From: Nina Jakoby Date: Thu, 2 Aug 2001 07:58:59 -0700 (PDT) Subject: Reunion (1/1) by Theta Source: direct Reply To: theta@joshhartnett.com TITLE: Reunion AUTHOR: Theta CLASSIFICATION: Story, Mulder/Scully Romance, and Humor (hopefully). SPOILERS: none RATING: PG-13 (no sex, just some well chosen words) KEYWORDS: MSR SUMMARY: Mulder accompanies Scully to her high school reunion, and things get a little zany. Of course, our favorite agents manage to find a way to wreak havoc-- on each other. ARCHIVE: Please. I would be honored. Drop me a line so I can go visit, too. FEEDBACK: It's very important to me, as this is my very first piece of fanfic ever, and positive/negative feedback could make/break my newest past-time. Drop me a line (or ten) at elana721@joshhartnett.com DISCLAIMERS: Mulder, Scully, and the X-Files do not belong to me, but to Fox, 1013 Productions, and Chris Carter. I use them, not for profit, but for enjoyment, yours and mine. AUTHOR'S NOTES: I know, I know. My fanfic doesn't fit into the show as it stands now (Mulder leaving-- WAHH! sniffle, sniffle. And the baby-- what the hell was CC thinking?). I'm sorry, but for the past year and a half I have been indisposed (as in, living abroad) and have not seen "Requiem" nor anything that comes after that. Frankly, I'm not sure I want to, but that's a different story. This was written just for fun, but it's taken every ounce of courage I have to publish it. Please write to me and tell me what you think-- for real. OK, let's get it on- REUNION THURSDAY, 7.42AM BASEMENT OFFICE "Scully?" Mulder asked as he walked into the office. "You're here early. What's up?" She was leaning against her desk. When he walked in, she looked up at him from a letter and torn envelope she was holding and sighed. "Do you ever feel... too old?" she asked, somewhat cryptically. "Old?" he asked. "Ok, where's this going? Who called you old?" She sighed and set down the letter. She rubbed her eyes with her thumb and index finger, and looked at him, looking somewhat disappointed. "Who's the letter from?" he asked. She picked it up off the desk and handed it to him. "It's a high school reunion invitation." He laughed. "You're feeling old because of a high school reunion? What is this, 10 years, 20 years?" he asked, scanning the letter. "15. That *is* old. I really don't wanna go," said Scully, as she dropped into her seat and closed her eyes. "Then don't. I didn't go to mine." Mulder said, setting aside the letter, and grabbing a stack of reports off her desk. Scully opened one eye. "Have to," she said. Mulder snorted, and flipped another page of the file. "You *have* to? Since when did high school reunions become mandatory?" "Well, I'm excused if I'm dead or chronically ill. but that's it." He dropped the file onto her desk again and reached for the cup of coffee she had brought for him. "Huh?" "They're having a mock graduation. They want all the speakers to speak again." Mulder looked up. "You spoke at your graduation? Really? What for?" "Salutatorian." He choked on the coffee he had been about to swallow. "You were salutatorian at your high school?" "So what?" she said, bitterly. "You were valedictorian, weren't you?" "Class of 92 kids," he shot back. "No, this is news. You were salutatorian?" She made a face. "Valedictorian, actually." "Bring it home, Scully. What do you mean?" He set down his coffee and looked at her expectantly. Scully picked up the letter, and fingered it gently. "There were two of us with the highest GPA. So the class voted. Of course dorky me with few admirers and fewer social graces couldn't compete with Mr. Captain-of-the-football-team-not-to-mention-my-Dad-is-the-sherriff. It was a popularity contest. Of course he won." "How big was your class?" he asked. "478." Once again, he choked on the coffee he had been sipping, and made a mental note not to ask Scully questions about her youth while drinking liquids. The room was quiet for a moment while he digested this imformation. Then.. "You were akward as a teenager?" he asked. "Of course I was," she said impatiently. "Everyone is. What did you do with that file?" He bent to stop her from her fruitless and unfounded search. "Nuh-unh. Don't you change the subject. Who're you going with?" "Who said I'm going?" she asked, struggling against his grip. "You did." Scully gave a huge sigh, and stopped fighting against him. "I don't know. I'll probably just show up dateless and give them the thrill of their lives. They would love to know that Dana Scully ended up friendless, husbandless and lifeless." "Can I come?" She jerked her head up. "Huh?" "Can... I... Come?" This was said exaggeratedly slowly. Scully stared. "You want to be my date? To a high school reunion?" He nodded. "Sure, Mulder, knock yourself out. We leave next Saturday, bright and early at eight thirty. Don't forget to pick me up." She waited for a snide remark or a stuttered defense that it was all in joking, but none came. **************************************** SATURDAY, 8.21 AM SCULLY"S APARTMENT Mulder twirled his keys around on his fourth finger as he got out of the elevator in her building. He hummed a bit as he walked down the hall and knocked on her door. "Come in!!" came from inside. He opened the door, and almost slammed it shut again, truly wondering whether he had the wrong apartment. He didn't. Scully was painting her living room. In it of itself, that was nothing shocking. The paint was tame: a light bluish-gray, very pretty, but it was everything else that shocked Mulder. Scully had pulled her hair into pigtails. She was wearing a floral camisol and matching bikini cut underwear. Her toenails were painted cotton candy pink. And as she wielded the paint roller, she moved her hips slightly to music that blared from the stereo, *NSYNC's "Digital Getdown". "Jesus," Mulder mumbled under his breath. "Scully?" She turned, and looked surprised to see him. "Mulder! What are you doing here?" she asked, hopping off of the stool she had been standing on to reach the higher part of the wall. "Wanna help?" She was suddenly playful and flirty, and poked his nose with her paint-y finger. "Uh, Scully? Reunion?" Mulder asked. She gasped. "Hot damn! The reunion! Oh, damn, Mulder, I forgot all about it! Damnit, damnit, what was I thinking? Oh..." She trailed off, cursing herself, and smacked her palm against her forehead. Mulder laughed. "What?" she asked, her playfulness gone. Now she was cranky and impatient. "You have a blue handprint on your forehead," he told her. She sighed, and handed him the paint roller. "Please hold this, and I'll attempt a superhuman feat and get dressed and pack within ten minutes. Can you take care of the paint?" And she disappeared into the bathroom. ******************************************** 12 MINUTES LATER Scully emerged from her bedroom in boot-cut jeans and a jacket, fluffing her hair, just as Mulder had finished washing the paint roller. "Ready to go?" she asked, shouldering a small duffel bag. He nodded, and they left the apartment. She locked it as they left. "I am *so* sorry about that," she said, as they got into the elevator. "I meant to remember about the reunion. I truly did. I don't usually parade about in clothes like that." "Hey, Scully, I *liked* those undies. And your hair looked cute that way. Hey!!" So said as he ducked to avoid her hand, which made as if to slap him. They got off the elevator. "Let me get my mail," Scully said, and she opened the little box with her key. She grabbed a newspaper and a few letters. Mulder opened the trunk of his car for her, and she tossed her bag in. She looked up at him. "OK. Well, here we go." ************************************************ They were zipping along the highway, the radio playing softly, nothing in particular. Scully unfolded her newspaper to the "PEOPLE" section, to find out what was going on in Hollywood. "Oh," she said suddenly. "How sad." "What's sad?" Mulder asked her, switching lanes. "Frances Bavier died yesterday." "Who?" "Frances Bavier. You know, she played Aunt Bea on "The Andy Griffith Show"." Mulder thought a moment, and then nodded. "Yeah, ok. Hey, isn't that her son who plays ball for Duke? You know, the one with the lumpy head?" Scully cocked her head, musing. "Basketball for Duke... Frances Bavier... lumpy-- oh!" And with her realization, she began to laugh hysterically. "What?" Mulder wondered what he had said. She gasped with laughter. "That's *Shane Battier*! You know, 'Who's-Your-Daddy-Battier'. Oh, Jesus. Mulder, Shane Battier is black, and Frances Bavier was white, and supposedly pretty racist. She is *NOT* his mother." "Oh." Mulder now realized the hilarity, and laughed as well. Still shaking her head, Scully folded up her newspaper and rolled down her window. Then, as a new song came on the radio, she turned up the volume, singing along. "Because I'm free Single, sexy, and sweet." It was sort of R-and-B, and it sounded good in her confident alto voice. Scully looked up at Mulder to find him staring at her. "What?" "Well, I wasn't under the impression you *liked* R-and-B," he covered quickly. "It's a *good* song, Mulder. Called "Free". It's by Mya. I really like it." Mulder shook his head. "Wow, Scully. I learn more about you every day. You paint your living room in your undies, you read the Hollywood column, and you sing R-and-B and songs about phone sex in your free time." He ducked again, just missing her flying hand. *************************************************** 3.27 PM, A MOTEL, OUTSIDE RICHMOND VA Mulder pulled up in front of the motel. They got their stuff out of the trunk, and headed to the front desk. "Hi, there. Can I help you?" asked the friendly receptionist. "Yeah. We'd like two rooms, please. With bathrooms." Scully was all business. "Here for the reunion?" asked the receptionist politely as she entered this information into her computer to search. Scully nodded. "Here we go. Two rooms. They have an adjoining door, and they share a bath, is that all right?" "That's fine," Mulder spoke up, taking the keys from her. Scully gave him a look. "Well, it is. We're hardly on Bureau time," he rebuked. Their rooms were on the seventh floor. They rode the elevator in silence. When they got to their rooms, Scully took one of the keys from Mulder. She checked her watch. "It is now a quarter of four. We will leave in exactly three hours. See you." And she disappeared into her room. *What the hell is bothering her?* he wondered, unlocking his door. He dropped his bag on the bed, and looked around. He spied the connecting door, and was about to open it, when he heard muffled crying from the other side. *Damn* he thought. *Is she crying?* He listened carefully. Definitely crying. Now he had a dilema. Leave her alone, or find out what the problem was? Mulder had never been passive. He knocked on the door, but didn't wait for her answer, just walked right in. "Scully? What's wrong?" She was cowering in the corner, her eyes red and puffy. "I'm fine, damnit," she managed to croak out. "I didn't ask if you were fine. I asked what the matter was. So let's have it. I learned in my psychology classes that only hormone-crazed teenagers cry for no reason." For some reason, she found that funny, and she laughed a little through the still-streaming tears. "What?" "Hormone-crazed teenagers," she hiccuped, somewhere between tears and laughter. "How appropriate." "Scully, this is like pulling teeth. What is bothering you?" he demanded. She sighed. "You're gonna think poorly of me when I tell you." "Scully!!" *Jesus* he thought. *Well, at least she said when I tell you, not if I tell you*. "I feel like an insecure teenager again. Did you see all those people in the lobby?" Mulder hadn't. "I went to school with them. They all look happy and successful, with husbands and wives and children and nine-to-five jobs. They're gonna rub it in my face tonight. Oh god.." She trailed off, and buried her face in her hands and knees. Mulder stared at her. "You're jealous of your classmates?" Then he mentally slapped himself. "Of course you are. Scully, I am *so* sorry that you don't have that American dream family with a successful husband and 2.3 kids and a dream job. Or no job. Stay home with the kids, help them with their homework, eat ice-cream with them..." He babbled incessantly, trying to voice what he supposed were her regrets. She looked up at him. "Jealous? No. I love my life." His jaw dropped. "I love working on the X-Files with you. It's exciting, it's noble, I have a gun and a badge-- Mulder, that's the life I chose. It has cost a lot, and I have paid dearly, but I wouldn't switch even if I could." "Well, then... what? Why were you...?" She smiled. "Crying? It's because although my life makes me happy, it's not something anyone else could understand. They-" here she gestured towards downstairs "-will think that I got thrust into this life, that it chose me, not the other way around. That I couldn't have what they have, so I settled for second best. They won't get it. My mother doesn't get it, my brother doesn't get it, my father didn't get it.." She stared at her palms. "I get it," said Mulder softly. "Because I chose this life, too." She looked at him. And smiled. "Scully, you're a big girl, now. It doesn't matter what *they* think. All that matters is you. If you're happy, they don't mean shit. You're not in high school anymore. Real life is when the tables turn. They can't control just because they used to be popular. They can't dictate what your life should be like. Let go. Just be Scully." And then, despite the tears drying on her face, she smiled. Not just a tight-mouthed reassurance. A full-lipped, teeth-showing, true Scullygrin. "Thanks, Mulder," she murmured. "No problem." He nuzzled her neck. "Let's watch a movie on pay-per-view. It can even be one of those chick flicks you like so much." She smacked him playfully. "I don't like men who refer to women by animal names. Let's watch a true big-guns-explosion-no-plot action movie." "OK, kitten," he teased. Then ducked. *********************************************** 6.12 "No, you idiot. It's a trap!" Scully yelled at the tv screen. She tossed some popcorn at the man as he raced across the countryside. Mulder put his hand on her knee. "Koala Bear, you're rooting for the bad guy." "Koala Bear?" "Well, I've run out of other cute, cuddly animal names to call you. It seemed like a natural choice." She rolled her eyes, and caught a glimpse of the clock. "Oh damn! It's already quarter after six. We gotta get dressed." She stood up. "Go. Get some clothes on. It's a casual affair. We're leaving soon." "But, Scully, the movie.." he whined. "We'll watch it later. It's on the all-day-ticket. Hopefully the reunion won't last long." Reluctantly, he went to his room to change. He had brought clean jeans, a white muscle t-shirt, and his leather jacket. He thought about actually combing his hair, but nixed the idea, and just smoothed it with his fingers. He shaved, and put on his shoes, and was about to open the door, when it opened in to his face. It was Scully. When they saw each other, they began to laugh. Sometimes he could swear they had ESP. Not only had Scully opened the door at the same time as he had, but she also wore her boot-cut jeans, a thin, white t-shirt, and a leather jacket. "Well, at least people will know we belong together," Mulder quipped. Scully sighed good-naturedly, and they joined hands and left. ************************************************* 7.19 THOMAS JEFFERSON SENIOR HIGH SCHOOL "Mulder, stop the car. Stop the car!!" Scully said suddenly. Mulder slammed on the brakes as requested. The car jerked forward roughly as it ground to a halt. "Scully, what is it? What's wrong?" Mulder was instanly concerned. "I can't do this. I can't do this!! Just turn the car around, and let's leave." Mulder breathed in relief. An emotional breakdown. No life-threatening situations. "Scully, remember? They're nothing. They don't matter. Only you matter. Remember?" Scully closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the head rest. She took a deep breath, and released it. Then she opened her eyes and looked at Mulder. "You're right. Mulder, I'm sorry that my behavior has been erratic and immature. It's nerves. No it's not. It's.... I don't know what it is. It doesn't matter. Let's get this show on the road." She got out of the car, and shut the door firmly. Mulder pocketed the keys and followed suit. He took her hand and they headed for the main entrance. She stopped halfway there. "Mulder?" "What?" "Let's try and be... *somewhat* normal. OK?" He grinned. "But, of course, Scully. We *are* normal." "Whatever." The woman seated at the table greeted them. "Hello. You'll need name tags. Did both of you go to school here?" She rifled through a stack of pre-printed name-tags. "Uh-- no. Only me. I'm Dana Scully, and this is Fox Mulder." The woman looked up. "Dana Scully? You're speaking tonight, right?" Scully nodded. "Salutatorian." "The speakers need to meet at the podium at ten 'til eight. Your original speech was videotaped and transcribed, so you'll just be giving it again. Mr. Sorrells will tell you all you need to know." Scully took her name tag, and Mulder followed her into the entrance hall. She whistled softly. "Wow, they really fixed this place up. It used to be pretty inner-city ghetto. It's nice now." She looked around appreciatively. "Why, *Dana*. How nice to see you." Mulder watched as Scully's eyes widened, and she swallowed nervously. *She must recognize the voice* he thought, as she turned around to greet the sugar-y voiced woman. Scully paused a second before greeting the woman. "Thea Broderick. It's been a long time. How do you find yourself?" The taller woman tossed her dark hair over her shoulder. "It's Thea Hunter now, hon." She brandished her left hand, the fourth finger now adorned with a gold ring, set with a large diamond. "And I'm doing just fine. What about yourself?" Her dark eyes scanned Scully quickly, searching for clues about her new life. "Very well." Scully nodded. Her blue eyes looked scared, and she seemed to be shrinking. "Who's your gentleman friend?" Thea let her eyes run over Mulder, who felt invaded by her blatant show of 'checking out'. He nevertheless extended his hand politely. "I'm Fox Mulder, Dana's--" "-- husband." Scully finished quickly. Thea and Mulder stared at her. She seemed to have regained her confidence, and she smiled sweetly. "We've been together close to six years, right honey?" Mulder winced as she poked him. "You bet, baby bear." He decided to play along, and squeezed her shoulder. Thea was still looking shell-shocked. She collected herself and asked "Any kids?" "No," said Scully. "But don't you worry. Our family will be expanding soon." These cryptic words shook Thea, who excused herself quickly. Mulder turned to Scully. "Your *husband*?" Scully ducked her head guiltily. "Sorry, I don't know what got into me. Can't we just play for one night?" "I guess I can forgive you since it was only a little white lie. OK, flying squirrel, we're married tonight," Mulder teased, trying to imagine being married to Scully. "Enough with the little animal names." "Dana! Oh, Day-nah!" called a singsong voice. Scully turned. "Georgia Cascio," she acknowledged. This woman had obviously-dyed platinum hair (the roots showed) and false eyelashes. She looked like a spokesperson for a crash diet, trying too hard to be attractive. "Oh, Dana!" Georgia planted an airkiss on each of Scully's cheeks, European style. Scully recieved them stiffly. "Dana, Thea says that you've gone and gotten yourself married. Is this the *lucky* man?" She stared at Mulder, obviously liking what she saw. Scully nodded. Mulder shifted uncomfortably. "Ah, Scully, I think I'll go get us some drinks," he said. She nodded, and he left. Georgia looked curious. "Why does he call you 'Scully'?" Scully smiled. "Mulder and I work together. We call each other by last names out of habit." Georgia was still looking for a flaw. "You don't wear a wedding ring, Dana." "Neither does Mulder. I'm a doctor, and I don't want it to get lost. Mulder thinks it doesn't look manly. But we don't need rings. Although I see you do," Scully said, and she picked up the woman's left hand, which also bore a guady ring. Georgia smiled fakely. "Yes, this is Nigel Loring," she said, pulling forth a man who made Scully think of Frohike. "Nigel, baby, this is Dana Scully. We went to school together." Nigel nodded nervously. Scully excused herself quickly, and found Mulder. "Jesus," he said, handing her a drink "no wonder you didn't want to come. These people are the epitome of shallowness and vapidity." Scully laughed. "*I* had to go to school with them." Mulder grinned. "Hey, you know, there are a bunch of enlarged pictures from the yearbook on the table over there. I wanna go find yours. C'mon, let's go!" He grabbed her wrist, and pulled her toward the table. She protested. "Mulder, I *don't* need to see a picture of myself in high school and dredge up more memories than Thea and Georgia already have." He ignored her, and arrived at the table. It was covered in black-and-white head shots, pulled from the 1982 annual. Mulder sifted through the pictures quickly, and pulled out Scully's. She covered her face. "Oh, god." He looked from her to the picture, and smiled. The younger Scully had longer hair, a few inches past her shoulders, and girly, less-defined features. But the eyes were the same, and the smile was the same. And the necklace. The girl in the picture wore Scully's chain and cross. Mulder read from underneath the picture. "Dana Scully, salutatorian. National Honor Society, Key Club, French Club, Softball Team--" He looked up. "Softball team? You played on the softball team?" She nodded. He put his hands on his hips in mock anger. "Why Dana Katherine. I distinctly remember you telling me that you had 'found better things to do with your time than smack a piece of horsehide with a stick.' Correct me if I'm wrong." She leaned closer to him. "I guess I was just looking for an excuse to put my ass in your groin. It was only a little white lie, and look what it got me." She raised her eyebrows seductively. "So, *Mrs. Mulder*, which position did you play?" Mulder asked. Their faces were almost touching. Scully smiled. "You tell me, Oxford man. Your position in baseball is supposed to be reflective of your personality. So, whaddya think?" Mulder smiled. "Easy. You threw well enough to be the pitcher, but you didn't especially like the fact that the outcome of the game, win or loss, was attributed solely to the pitcher. So, you didn't pitch. Second base gets little action; you didn't play there, either. Maybe they put you in left field in the beginning, but you didn't stay there long, because you were too good. You didn't play center field, because you could throw better than you could catch, the same reason you weren't the pitcher. Also, I don't imagine you like to squat very much- how unScully-like. So, you were third baseman. Or shortstop." Mulder waggled *his* eyebrows at her. Scully leaned even closer. And smiled. "Try a little harder, Agent Mulder. First base." He rested his forehead against hers. Their noses brushed against one another. "Aha. An important, but little thought-of position. Of course." He wanted desperately to close the final centimeters between them. "Dana?" It was a soft man's voice. Scully whirled around, and Mulder cursed silently. They had been so close! "Aidan!" She sounded genuinely pleased to see the tall, thin man with shaggy dark hair who was standing beside her. He smiled at her enthusiasim. "You didn't want to come either," he guessed. She grinned. "Who dragged you?" he asked. She nodded toward Mulder. "My husband did. Well, actually, it was the committee. Salutatorian has to speak again." Mulder stepped forward and shook the man's hand. "You two were friends in high school?" he asked. Scully answered first. "We dated, actually." Upon seeing Mulder's face, she giggled slightly. "Don't worry, babe, it's nothing anymore." Aidan put on a hurt face, but laughed quickly. "This is my wife," he said, pulling forward a woman about Scully's size, with deer-like brown eyes and sleek dark hair, almost black. "Dana, this is Roselle." They smiled at each other. The *couples* chatted easily for a few minutes, then Mulder said to Scully "Uh, Bunny Rabbit? It's almost time for you to give your speech." They said goodbye and headed for the podium. "Bunny Rabbit?" she asked in a voice she hoped was threatening. "Teddy bear?" he tried. She sighed. "Aahh, Dana Scully, the *forgotten* valedictorian." Mulder could have sworn that every single muscle in Scully's body tensed at the sound of the man's voice. She regained her composure and turned. "Ridley Kelbin," she said. Her voice was emotionless. The man was gorgeous. Perfectly muscled, with hair the color of sun-ripened wheat, but slightly curly, and cropped short. His eyes were like chocolate. His mouth and nose fit his face perfectly. He was nicely dressed, but not over-dressed. *This must be the *real* valedictorian* Mulder thought. "Dana Scully," he returned. His eye caught Mulder. "Is this your big brother Billy, come to escort you to your reunion?" Mulder hated the way the man condescended Scully. "I'm Fox Mulder. Her husband." He leaned forward to shake the man's hand, making sure his jacket gaped to reveal his holster and gun. It did. Ridley recoiled, realizing that Mulder was packing heat. "Police officer?" he asked, shaken. Scully pulled out her ID, and Mulder followed suit. "We're FBI agents," she told him, and Mulder couldn't help but hear a note of smugness in her voice. "Dana and Ridley! How nice to see you both here," spoke a fat, jolly looking man, who reminded Mulder of Santa Claus sans the red suit. "I have transcribed your speeches from the videotape of the graduation. Here they are. Just give them again," he told them, handing each one a paper. "Marty Sorrells," he said, shaking Mulder's hand. "Pleasure to meet you. I really must run." And he ran (well, waddled) off. Mulder squeezed Scully's hand and joined the rest of the class and their guests while she and Ridley spoke. Her speech was short, but touching and too the point. While the valedictorian gives the standard, so-called 'commencement' speech which looks toward the future, the salutatorian is often asked to recall pleasant moments with the class and sum them up eloquently. Scully did so admirably, and recieved applause from the class, which seemed to have matured since she had last given her speech, and appreciated it appropriately. "How'd I do?" she whispered to Mulder, after the class of 1982 had been pronounced "re-graduated", and there had been much cap-tossing and hoopla. "Just great, chinchilla," he told her. She smiled. "I showed them, huh?" "You sure did." Scully grew quiet for a moment. Then she looked up at Mulder. "Well, I was thinking that since we *are* married, and all, we should probably, you know, *dance*." Mulder hadn't even realized that music had begun playing. "May I have the honor?" he asked grandly. She smiled coyly. "Well, I suppose." He lead her to the dance floor. It was eigties music playing, remniscient of high school days. They were joined by many others. After all, a class of 478 and their dates makes quite an entourage. "Uh, Scully? You're leading," Mulder informed her. "Damnit!" She cursed. Then she looked up. "I'm sorry." He didn't know whether she was apologizing for leading or for cursing, but it didn't matter. "Missy taught me to dance, but she always made me dance the *guy's* part. I could never kick the habit." "No, I like it. I think it's reflective of our relationship. Ow!" So said playfully because she had kicked him playfully. The later it became, the slower the music grew. Finally, the couples left on the dance floor were only drifting in each others arms. Scully rested her head gently on Mulder's shoulder. "Scully?" he murmured into her ear. She didn't even open her eyes. "Hmm?" she murmured back. "Since we're married, don't I at least deserve a kiss?" he asked, hopefully. She lifted her head to look at him. "Hmm. I guess so," she whispered, her voice soft and low and sultry. He looked straight at her to make sure she meant it, and then leaned down to kiss her. She strained up to meet him, and their lips met in a sweet kiss of desire and happiness. When they broke away, Scully put her head back on Mulder's shoulder. "Thanks for helping me out tonight. I owe you big time." He sighed happily. "Hey, Scully?" he asked. "Hey, what?" she barely murmured. "I can't wait 'til our honeymoon tonight!" STOMP! She stepped hard on his foot. "Ow. Sorry, I meant 'til your next reunion." Fin ****************************************************** To Remember: *Mulder choking on coffee while learning Scully was salutatorian. *Cotton Candy pink toenails. *Scully painting her living-room in her underwear. *"Digital Getdown" ANYWHERE in the vicinity of the XF characters. *Mulder wondering whether Frances Bavier and Shane Battier are related. *Scully singing Mya's "Free". *NOT having to share a motel room in an MSR fanfic *Watching a pay-per-view action movie and throwing popcorn at the screen. *Wearing the same outfit. *Furry animal names. *Trying to be normal. *Pretending to be married. *Mulder psychoanalyzing Scully to detirmine her position in softball. *Scully leading while she and Mulder dance.