From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org
Date: 3 Apr 2002 03:16:32 -0000
Subject: What a Way to Spend Easter by Amy H
Source: direct

Reply To: AMYgurL9@aol.com


Title: What a Way to Spend Easter

Author: Amy H

Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, but I use 'em

Setting: During the 6th season

Enjoy!
____________


"What a way to spend Easter," Mulder quipped
and flopped down upon the lumpy motel matress.
The comforter was littered with an ongoing pattern 
of little green leaves and reeked of  cheap strong 
detergent that he was probably 
allergic to, but he, in this state of total exhuastion did
not care, and remained atop it, unmoving.

"Indeed," Scully sarcastically replied, "I can't believe 
we were held over, on *Easter*. It seems like our sort
of luck.  Three flights later, we're stuck here, *in New
Jersey*, probably only an hour or two away from home."

Mulder chuckled and rolled over onto his back.

"Yes, our sort of luck, Scully; only *one* room left with *one* 
king sized bed for us to share.  Great luck," he raised 
his eyebrows suggestively, "Would you prefer if I called you
Laura?"

Scully rolled her eyes at him.  "We *could* be eating Easter 
ham, Mulder," she quirked

"We *could* be chasing monsters, too."

Scully dropped her heavy bags beside the door and crossed her 
arms over her chest, in a classicly Scully way. "So who's taking 
the big comfy chair?"

"Woah, woah, woah, Scully... neither one of us is taking the chair.
This bed is as wide as the Grand Canyon, we can both 
*easily* fit on it... easily *and* comfortably."

She kicked the door shut behind her, half amused by 
his hyperbole, half frightened.

"If you say so..." she sat down upon the edge softly, 
rubbing up against Mulder coindcidentally.  It *was* 
a large bed, a *very* large bed, and they both *could* fit on it
comfortably.  She shrugged, kicked off her shoes and
pulled her feet up upon the bed. 

"Tell me a story," Mulder murmured, his words slurred
with sleep.

She pulled a pillow from beneath the comforter and hit
him with it playfully.  He opened one eye.

"I don't want to play, Scully.  Sleep."

Scully turned over on her side and faced him, looking
at his face while he pleasantly tried to sleep.

"Mulder..." she whispered.

"Humm?" he asnwered, opening his eyes softly.

She looked half embarassed, "You know how we had
to lift all those things today, and, and we did a lot of 
running and moving and not a lot of resting?  Narrowly
escaping death a multitude of times..."

He retorted with a laugh.

"Will you rub my back?  It's sore.  I don't do a lot of
crazy stuff in Yoga, so... I'm sore."

"Scully..."

"I'll do you afterwards."

"*Do* me?"

"You know what I mean," she said, looking down at him with
almost disappointment. He let out a deep breath and sat up
curiously, blinking in the harsh lamp light.

"Under one condition."

"And what is that?" she asked, unable to control her 
smile.

"No longer than 10 minutes each, and we go to bed 
immediately afterward."

She nodded, "Okay.  Me first, but let me change my
clothes before you start."

She unzipped her suitcase and pulled out some clothes,
and then retreated to the bathroom.  He wouldn't do this 
for anyone else but Scully. His eyes fell heavily closed, 
and, in what felt like a second, she returned wearing
silky pajama pants and a pinkish tee-shirt that fit her 
awkwardly.  She laid down beside him and nudged his 
shoulder.

"Hmmm, I'm awake, I'm awake."

"You'd better be," she said, making herself comfortable, "Or
I might have to start singing."

"Heaven forbid," Mulder gibed.  Scully pulled a pillow under 
her cheek and let out a deep breath.  Mulder then placed 
his hands upon Scully's
narrow back and began to massage her tense muscles.  
She closed her eyes sensitively.  She liked the way Mulder 
touched her, it was soothing, and reassuring.  He rubbed 
imaginery circles upon her skin and dug his palms against 
her sore shoulders.  

Scully groaned, and Mulder was suddenly not so tired 
anymore.  He
continued to work his hands up her back, loosening rigid
deltoids or whatever Scully called them.  Her spine was 
perfectly straight.  *She* was perfect, there was no 
question about that.  Scully, for a short and thin woman, had
well-defined muscles in the upper and lower regions in her 
back. Mulder began squeezing bunched muscle groups in 
her shoulders until they were firm and loose.  He chopped 
and rolled  his hands overher strained muscles until he 
could no longer feel any strain in them.
He continued the soothing motions on the knots intertwined 
with muscles on her body until his hands became tired, 
and he began to almost fall asleep himself.  

Mulder glanced at the bedside alarm clock and grinned.  
It had been 18 minutes.  He took his hand off of her back 
and gazed into her face, but found that she was 
sound asleep.  He did not want to wake her, so he 
flipped off the light switch, pulled the blankets over them 
and laid beside her, almost spooned against her in the 
dark. Outside, pale light from the streetlights poured into the 
window, casting their shadow against the nearby wall.

Life was good.  And, Mulder thought to himself, almost 
secretively, he didn't need Easter ham, or any family 
members to be happy on Easter.  All he needed was 
Scully; this was, indeed, the only way he had wanted 
to spend Easter.  

The End

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