From: paperheart@webtv.net (Anna Chait) Date: Thu, 30 Oct 1997 19:14:02 -0800 Subject: Sweet Dreams, Mulder (1/1) Title: Sweet Dreams, Mulder (1/1) Anna Chait paperheart@webtv.net rating; pg-13, very tame Category: V, R, H No spoilers Keywords: Halloween Summary: Mulder intentionally loses a bet with Scully? What does he lose? He attends a costume ball at a haunted mansion. Mulder as Gomez Addams? It could happen! Archive anywhere. Please forward to ATXC. Note: I entered this story in the SPCDD Halloween Short 'n Spooky contest, and to my amazement I won second place! 13 October 1997 *************************** Sweet Dreams, Mulder by Anna Chait *************************** He's wrong and he knows he's wrong and he's just arguing now hoping to get my goat, and it ain't gonna happen. We've driven by this exit four hundred times and I know what it is. "Fine, Mulder. Put your money where your mouth is." It was his turn to raise his brows. "You mean like cold hard cash? Come on, Scully. You know I never have any money." She rolled her eyes and looked away. "I know. I'm starting to think maybe you're supporting a secret family somewhere. Or maybe you've run up a serious bill on 900 numbers, hmmm, Mulder?" He smiled. He'd phoned a few 900 ladies in his day. But not lately. He didn't have to. All he had to do was close his eyes and conjure up one of the many fantasies he'd been able to construct about his partner. Sometimes when they were sitting in the office his mind would wander and he'd dream up the most amazing things. They'd be writing case files or working up expense vouchers and his brain would shift gears, do a quick little about face and he'd be thinking about Scully in black lace underwear, or he'd see her on the beach in some incredible bathing suit. And then she'd catch him staring, and he'd have to clear his mental etch-a-sketch and return to their basement office. Once or twice in the past couple of weeks he'd come to an embarrassing state for a grown man and had to excuse himself. They'd worked together for a long time. Why is it that it's only now that this has come up, no pun intended. Perhaps a mid-life crisis? Can a man have a mid-life crisis at the age of 36? Perhaps it's just been too long. Get a grip, Mulder. She's not interested...I don't think she is anyway. "Mulderrrrrr....!" she snapped at him. "You're doing it again, staring off into space." She was getting impatient with this zoning out thing he was doing. If there was something on his mind, she wished he would just say it. "Sorry, Scully. What were you saying?" "Okay, let's forget about money. If I'm right about this, you have to go with me to the Halloween Ball at the Arlington Mansion." She really wanted to go to this Ball. She'd mentioned it to him before, hoping to get him to go with her. She'd heard a lot about the old anti-bellum home, it had been featured many times in the home section of the Sunday Post. Strange things had been known to happen in the mansion. But each time she'd brought it up, he cleverly sidestepped an answer and she didn't press. She certainly didn't want him to think she couldn't get a date but she really wanted to go with him. He was a lot of fun to be with, and there was a certain cosmic rightness about going to a Halloween Ball at a haunted mansion with "spooky" Mulder. And just maybe she could get him to see the possibilities between them. He watched her warily. She was smirking at him, waiting for him to accept the terms of the bet. He quickly weighed his options. He knew she was right. If he bet with her, he'd lose. The worst case scenario had him in some dorky costume, but spending an evening dancing with Scully. Which would be fine by him. What would she be wearing? Think quickly, man. She might wear something equally dorky, like a prison uniform or a witch's outfit. Or... she might show up in something close to black lace underwear. Either way, it might be fun. They deserved a little fun in their lives. "Okay, Scully. You're on. It's a deal. But if I win, what do I get?" She turned her eyes up to him and batted her lashes slowly, just once. "Your call, Mulder. What do you want?" If you only knew, Agent Scully. So many things. But for now....."You do the expense vouchers for the next three cases?" "It's a done deal, Mulder." She agreed, but wondered why that had been so easy and how come the loaded innuendo she'd tossed at him had been ignored. Odd. ******************************* She slept late, preferring to stay in bed and read. Because her life was one constant murder mystery, she preferred not to read them. She usually leaned in the direction of biographies, or history. There were even some medical journals that she could read if she were so inclined. But this weekend she was enmeshed in a romance. A lusty story set in New Orleans. Because of the lack of romance in her own life, she assumed. It wasn't as if she hadn't tried. She did, regularly. But the men she went out with just weren't.....what? Weren't what, Dana, she thought. And why did all the men in these romance novels take on the image of Fox Mulder in her mind? Why couldn't she get him out of her thoughts? Face it, Dr. Scully. Fox Mulder is exactly the kind of man you'd pursue if he wasn't your partner. He's interesting, funny, brilliant, witty and handsome as hell. But he is your partner. She really did think she was over this. What if you did date him, she asked herself for the thousandth time. What would be the worst thing that could happen? She wasn't even sure. Conversely, what if they fell in love? What would it be like to be loved by Mulder? Just thinking about made her heart beat faster. So what's holding you up? Again, she wasn't sure. ****************************** His doorbell was ringing insistently. Whoever it was they were doing that on purpose and he wished they would stop. Patrick Ewing was charging for a nifty lay-up. "All right, all right......I'm coming." He yelled at the door before yanking it open to find his partner. "Scully!" She had always found it cute that when he was surprised, his voice cracked, just a little, taking some of the polish off his usually pulled together demeanor. She had that Cheshire-cat grin on, that little half-smile that showed no teeth. To bad, she had a great smile. But this as that face that said, I've got the upper hand now Mulder, and I'm going to milk it for all it's worth. "Is something wrong?" he asked, pulling her into his apartment and closing the door behind her. "No, nothing's wrong." She walked ahead of him into his living room and sat on the edge of his desk. She waited while he picked up the remote control and lowered the sound on the basketball game. Pre-season Knicks, naturally. He looked at her, trying to figure out what was going on. "Okay, ....can I get you some coffee?" "Nope. I just came by to give you this video." He took the case from her hand. "The Addams Family? Somehow I figured you more for the Sense and Sensibility type." She laughed, and shook her head. He noticed how the sunlight through the blinds caught her hair causing it to glow around her face. "No. It's your costume. I thought you might need some time to get your part together. I've got mine and I thought it would be interesting if you went as...." "Gomez Addams?" his asked, his voice cracking again. "Yeah. Nothing too hard about that, is there? He wore a smoking jacket most of the time. Think you can manage it?" He smiled wickedly at her. "Oh, don't tell me. You found a Morticia costume." She folded her arms across her chest and looked at the floor before raising her gaze to meet his. Her smile said he'd have to wait and see. *********************** It took him about a week to pull the pieces of his costume together. He watched the video she'd given him and made a few notes. The costume would be a cinch, but the charade....ah, that was another matter. Gomez Addams was a suave, smooth Latin-lover type. Mulder was...not. Gomez was an accomplished dancer. Mulder was an okay dancer, but just in case when he returned the Addams Family to the video store, he took out a tape on the tango. He could handle a foxtrot and a waltz thanks to his Boston bred mother; slow dancing was easy, but the tango was a whole different ball game. After a few hours practice he had the basic moves down, thinking he'd surprise his partner with his dancing abilities. She pestered him during the week about his costume, checking up on him, making sure that he was working on it. It amused him how much attention she was giving this. "Don't trust me, Scully?" She looked at him and chewed her lip nervously. "Well, I trust you to back me up in a shoot-out, but in a social situation....I'm not going to look foolish, am I, Mulder?" she asked, a little worried. He wouldn't want her to feel out of place. He wouldn't want her to be anything but completely comfortable with him. He smiled at her and shook his head. She always had to have something to worry about. "I've been testing my phony mustache out all week, and my smoking jacket is at the cleaners being altered even as we speak. All right? What I want to know is what you've got? Something black and sexy?" He ended that question with a wink. She hadn't exactly been sure he would come through on this one. She could even see him bailing out at the last moment. But if he said it was all right, then it was. When she began this, the only thing that was on her mind was that haunted mansion and the Ball. Now, it was Mulder. A real date with Fox Mulder. It posed some interesting questions about the limits of their partnership. ******************************* She stood in front of the mirror and inspected the results of two hours of work. Starring back at her was Morticia Addams. With red hair. The wig was long, about to her elbows and blended with her own hair to look very realistic. Her makeup was perfect, giving her skin just the right paleness to look like a spook. The dress was the thing, though. Mulder would probably jump out of his shoes. The lace covered black satin plunged deep in the front and molded her body right down to her knees, where it flared out a bit to allow for walking. She wore three inch heels and had painted her nails a vivid red to match the lipstick. Black and sexy indeed! Maybe it's too much. Too late, she thought as the doorbell rang. She took a deep breath and opened the door. They stood staring at each other for a minute or so. Dana was sure she'd seen his nostrils flare. "Come out of the hall Mulder. The neighbors will start to talk." Without speaking he stepped in and closed the door behind him. "I was looking for Dana Scully?" She laughed. "Okay, Mulder." >From behind his back he produced a black rose. "I brought this for you. I thought it was appropriate." It was, and not easy to find. "Thanks." "So, what do you think?" he held his arms out from his sides, inviting her inspection. He did look great, but he usually did. Clothes liked him, he looked good in everything from sweats to expensive suits and silk ties. Tonight he wore black trousers and a deep wine-colored velveteen smoking jacket with black satin lapels, double breasted, of course. He looked best in double breasted. It was complemented with a black shirt, black tie and a really beautiful black satin brocaded vest. His hair was parted and slicked back in waves. And he wore a pencil thin mustache, just like Raul Julia did in the video. She was pleased, and let him know it with her smile. "Very dashing, Mulder." She said with a happy nod of approval. He gave a slight bob of his head and a mock bow, accepting her praise, then returned the compliment. "And you, you look-" he paused, and leaned forward to whisper conspiratorially. "Hot, Scully. Very hot." She blushed, she actually blushed. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen her blush. "Thank you. Now, let's get going, handsome. I've always wanted to see the mansion. It's supposed to be haunted you know." He stuck out his arm, offering it to her. "Cara Mia?" She giggled and picked up her wrap and purse. He had studied that video. She took his arm and allowed him to lead her to the car. ************************** The Arlington Mansion sat at the top of a hill, imposing, and living up to it's reputation. The twenty acre property was completely enclosed by a 15 foot black iron rail fence. Large gates were attached to stone posts with evil looking gargoyles guarding the entrance. This evening the gates and the circular drive to the house were lit by lanterns to guide the way of the guests and begin to create an appropriate ambiance for a "haunted" mansion. A valet took his car and he followed behind Dana. Massive dark wooden doors stood open to receive the revelers. Tall men dressed as the angel of death stood on either side of the entrance asking for invitations. Once inside Mulder recognized senators and congressmen. He was glad he'd paid attention to his costume. Everyone wore something elaborate. He and Scully made quite an impression entering together. As they waited to be announced, he leaned forward and whispered in her ear. "Just how did you get an invitation to this gig anyway?" "I know some people." She said, hoping to impress him with her connections. Unfortunately, he was aware of just who her connections were, and were not. She confessed reluctantly. "I bid on these tickets at a charity auction." They were announced and they entered the main salon which was currently being used as a ballroom. The furniture had been cleared to encourage dancing. Large candelabra sat around the room, providing the only illumination. Somewhere close an orchestra was playing a waltz. "Well, Scully? Did you come to dance or snoop?" She crossed her arms and assumed her Morticia posture, which in truth was not far from a stance Scully frequently took. "Snoop first, then dance. Unless you'd rather not. And you know, maybe there's something here we need to investigate. The place is supposed to be haunted, you know." "No, I'm along for the ride here. And unless a crime is committed, I am just a guest. Besides, I left my gun at home." They moved through the beautiful rooms of the house, rooms that Scully had seen photographed for Architectural Digest. Some of the rooms were closed off this evening. The mansion was decorated as it would have looked shortly before the civil war. "You know, it's said that a soldier from the civil war haunts this place. He died before he could declare his love for the owners daughter. Now they say his ghost roams the hallways looking for her even though she's been dead a hundred years." Scully had been providing a running commentary on the house as they explored. Finally, Mulder had had enough of the house tour and suggested food as a diversion. The buffet was an epicurean wonder. Bowls of fresh fruit, platters of meats and fish, cheese, breads of every description. A separate table held the desserts, large cakes and plates filled with small fruit tarts and chocolates. Wine and champagne flowed freely from fountains at either end of the table. After they'd grazed their way through the room, they went onto the balcony. "This house is something else. How did you find out about this Scully?" "Don't you ever read anything beside the sports page?" She was standing at the edge of the balcony that stretched the entire length of the house. Beyond, illuminated by the full moon, the lawn sloped down perhaps one hundred yards to the river. "Actually, I do. But I never heard about this." Had it been her imagination, or had she heard a trace of hurt feelings in his voice. "Of course you do....I didn't mean....." He put his wine glass down and went to stand in front of her. "I have a suggestion. For tonight, let's put Scully and Mulder aside. Forget about those two people who have all those preconceived notions about the boundaries of partnership. Just for tonight let's be Dana and Fox." "Meaning what, exactly?" He turned his head away, briefly. "Well, for starters, would you like to dance? I've been practicing my fox trot all week." His gaze returned to hers and she was moved by the earnestness of his request. He had certainly fulfilled his part of their bargain. He was holding out his arms to her in invitation. "Certainly, Fox." She stepped into his arms slowly. One hand curled around her waist causing a very pleasant tingling. He'd touched her before, but there were always several layers of clothing separating his flesh from hers. Now it was only a thin layer of satin between his fingers and the skin of her back and it was a most delightful sensation. He waited while her hand found it's way into his, and he gently closed his fingers around hers. Swaying tentatively to gain the rhythm of the music, he stepped out and she followed. He gradually danced her into the ballroom where they easily mixed with the crowd. "Well, Miss Scully, you are an accomplished dancer." "Why thank you, Mr. Mulder. You're not so bad yourself. Natural talent, or did you mother make you take lessons?" "Both, actually." The next dance was a waltz, and Scully had to sit that one out. The dress she wore had it's limitations. But Mulder was having fun and managed to find a partner. Who knew he was such a fine dancer? She watched him from the steps to the second floor, a little jealous of the woman in his arms. He was really an attractive man, and when he chose to be, most charming. But the thing she liked most about him was how he managed to be comfortable in almost every situation. She wasn't sure if that was because of his lack of ego, or his lack of pretense. He had no pretensions. He was what you saw. An attractive man with a high stress job, a bit sad sometimes, but always questioning everything. Completely open to extreme possibilities. Annoyingly so, sometimes. And whoever this woman was, she was making him laugh. When the dance was finished he politely thanked his partner and went looking for Dana. She was standing at the top of the stairs, her arms folded over her chest, looking down her nose at him. Over he shoulder, he noticed a portrait. Hung just at the top of the stairs, a massive portrait of a woman in what he assumed was pre-civil war dress. And just for a moment this woman bore a striking resemble to Dana Scully. It was the eyes. The same icy, crystal blue. Clear, like a mountain lake under the blue sky. And the pouty mouth. Just like Scully. When he looked back, he saw that face transposed over Scully's. He ran his hand over his eyes, assuming he'd had too much champagne. But now he saw the whole figure of the woman from the portrait standing at the top of the stairs, and damn, if it wasn't Dana Scully in a hooped skirt. The orchestra started up again and he heard the beginnings of a tango and smiled. When he looked back to her on the stairs, it was Scully again, dressed in black from head to foot, smiling down at him, daring him. For a moment his mind returned to the woman in the portrait. But the tango beckoned. He knew that she knew what he was thinking. He held out his hand in invitation. "You up to this?" "Yes. I asked them to play the tango." "Oh, really?" she said, taking his hand. "Si, si, cara mia." He quickly twirled her into his arms, leaving her back pressed very close to his, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist. He leaned forward and breathed into her ear again, "Cara mia." She allowed herself to be spun out, then stepped forward to assume the first position of the tango which brought their bodies together touching from chest to knee, with Dana poised on tip-toe. In this position she was forced to look directly into his eyes and responded, her breath covering his neck like a fine mist. "Mon savage." He smiled at her, an evil glint in his eye. She wanted to play and he was game. "That's French. You know what that does to me." "Show me." That say that the tango is as close as you can get to making love, vertically. It is a sensual dance, a dance of passion. For Fox and Dana, the crowd disappeared and the lights went out. They danced as though they were the only ones in the room, danced this most seductive dance together as though they had been dancing together for years. It seemed as if someone else inhabited his body. Perhaps it was the spirit of the soldier who was reported to roam the halls of the mansion looking for his lost love. When it was over, the light and the people reappeared in the room. Mulder still held her in his arms, a little breathless. Their eyes locked and held and for just a moment a connection was made, deeper and more binding than anything either had ever felt. Their souls seemed to take stock of each other, the walls were dismantled and defenses dropped, and without thinking Mulder leaned forward and kissed his partner. Not anything overly aggressive, just a light meeting of lips, a brief touch and press, then away, leaving them both a little stunned. "I think...maybe we should go now, Mulder." She said, trying her best to look away. Mulder would not be dissuaded, however. "No, one more dance I think." He waited for her to argue and when she didn't, he took her in his arms again. This was a slow dance. For a while they just danced, close together, bodies meeting and swaying slowly together, staring deeply into each others eyes. Then, because he felt as if his heart had just opened up after a long, long, time, Fox Mulder smiled. A very sweet smile spread across his handsome face and demanded the same of her. She returned his smile gladly, and then leaned into his body, resting her cheek on his shoulder while he held her tighter and continued to dance. Something changed that night. What had started out as just a bet and possibly a fun party had turned a little more serious. When he took her home, he wondered where they would go from here. He wondered if they had the courage to pursue what seemed to be ahead of them, or would they end up like the soldier who haunted the mansion looking for his lost love. Separated prematurely and for all time by death; unable to declare themselves and be together. Sounded familiar, and melodramatic. As he waited for her to open her door, he decided to just take a chance and verbalized some of these questions, not wanting to leave it to become an awkward moment later. He could see it, the two of them stumbling over each other in the office, afraid to look the other in the eye. "Listen, Scully, I don't want to think that I kissed you tonight because I'd had too much champagne or that I was swept away by the tango." He stood, his eyes cast down to his hands that fingered his key ring nervously. She turned in the door way to look at him, waiting until he raised his eyes from the floor to meet hers. "Why did you kiss me, Mulder?" He considered a flip response. Then decided on the truth. "I've always wanted to kiss you, but kept my distance. I thought that was the way it had to be. And tonight, with you in that dress, and all of a sudden I saw your face in the painting..." She shook her head. "No, it's not the way things have to be, just they way they have been. Perhaps you should come inside." "No, I don't think that's a good idea. I should go home. But, well...." She suddenly had the urge to laugh, and decided to put him out of his misery. "I didn't say I didn't like it when you kissed me. In fact, I was thinking perhaps we should make a comparison." "Comparison?" he asked, confused himself now. Her fingers reached out and passed briefly over his lips, stilling any further questions he might have. They reached around his neck and gently pulled his head down to hers. Standing on her toes and leaning into his solid frame, she inched closer to his mouth with hers. When only a breath separated them, she whispered, "Between that kiss and this one." Where the previous kiss had been tender and gentle, this kiss contained all the passion they held in check for each other for so long. He was surprised when she groaned, an interesting noise for Scully to make. He held her tight with one arm, the other braced against the door frame. When her tongue traced across his lips, inviting his to open, he wasn't certain, but he thought a tiny scream crossed his lips. This was better than any of his fantasies had ever been. She was here and in his arms, exploring his mouth with her petite little tongue, her hands making their way up and down his back, over his shoulders underneath his jacket.... The she pulled away, trying to catch her breath, leaning her forehead on his chest. He was breathing as hard as she was. "Well?" he asked. He could feel her laughing, her shoulders heaving a bit. "Much better. I've learned a lot about you this evening Mulder." She said, turning her beautiful blue eyes on him again. "Anything you care to share?" he asked, curious. "Oh, yes. First of all, you let me win that bet. You knew I was right. I can only speculate why." "Because losing would be more fun. What else?" "Well," she said, smiling brilliantly up into his eyes and wiping some of the lipstick from his face. "You are a terrific dancer. That never occurred to me. Surprising, really. The only time I ever saw you dance was that time with Pheobe in the hallway." He laughed, pushing the long red wig hair over her shoulder, then dropping a kiss on her exposed collarbone, letting his eyes travel lower to the pale exposed flesh. "You were spying on me, Agent Scully? I didn't know you were there." "Not spying really...I just came in and there you were, and it seemed like a private moment." He ran his fingers over her cheekbone, down her nose, then let one finger come to rest under her chin, tilting her head and preparing to enjoy her lips again. "Anything else, Dana?" Oh, he'd called her Dana. She liked it when he did that. "Yes, I saved the best for last. You are one helluva kisser, and that actually came as the biggest surprise of all." He raised his head sharply. "And why was that such a surprise?" She smiled away from him, shyly. "Not a surprise that you were such a good kisser, but that I would ever get the chance to know that first hand. Now," she said, pulling gently on his tie, placing his head back in it's former position, his lips poised invitingly close to hers, "kiss me goodnight, Mulder, and go home before the neighbors start to talk." And he did, happily. Later, lying in his bed, he wondered if there was really anything that they might investigate at the Arlington Mansion. Was there an x-file in their experience? Had he really seen the woman in the picture at the top of the stairs? Had he really had an out-of-body experience, or more precisely had a spirit invaded his body during the dance? Or was it just that they were swept away? Anyone would surely understand being swept away in the company of the lovely Dana Sully. That's it, Mulder. Swept away in the passion of the dance. The only thing that needed investigating in that house tonight was their feelings for each other now that they admitted to having them. What they were exactly would warrant further investigation another day. He fell asleep wondering what kind of bet he would make with her next, and what he'd let her win the next time. Now he had a vision of Scully in a skin tight black dress, cut way too low for daytime and hugging all the right places to add to his collection. Maybe someday he could replace it with the one where Scully was in this bed with him....go to sleep, Mulder. Sweet dreams. ************************* Author's Notes: Yes, I am one of those; those who believe that Mulder and Scully's feelings for each other run deep. However, I know the value of prolonged unrelieved sexual tension and television ratings. I prefer not to see romance between these two on television. I prefer to write about the romance. And it's so much fun. So here I have combined romance, Halloween, and a bit of humor. Hope you enjoyed it. Did you? Write me. paperheart@webtv.net.