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Subj: xfc: The Midnight Hour (1 of 1) by Kristinberry Shortcake Date: Mon, 22 Nov 1999 12:16:43 AM Eastern Standard Time From: kristin luckey To: xfc-atxc@onelist.com TITLE: The Midnight Hour AUTHOR: Kristinberry Shortcake E-MAIL ADDRESS: kluckey@shrike.depaul.edu FEEDBACK: Hells yeah! DISTRIBUTION: Oh, yeah. You know what I like. SPOILER WARNING: "Millennium" RATING: PG CLASSIFICATION: V KEYWORDS: MSR DISCLAIMER: They ain't mine, but they is some cool muthas. SUMMARY: The clock strikes twelve. AUTHOR'S NOTES: My first posted fic. Please don't hurt me...or my ego. All the commotion from the past hour had died down. The only sounds were an occasional comment, none too cheery, from the passing hospital staff stuck working the graveyard shift on New Year's, the steady hum of the respirators and soft beeping sounds of monitors, and, of course, a New Years tradition, the animated voice of Dick Clark resounding from the small television mounted above them on the wall. Mulder shifted uncomfortably in the tan plastic couch, the only beacon of anything resembling color in the sterile, white-walled room. He glanced to the television monitor and then to Scully, seated next to him. Only inches away... He turned toward her, grimacing as he tried most unsuccessfully to adjust his arm, surprisingly enough the only injury sustained throughout the course of their eventful evening, which was, at the moment (and he assumed for the next few days) bound tightly at his side in a sling. Better than a cast... and not too much of a setback considering the ordeal they'd been through. He was about to speak when a nurse passed by, wielding a cart stacked with bed sheets, grumbling something to herself. Yeah...no kidding...what a night. The heavyset woman's utterances, reeking of sarcasm, startled him from his reverie. He moved in toward Scully who was still staring up at the monitor attentively, though he knew she must be staring partially out of pure exhaustion. Her lips were parted slightly, her breathing soft and slow. She appeared to be deep in thought, in another world altogether. He wondered what she thought about. And then the countdown began... "10..9...8..." Way to go Dick. Still around after all these years. "Grab someone next to you!" She was still fixated on the television, leaning forward now in her seat. But then maybe she wasn't really focused on the big ball dropping at all... "Because there's no time like the present!" And just as he made his decision, in that split second between the past and the unavoidable future, she turned her head. As if she knew his intentions all along, as if she had just been waiting... "4...3...2..." He leaned in toward her... "1" ...their lips meeting firmly. It was not awkward...it was not the throes of passion... It just felt right. It was right. It was the most natural thing in the world. And it was a long time coming. And then their lips parted. But they did not. She smiled, a smile reserved for only the rarest of occasions. A smile that lit up the room...a little room appreciated more by them in that moment alone than anything the streets of New York had to offer. Dick Clark was still talking somewhere in the background, but Mulder couldn't really make out what he was talking about...starting off the New Year with a bang...doing everything you told yourself you would accomplish this time last year, and every year... Everything was quite hazy at that moment, quite indefinite, except one small thing. One small thing that had the power to transform the room... He looked at her face. Had he ever seen her smile like that? Had anyone? It was like she had a secret that no one knew, that she was keeping to herself, luxuriating in the pure pleasure and the pure torture that keeping it hidden brought...There was something so utterly intimate about her smile. And then he spoke. "The world didn't come to an end." And quite matter-of-factly, or as matter-of-factly one can appear wearing such a visage, she replied, "No, it didn't." They stood simultaneously, side by side, his good arm slipped over her shoulder, and walked out together...past the party goers in Times Square, past the woman filing papers at the front desk, past the young EMT at the main door, oblivious, at least for a moment, to all but each other. * * * They walked outside together. There was relatively little noise for such an eventful evening. The click of her heels echoed off the pavement. The steady mist had now coated every car in the lot. The air was crisp, cool, but the night was abnormally warm for January in DC. Scully stopped at the drivers side of his car. Mulder reached around to his back pocket with his good arm and produced his keys for her approval. He tossed them across the hood. "Still got it." "Yeah, I'll assume that's the pain medication talking since the one- armed man can't drive himself home," she quipped, a slightly less illuminated smile than earlier making its second appearance of the night. "Ouch, shot down. Scully, you're not mad because you have to babysit me tonight are you?" "No...I don't mind." "Because you don't have to." "No...Mulder, you are going home and going to bed and I'm making sure you do exactly that. Besides, doctor's orders. Your track record isn't exactly golden, you know." "What do you mean by that?" He climbed into the passenger seat, reaching around to close the door. Maneuvering with that thing was going to be a pain in the ass...too bad Scully was there to make sure he kept it on... "So, not that I want to get into this now, but you do realize that we've got a report due on the desk of the Assistant Director first thing Wednesday morning?" "Check." "And I have no idea what the report is going to contain." "Check." He turned toward her methodically, sensing her return to professional mode. "But you're not going to worry about that until Tuesday." "Oh really?" She looked at him incredulously as she turned the key in the ignition. "No, you're not. And neither am I." He turned back toward the window, distracted. "Because today is holiday. It's official. I'm declaring it." The traffic was not heavy. She credited that to the fact that everyone was out somewhere. Probably drunk, having the times of their lives, making decisions that they would regret in the morning... She slowed the car, finding a spot on the curb just outside his building. The rest of their ride had been relatively silent. She popped the trunk, locked the door and stepped out. He walked around and got his trench coat out of the back, leaving the stack of paper work for her. "Thanks Mulder," She mumbled, turning toward him, and bent down to lift the remaining items from the trunk. They made it to the front door, Scully walking off balance under the burden of the stack of paper, his bag of clothing, and her own overcoat. They walked toward the elevator, noise from upstairs filtering down to greet them as the front door fell shut behind them. Someone was having a good time upstairs. The stereo was cranked up, the plaster above them vibrating to the bass beat. "Hey, why wasn't I invited?" His expression mocked incredible hurt. She just stared ahead. "I wonder..." The elevator arrow lit, the doors parting. They stepped inside, saying nothing. The car jerked as it came to a stop on his floor and they stepped out, moving toward his room. She set the box down outside his door, fishing the key ring from her pocket. "All right, very funny, Mulder. Why isn't your key with the car key?" He looked at her, hesitantly, a mischievous look settling over his features. "Would you believe me if I said it was in my pants pocket?" Her eyebrow raised in that customary fashion. "Mulder....? I am not fishing around in your pocket for your key. Try something like that with me and your other arm will be in a sling." He handed his jacket to her and retrieved the key, slipping around her to unlock the door. They walked in. She set his jacket down on the couch and went back into the hallway to pick up the rest of his things. Mulder had gone into the bedroom and was, she presumed, changing into some fresh clothing. Scully walked over to the couch, hung his jacket, which was quite noticeably caked with dirt along the hem, on the rack in the corner. She walked to the window, checked on his fish. "Scully...?" She screwed the top back on the fish flakes bottle. "Yeah?" His voice sounded muffled coming from the bedroom. Or was he in the bathroom? "Ummm...could you help me with something?" "Christ...." She mumbled under her breath, almost afraid to ask what was coming. She walked across the room and stopped at his bedroom doorway. The door was cracked, but she could not see him. "What Mulder?" He was silent for a minute and then, "I can't get my shirt off." She cracked open the door. He was standing there, shirt unbuttoned to the neck, half over his head, wrapped around his sling. She couldn't help but laugh. "Oh, good, I'm glad to see that I've brought some entertainment to your evening." She couldn't tell if he was smiling. She walked over to him, pulling the shirt back down over his head. His hair stood on end, spiked from where the shirt had been. "Sorry Mulder...uhuh." She smiled, attempting to purse her lips and stifle her amusement. "Sorry." She looked up at him. He was smiling as well. She had slipped off her heels and had to stand on her toes to reach his collar. She undid the remaining two buttons and made him turn around so she could untangle his arm from the shirt without hurting him. He let her take charge, slipping the shirt over the sling. He turned again to face her. She was suddenly silent, standing inches from him, acutely aware of the heat which persisted in the building despite the fact that it was January 1. "There," she said quickly, her face turning from his abruptly. Their gaze broken, he walked toward the bathroom, flicked the light switch, and disappeared behind the door. She stood still for a second and then started looking purposefully about the room, a linen closet near the doorway garnering her attention. After a few minutes she spoke again. "Mulder, do you have any sheets or anything...a blanket?" He called back from the adjacent room, his words indecipherable due to the toothbrush now stuck in his mouth. She heard him shut the medicine cabinet and she sighed, heading toward the closet herself. She found a blanket on the second shelf and was looking for an extra pillow. She heard the tap running in the bathroom. The blanket would do. It wouldn't get too cold. He only had one window... Mulder quietly stepped up behind Scully and tapped her on the shoulder. "Mulder!" She yelled and spun around. He was standing there, face still wet from brushing his teeth, his hair all mussed up, extending with his good arm a pair of folded sweatpants. "I realize they might be a little big, but they've got to be more comfortable than Armani." She took them from him, a smile creeping over her features yet again. "Thanks Mulder" They stood there for a minute, only inches apart. She looked up at him. His voice barely came out, almost a whisper. "Thanks for saving my butt again today." He reached out, cupping her cheek, his serious expression morphing into one of sheer contentment. They stood like that for a moment. She looked up at him once more. Then they parted. She turned slowly back toward the doorway and headed to the living room. * * * The light from the street lamp just outside his apartment filtered through the blinds, playing a pattern across the leather sofa. She lay there, staring at the ceiling, thinking about everything that had just happened, thinking of nothing at all. She turned slightly, the couch cool underneath her. She wrapped the blanket more tightly around her shoulders. The rain had stopped its steady flow at least an hour ago. She now lay there, listening to every sound...the irregular drip, drop of the pipes from the apartment next door, someone walking around a floor below. The party had died down long ago. The guy's door had not even opened or slammed shut once in the past 45 minutes. She sat up, looking out into the shapes the shadows formed across his kitchen doorway. Even the fish appeared to be sleeping. They hung, suspended motionless in the murky waters of the unlit tank. His computer was idle, the screen dark before she lay down, providing none of its typical, comforting glow. She rose from the couch, still wrapped tightly with the blanket she had taken from his closet earlier. She walked slowly toward his door, carefully, unconsciously trying to avoid making any noise that might disturb Mulder if he were indeed asleep. The wood floor creaked just a footstep from his door, which he had left open. Scully stood at his doorway, observing him, draped across the bed dressed only in his grey pajama pants, legs wrapped loosely in his sheet. His eyes were shut. He made no motion. She whispered in his direction. "Mulder?" No response. Then the sheet rustled. He slowly rolled over, turning toward the doorway, and propped himself half up on his injured elbow. He looked her direction, but said nothing. He looked her up and down, noting how his sweatpants hung from her frame, dragging along the floor at her feet, her attempt to cuff them not lost on him. Her hair was slightly out of place and her makeup had worn off hours ago, a welcome change from her usual polished appearance. She broke the silence, her voice alone conveying her exhaustion. "I couldn't sleep." He said nothing, but patted the mattress next to where he lay, motioning for her to come in. She did so with little hesitation. She walked toward the bed and gingerly slipped in beside him, shoulders still wrapped in the blanket. She lay there, silent for several minutes, facing the ceiling as before. He just looked at her, still turned toward her on his side. She looked at their reflection in the mirror above his bed. He wondered what was running through her mind. She closed her eyes and let out a small sigh. She turned toward him deliberately, looking straight into his eyes, into him. He reached over and cupped her cheek, his hand just below her ear, supporting her neck, drawing her face toward his own, pulling them close together. Without hesitation, their lips met as they had come together in the hospital only hours before. It seemed like days had passed since then. But now their kiss deepened, turned into something similar to but so much more complicated than what had transpired earlier. They longed to escape into one another. The trick is to keep breathing... Then their lips parted, but their gaze did not. They lay like that, facing each other, neither too seemingly startled about what had just happened. Then, Mulder draped his arm across her waist and their lips met again, this kiss shorter, more caring if somewhat less passionate than before. But every kiss would be as emotionally charged as the first. Their lips parted and she smiled at him with the barest and most honest emotion she had ever displayed. He looked on protectively. She broke their gaze only to burrow closer to him, wrapped in the warmth of him and her blanket, her head tucked under his chin, resting against his chest. And that is how they slept, together now just as they had been before, the mirror above the only witness to this new physical intimacy which would complement the spiritual intimacy already shared: an intimacy everyone had pronounced a long time coming. --------------------------- ONElist Sponnsor ---------------------------- For BUFFY or BABYLON 5, SPAWN or SOUTH PARK, NextPlanetOver.com sells the cool stuff you want. Shop now and get your FIRST ORDER FREE!! Click Here ------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------------------------------- The X-Files Creative Mailing List Archived at http://www.xemplary.com To subscribe, go to http://www.onelist.com/subscribe/xfc-atxc To unsubscribe, write xfc-atxc-unsubscribe@onelist.com Check out the XFC Feedback list http://www.onelist.com/subscribe/xfc-fdbk ---------------------------------- Imported to ATXC courtesy of NewsGuy news service http://newsguy.com

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