of his claims were completely unsubstantiated. Luckily, however, they had been able to rescue all of the hostages, and arrest the guy. Mulder thanked the maker for his training in psychology, as he had been able to help pull the background check, and come up with a profile on the guy that helped bring him down. The week hadn't really been all that bad for either of them, but there was a definite strain between the two partners that was keeping them from communicating like they normally did. It was as if they were both preoccupied at the same time, so neither thought of the fact that they might speak to the other. In the end, it took Skinner to finally bring up the fact that they had barely spoken a word in conversation to one another. "You're supposed to be partners--" he growled. "Act like it." Truthfully, neither of the two were bothered by the fact that there was an unofficial code of silence for the week. They both were thinking about the weekend, and it seemed that the less that the two talked to one another, the less trouble they got in. Scully hadn't pulled anything on Mulder all week, and he hadn't made a single crack to her at all. As she sat there before the mirror, getting ready to go, she was surprised at the fact that he had even remembered to confirm their plans for that night. Supposedly, Pendrell was supposed to get there about a quarter after five, and then Mulder was going to meet there with Agent Lavery by five- thirty. She adjusted the last strand of her hair in front of the mirror, and pulled a bit on the v-neck sweater she had picked out. Maybe it was too much, she thought. It was just a black cable-knit with a fifty-percent silk weave that made it smooth to the touch. And the bit of Lycra in the sweater made it fit perfectly against herself, she noted with a bit of delight. She smoothed out the jeans she was wearing-- hoping that she hadn't gone too casual-- she had told them all to dress very casually-- and finally got up. As an afterthought, she coated her lips with a light color, and headed out of her bathroom. Just as she was doing so, she heard a knock at the door. Checking the peephole, Scully opened it up to see Jason Pendrell standing before her, holding a bouquet of roses in his hand. "My God--" she said, allowing him in, while taking the flowers. "These are--" "I thought you'd like them," he managed to mumble. She had a feeling Pendrell wasn't going to be speaking much that night. "Um-- let me grab a vase for those." As she headed into the kitchen to find one, she called out into the other room to Pendrell. "Make yourself at home on the couch there... I don't know if I mentioned, but we're double-dating with Mulder and his date--" "Oh," Pendrell said, sounding a little surprised. "His date?" "Agent Lavery, from Explosives," she explained, coming out with the vase full of roses. She set them on the front table behind the couch, which would be very visible upon walking in. Scully wasn't about to admit it, but she wanted to give Mulder a hard time if he didn't end up getting Lavery anything. She smiled to herself, and sat on the other end of the couch, looking at Pendrell expectantly. It was then that she realized how much cologne he was really wearing. It was nice--Aspen? she wondered-- but there was such a thing as too much of a good thing, she thought. He looked all right in a Henley and a pair of jeans, but the smell was so overpowering. She almost wanted to start humming the tune to Good Intentions... Before either could say a thing, there was another knock at the door. Scully glanced at her watch. She wondered what that meant, exactly. Scully headed up, and opened the door to Mulder, and Agent Lavery. "Hi there," she said to the both of them, and let them through. Scully made a quick note of their outfits-- Mulder's a typical jeans and mock turtleneck, but Agent Lavery's... a horrible mix of tight stretch jeans, and a v-neck shirt that scooped even lower than Scully's-- and didn't even look as good. Scully certainly didn't say anything however, and forced herself not to give Mulder a look. A look that he most certainly deserved for this interesting foray in taste, she thought. But she knew she had to restrain herself. There was always later, she thought, the evil pictures forming in her mind already. "Ready to go?" Lavery asked, slinking her arm around Mulder's waist. Scully watched as Mulder squirmed slightly, but suddenly settled into her as soon as he discovered that Scully was watching him. "Quite," Scully replied, taking a hold of Pendrell's hand. The night was warm, so none of them wore jackets. She followed them all out, locking the door when they reached the hallway, and headed down the front steps to where Mulder's chair was sitting right out front. She noticed Mulder instantly gravitate to his car with Elmer's Glue at his side. "I suppose you're driving, then?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at him. "Well, my car's right here, Scully. That does make sense, doesn't it?" He peeled Lavery off himself, and opened the door for her. Scully waited by the back passenger side until Mulder unlocked the car. She smiled at Pendrell as he opened the door for her. Scully stepped in, and he shut it, coming around. She remembered the one time Mulder had tried to feign a chivalrous move, and open the door for her. <"Scully... Scully!"> <"What?"> <"I just wanted to... open the car door for you..."> Of course, she had instantly given him an odd look-- and just as soon realized that he had done it as a distraction for their two suspects that they were holding, and not out of true politeness. It figured. Mulder just wasn't that kind of person. Except with his 'girl-of-the-week,' that was. It wasn't exactly like Mulder had a girl every week, she thought, but if he wanted to, he certainly could have pulled it off. And every girl that he did manage to go out with was just as cheap as any such type of girl would have been. Agent Lavery was certainly no exception, she thought, noting the way that she strattled her legs towards Mulder in the front seat. Scully forced herself not to growl in any direction, and to sit quietly, and concentrate on the smitten male next to her in the backseat. He was so cute, she thought... Just sitting there, the blood rushing up to his face fast beating out the light red color of the hair on top of his head. Just to make him more uncomfortable, Scully reached over, and touched *just* the tips of his fingers. Pendrell noticeably reacted. Enough so that even Mulder reacted to his reaction, but in a more subtle way. A way that only Scully would have been able to gauge. She watched as Mulder's lower lip suddenly sucked itself in, and his grip tightened on the steering wheel. (end part two) "Peanut Butter and Jelly Tastes Awful Over Unrequited Love" (3/3) -Annapolis 15 Theater, 7:11 p.m.- Dinner had gone well. They had decided to go out for seafood at one of the amazing lobster houses that speckled the Annapolis area. They all ordered lobster, and surprisingly enough, everyone seemed enough at ease as soon as the food arrived. Lavery insisted on having Mulder pick apart every piece of her food for her, as if she wasn't able to do anything. Scully rolled her eyes, and tried to enjoy the dinner. She couldn't just stand there and continue to watch Mulder play 'baby' with that damn G-bimbo all night. There had to be a counteraction for this action, she thought. And it was at this exact moment that she remember what had unnerved Mulder so easily in the car... Scully gently tapped Pendrell's foot. Not too hard, but enough to know that something had touched him. He instantly turned to look at her, but she said nothing, simply smiling coyly. Pendrell smiled back nervously, and went back to his lobster. Then, she did it again. This time, Pendrell cleared his throat. "Agent Scully?" he croaked. She laughed, sounding a bit throaty, almost. "Jason... you can call me Dana now that we're off work. You don't have to call me Agent Scully." He nodded meekly while Mulder fumed across the table. How the hell could Pendrell call her Dana all the time, when he was reserved to calling her that only on those... special occasions? Mulder leaned into Lavery, touching her ear with a flick of his tongue. "Call me Fox, Karen..." "Fox..." she whispered. But certainly loud enough that Scully heard it clear across the table. Now it was her turn to completely start fuming. But Scully wasn't about to make a face. There was going to be no visible sign of weakness-- "Dana!" Pendrell said suddenly, his voice all squeak, and no speak. She swallowed, and smiled at Pendrell, who looked like he was just about ready to serve as a coat rack, right there at the table. he thought, relieved that no one could tell. "Enjoying the lobster?" she asked conversationally. "Uhm--" He cleared his throat, coughed, and began again. "Yeah... it's great." Mulder could instantly see exactly was Scully was doing to Pendrell: she was using him, most likely to make Mulder, himself mad. And Mulder might have subtly brought the point up to Lavery, next to him, but it seemed that she was too busy discovering what she could do with her free hand under the tabl-- "Ughm... Karen--" he croaked. She smiled, a truly animal look resting in those turquoise eyes of hers. She did not suffice to stop anything, however. Mulder swallowed, and attempted pushing her hand away. That seemed to make her all the more relentless. "Oh, boy..." he said, coughing to cover up the fact that he, himself, felt that he soon might become spokesperson for America's forests. "This food looks great, doesn't it, Karen?" "Sure does..." she breathed heavily at him. The dinner had basically gone on like that until they had left the restaurant. Mulder quickly had an off-to-the-side conference with Lavery, to let her know that he needed to drive, and to save any moves she had in mind for later. She merely smiled at him, not committing herself either way. Something must have triggered Karen in what Mulder said, however, because she was very well-behaved all the way over to the theater. Now, as they pulled into the parking lot, and got out, Scully realized that they had never decided on anything to see. "Mulder... what did you want to see?" she asked. Funny, Pendrell thought, how Scully instantly addressed her partner; ignoring both Lavery and himself in the party. He knew he certainly wasn't in the position to say anything. One foul comment, and Scully would have his libido on a leash all night. He never understood how one little flicker of a movement could have him drooling like a Pavlov's dog, whereas with anyone else, he wouldn't even look twice. The more annoying thing was that Scully didn't even seem to be truly into the date. The moves that she was making on him seemed spiteful, even. And the fact that he was getting off on them annoyed him more than anything else that he had been thinking about thus far. "I don't know," Mulder replied, breaking Pendrell from his thoughts. "Anyone?" Pendrell smiled for the first time that night, possibly attaining the only evil look Scully had ever seen in his eyes. "I heard that 'Fools Rush In' was a really good movie." Mulder shot him a look. He instantly caught Pendrell's sting. Lavery, however, continually oblivious to the action around her-- besides that of Mulder's jeans-- replied, "Ooh... I really get a kick out of Matthew Perry. He's kind of cute," she cooed. "Oh, yeah, really cute," Scully replied. The exact same tone Mulder had once remembered hearing, "Oh yeah, that'll solve everything..." in. But this time, the recipient wasn't a doctor named Bambi Berenbaum, and Lavery, here before them was even more oblivious than the brunette-haired entomologist had been. Mulder didn't say anything, but led Lavery along up to the building. ***** "Which girl?" "That one." "The one with the body?" "That's *not* why I went out with her!" The more that Scully watched the movie, the more she wanted to start laughing... even at the parts that weren't even funny. The metaphor to their own lives was so true, it was becoming scary. As they were sitting in the theater, it was Pendrell on the end, with Scully next to him, Mulder at her side, and Lavery next to him on his right. She didn't mind the fact that Lavery and him were enjoying a little contact in the dark. Emphasis on the =little.= Every time Scully thought they were getting too annoying-- or so distracting that she couldn't watch the movie anymore, she accidentally found herself elbowing Mulder... or just happening to shift her foot, and crunch his toes. Now, Mulder himself could stand a few isolated incidents... but if she claimed 'muscle spasm' one more time, he was going to scream. "Foooxxx..." He heard a soft whisper in the dark as a small, wet surface made its decent across his neck. He tried not to react, but it was so hard... "Ohhh--" he said, unable to keep the smallest of groans from escaping. "Stop it, Karen," he mouthed through clenched teeth. "You like it," she purred in the dark. "Karen," he said again, warningly. "I really--" She caught him on the lips, at the point where he couldn't react. It was at this exact moment that Mulder suddenly felt something wet... and very cold hit his lap. It was a soda-- Scully had dropped her soda on his lap...! This was the last straw, he thought, pushing Karen off of him. "Dana Katherine Scully!" he hissed loudly at her in the dark. "Shhh!" someone called out from a few rows over. "Quiet!" Mulder lowered his tone of voice. "This has gone on far enough," he said in the best-controlled whisper he could possibly manage. "I refuse to allow you to spill Pepsi on my lap and not say anything about it." "Maybe if you'd keep the activity to the Motel 6, and let the rest of us watch the movie, we wouldn't *have* to resort to this--" Mulder didn't reply, but shoved by Lavery in a huff, and headed out of their theater to get himself dried off. Great, he thought. This wasn't going to look suspicious at *all,* was it? He growled, and headed into the men's room. ***** Scully sighed satisfyingly, and gently touched Pendrell's hand. He boldly reached over, and squeezed her fingers back. he thought. It was a few minutes before Mulder made it back, and much to their amusement, there was a huge dark stain where the Pepsi had spilled. This made Scully even more happy. But the final kicker didn't come in until Mulder sat down... and she noticed-- "Mulder, do you have a license to sell hot dogs?" Mulder crossed his legs once, and turned to her cautiously. "No... why?" "Because you'd better close up the 'open' sign there," she said, motioning to his exposed pants fly. Mulder felt a rush of blood come up to his face as he quickly zipped up the Levi's, his back stiffening in the seat. she thought. -Annapolis, Maryland, 10:13 p.m.- For some reason, Mulder had insisted that they go back to someone's apartment and get something to drink. But, since Mulder never drank anything, they ended up going back to Scully's, because she was the only one with a stocked liquor cabinet. Scully was all and ready to drown herself in something heavy after that night. She pulled out a bottle of Absolut Vodka, and plunked it on the table. "How's anyone for a screwdriver?" she asked. There wasn't much of a response... Lavery was too busy discovering different spots of Mulder's neck that she could leave a hickey on, and Pendrell was sitting in one of Scully's chairs, opposite from where Mulder and Lavery sat. "Uh... I'll pass," he said meekly, sitting uncomfortably. There wasn't much of a response until =Mulder= glanced up, that was. He shot her a look that only the two of them could decipher, and truly understand. "Not tonight, Scully," he said, forcing himself to speak neutrally. "But weren't you and Agent Lavery investigating another realm of that little phenomenon called..." She shook her head. "Uhm... 'the horny beast,' yes, that was it--" Mulder lowered his eyebrows into a stiffened 'V'-shape. How had Scully known about that? He had only said that in front of Detective Whi-- "I'll be drinking up as long as you're up for a smoke, partner. You know how I love getting the smell of cigarette smoke out of my clothes." "Just as much as I like riding shotgun, partner." She poured out a glass over the rocks, and then grabbed a small container of orange juice out of the fridge, mixing some in. She held out the glass. "Drink up. That vitamin C is really good for you." Mulder finally stood up, facing her challenge. It was just then that Lavery finally discovered that Mulder hadn't been taking notice of a single ounce of her actions that entire night. She began to pout, but Mulder kept walking to where Scully held out the glass for him by the dining room table. He accepted it. "One for you, too," he said, nodding. She nodded in return, and poured herself a glass also, with more vodka, and less orange juice. Mulder frowned at what she had done, and looked up at her. "Sorry I had to dilute yours, Mulder. I didn't want to get you drunk on just one drink." "Oh... is *that* the objective here?" "Well, you're no fun when you're sober, obviously." Mulder saw this as further challenge. "What do you want me to be?" "Less of an ass sometimes--" She took a slug of the drink. "Less selfish. More thoughtful..." Another slug. "Have you ever truly thought about what *I* might want to do for once, Mulder?" Another gulp, and the glass was gone. Scully poured another. "Really?" Mulder asked. He took a significantly smaller sip than the ones Scully had been taking. Even so, the liquid burned as it hit his esophagus, and slid down to his stomach. Now he remembered why he hated drinking so much. "You'd be surprised what I think about, Scully." Another sip, this time more painful than the last. "Would I?" "Wouldn't you like to know," Mulder grumbled. "I think I would." Meanwhile, sitting opposite from each other, Agents Karen Lavery, and Jason Pendrell stared across at each other. They had obviously missed something along the way. Pendrell should have known better; he had sensed that something was going on from the beginning... but when Scully had asked him out... Pendrell sighed. Lavery, meanwhile, was pissed off. She had wanted to get some good sex, and now look what had happened to her date... She looked across at Pendrell, and his uncomfortable expression. Well, she thought. One lab nerd was better than nothing at all. She nodded at him, and he seemed to pick up her innuendo. Pendrell stood up, as did Lavery, and linked arms with her outstretched one. The other two FBI agents did not notice as their original dates slinked out the door with one another, and shut it behind them. The war raged on... "X-files don't count, Mulder. I'm talking about =real= thoughts." "So am I." "So what does Dr. Bambi have anything to do with this?" "Just as much as Ed Jerse has to do with this." Scully finished off her second drink, and poured another. "What the hell does Ed Jerse have anything to do with what *you* think about, and how would that relate to *me?*" "You went out with him," he shrugged. "You tell me." "Mulder--" she began, scowling at him. "Nothing happened between me and Ed." She took a sip of the third drink, which had lost any dilution by orange juice at this point. Mulder took his first true slug. It burned like hell. "You slept at his house, Scully." "That was because of the snowstorm, Mulder." She filled Mulder's drink while he had it sitting there. "I didn't =sleep= with him, if that's what you want to know." "I didn't ask." Just then, the two agents instantly remembered that the guests they had brought with them. Both simultaneously turned to find their dates gone. They turned back to each other. "This is all your fault!" they said in perfect unison. The moment couldn't have had a more defined clarity of feeling than it did in those few seconds. They both took sips of their drinks, Scully pouring herself a fourth one, even though she was already feeling dizzy as it was. Mulder, himself, thought he was going to collapse. "Scully..." he said, noticing his words coming out more slowly than they usually did. He hadn't been this drunk since his Oxford years, and under the rule of Queen Phoebe. She set the drink down heavily on the table, causing it to splash a bit. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, her moral center tugged at her, telling her to stop all this childish behavior. But another part of her mind fed on it; asked for more... and laughed maniacally every time Mulder's expression became the slightest bit injured by the perfect flame she could conjure... She, however, found herself to be too torn at the moment to respond to Mulder's plea for repartee. Scully stood there, her mouth hanging slightly open. And Mulder couldn't help but notice how perfectly full her lips were... ...and how were blue eyes reached so deeply, and her porcelain complexion which he just wanted to reach out and touch-- "Oh!" Scully hadn't actually expected him to touch her cheek that way. Just her surprised reaction had caused him to jump back. But as she had been watching his hand come across, and start to reach towards, the part of her brain that measured depth perception must have been seriously affected... because he touched her a lot sooner than she expected him to. Scully considered that thought. Was it possible that she hadn't been expecting; hadn't been =ready= for him to do something like that...? Scully sighed outwardly, unsure of what she was supposed to think. What the hell am I doing to myself? That was when the hand came out again. But when it touched her cheek, she didn't make a sound. And it remained there. Almost as if in careful fascination of the skin against skin contact that was being made. Mulder recalled this quote from Lawrence Durrell. If he were to tell her... would it disappear from himself as well? He couldn't stand the thought of that. For now, just being able to examine her skin was enough. "Mulder," she finally said tiredly. He stroked her cheek down into her chin, touching it between his thumb and two fingers, and then let her go, allowing his hand to drop to the table. He looked up at her, but said nothing. She tried again. "I--" Scully found she couldn't get herself to say anything. Instead, she went over to her front cabinet, and pulled out a blanket from the top shelf. She handed it over to Mulder. "You can take the couch." No more words were exchanged as Scully headed off to her room that night. By the time she woke up that morning, Mulder had already gone, the blanket neatly folded, and back in its place. They had needed no words to apologize for the horrible week that had previously ensued. Once again, their actions spoke louder than words ever would. And as always, Dana Scully was glad. -the end- ============================================== "A stiff apology is a second insult." -G. K. Chesterton ============================================== <> ...the only thing I love more than writing fanfic is getting intelligent (okay, *any*) e-mail about it! Flames will be read, and perhaps extinguished in interesting ways. I was thinking about trying whipped cream. Does this work? -x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x