TITLE: Flight 814
AUTHOR: Virtie
E-MAIL: virtuesandvices@aol.com
WEB SITE: http://geocities.com/fanficcorner/
RATING: NC-17
CATEGORY: TRA - Adventure/Romance/Angst 
CLASSIFICATION: MSR, Adventure
SPOILERS: Anything up to Season 7 is fair game!
ARCHIVE: Please! Just let me know first!
SUMMARY: Just one of the many plane flights Mulder
and Scully have had in their years of
investigating the X-Files. Yeah, right!
DISCLAIMERS: Don't own them (wish I did). Not
making any money off them (wish I was).
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Several bits of dialog in this
story are stolen, but I will be honest enough to
thank the person I stole them from! So thank you
Cathryn Michon, who wrote the teleplay to the
'China Beach' episode "I Could Have Danced All
Night...But Didn't", from which I stole the
lines. And to Dana Delany and Robert Picardo, the
actors who played best friends in love. They, like
Mulder and Scully, rarely got a chance to follow
their hearts. Well, I'm giving M&S that chance
right now!

**************************************************

FLIGHT 814

Denver International Airport
Gate 38, Concourse B
12:35 P.M.

Scully sat, legs crossed at the knee, reading a
paperback novel. She was trying hard to keep
interested in the story, but her mind kept
drifting, and her attention often fell upon the
watch on her right wrist. Their flight boarded at
12:50. And Mulder still hadn't shown up. She
sighed heavily, knowing she wasn't going to be
able concentrate until she was aboard the plane,
and stuck her bookmark roughly inside the book.
She reached down and put it in her carry-on, then
leaned back, consciously not looking at her watch.

Mulder had sent her on ahead of him an hour ago,
and she had agreed with only a little hesitation
as he told her he wanted to talk to the arresting
officer once more before they left; he still
wasn't convinced the Denver Police had caught the
right guy. Scully, as well as the Denver PD, felt
they had. Richard Shayne had practically admitted
to killing his wife. So what if there was no
physical proof? They would get a full confession
soon. It was only a matter of time. The FBI's
presence in the case was no longer required. 

But she knew Mulder didn't believe Shayne had done
it. He was still convinced that the evidence
pointed to a supernatural power. A poltergeist of
some kind. Or an old fashioned ghost. Mulder
wasn't sure the real killer COULD be caught. So
what else was new?

Scully realized her crossed leg was bobbing up and
down and she immediately stilled it. The cool,
collected Dana Scully DID NOT fidget. She looked
at her watch again. 12:43. She took a deep breath
and slowly blew it back out, then she glanced over
her shoulder. She let out another breath, this
time of relief.

Special Agent Fox Mulder was walking toward her,
his carry-on slung over his shoulder, his
expression dark. Scully bit her lip, guessing he
hadn't had much success in convincing the Police
they hadn't caught the right killer. She grimaced.
Now she would have to spend the rest of the more
than four hour long flight back to D.C. listening
to him whine and bitch about local law
enforcement. It wasn't as if Federal law
enforcement was any better in their treatment of
'Spooky' Mulder. It was just easier to pick on the
'little guys'. She held back a smile. Typical
Federal employee ego, she thought. Even she wasn't
immune.

Mulder sat down heavily in the chair next to her.
She looked over at him just as he blew a breath of
air out and up in a deep sigh, causing the hair
that had fallen over his forehead to flutter.
Scully felt her heart imitate that flutter and
quickly looked away. Not now, she thought. Her
attraction to her partner, which had existed for
years, always got out of hand when she was tired
or stressed. And she couldn't afford those kind of
thoughts. As pleasurable as they were, she
couldn't stand the thought of losing his
friendship and trust. The risk was just not worth
it.  She closed her eyes and concentrated on a new
thought; her mother. Yes. It was her mother's
birthday in...two months. What should she get
her?

"Scully? You okay?"

Mulder's voice startled her, and her eyes flew
open. She turned to face him. "Of course I am. Why
do you ask?"

He shrugged. "You looked a little out of it."

Scully felt her eyes widen. For the past seven
years, she had been fighting her physical
reactions to Mulder, praying that his excellent
observational skills would overlook her
infatuation with him. "I'm just tired."

He nodded and looked away. "You can sleep on the
flight," he suggested.

"Yeah, right," Scully muttered under her breath.
She hated to fly, and he knew it. She had never
really slept on a plane. Dozed maybe, but never
restfully. Except for that one flight back from
the Antarctic a few years ago. Even after spending
three days in the army hospital after being picked
up by a Russian rescue team, she and Mulder had
slept heavily on the flight home. Of course, they
shouldn't have even been alive to go home after
that incident. Mulder had still been recovering
from being shot in the head, she had still been
very weak due to the virus she had been exposed
to, and both had been frostbit and weakened due to
nearly two hours on the ice. At least the sun had
been shining. And they had had each others body
heat to help keep warm. 

She blushed as she remembered how her thoughts
during those two frigid hours had strayed to their
night in the Florida forest just after her cancer
went into remission. Thoughts about naked bodies
and sleeping bags. She closed her eyes again. How
come, after all these years, it got harder and
harder to keep from thinking inappropriate
thoughts about her partner?

"We are now boarding first class passengers on
Flight Eight One Four to Washington International.
If you have first class tickets for Flight Eight
Fourteen to Washington, please board now."

Scully opened her eyes again as Mulder asked,
"Think they'll ever splurge and let us ride in
First Class, Scully?"

She didn't have to ask who 'they' were. She shook
her head. "You wouldn't be happy in First Class,
Mulder. Not enough people to watch."

"Yeah, but the flight attendants sure give you
more attention."

Scully was tempted to roll her eyes. As if the
flight attendants didn't give him enough attention
already. He never had a problem with them. He was
always courteous and polite to them, and that,
combined with his looks, usually got him anything
he wanted from them. More than one time in the
past he had been the recipient of a note with a
name and motel room number on it. He would always
laugh and look abashed, though Scully knew he
wasn't a bit embarrassed, and pocket the note with
a spectacular smile. Thankfully, he never accepted
the invitations...as far as Scully knew, anyway.

Lost in thought once again, Scully almost missed
it when they were called for boarding. She stood,
shouldering her carry-on, and moved toward the
door to the plane along with the rest of the
crowd. Mulder was right behind her, practically
stepping on her heels, urging he forward with just
a bit of pressure on the small of her back.
Another flight, she thought. Another several hours
sitting in close confinement with her partner. Her
handsome, charming, brilliant, funny partner. 

Why was she dreading it so?

**************************************************

Mulder followed Scully closely as they moved up
the tunnel that lead to the plane. He was still
pissed they were leaving when he was positive the
case wasn't closed. But, as he had learned to do
many times before, he told himself he had done his
best and moved on. 

He wasn't looking forward to the long flight ahead
of him. They weren't so bad when he was on his way
TO a new case; reading the case files and
feeling the anticipation of the work ahead always
made the flight go by fast. But the journey home
was the tough part. No, it wasn't that he didn't
enjoy flying. It wasn't that he couldn't sleep or
relax in the air. It was a much more complicated
problem. He had nothing to distract his ever
active mind, therefore he continually thought
about things he should not think about. Things
about the woman sitting so close to him.

He often felt guilty when he and Scully had to sit
apart due to a late reservation on a full plane.
Guilty for being relieved. That way, he didn't
have to smell her provocative scent. Or hear her
voice when she leaned over to talk to him. Feel
her arm press into his. Or her breath on his cheek
when she spoke. He had managed, in nearly 8 years
of partnership, to insure she had no inkling of
his obsession with her. But when they flew
together, it was very hard to keep his physical
reactions to her under control.

Mulder had many different kinds of nightmares, but
one in particular took place on an airplane. He
and Scully had been returning from some case when
he had lost it. Right there on the plane he had
become so aroused by his contact with Scully that
he had exploded. And Scully had done nothing more
in that dream than retrieve a pretzel that had
fallen to his lap. The look of disgust and fear on
the dream Scully's face had been enough to send
Mulder into a depression that lasted for days.
And, of course, when the real Scully asked him
what was wrong, he couldn't tell her. What was he
supposed to say? 'Well, Scully, I had a dream that
we were flying, you accidentally touched my
crotch, I jacked off and you never spoke to me
again.'

Ever since that dream (the only time he had ever
considered a wet dream a nightmare), he had been
afraid to fall asleep in Scully's presence. Afraid
of what he might reveal. He wasn't about to lose
the best thing that ever happened to him by acting
like a horny fool in front of his partner. No way.

Slowly, they made their way into the plane,
working back toward their seats. Scully stopped to
put her carry-on into the overhead compartment,
pulling out a paperback book as she did so. Mulder
found his eyes dropping to her chest as she
reached up, barely catching a glimpse of the curve
of her breast in the V of her blouse as it gaped
open. Creamy white and so soft looking. He looked
away quickly, not risking the chance that she
might notice where his attention had strayed. She
slid into the seats and took the one near the
window. As Mulder put his own bag next to hers,
not having to reach as far as she had, he watched
as she immediately pulled down the plastic shade
on the window, then proceeded to buckle her seat
belt.

He briefly wondered if anyone was assigned to sit
in the aisle seat or if he could sit there. That
way, he wouldn't have to sit so close to her. He
shook his head in dismay. Even if it was
available, what would Scully think if he chose to
sit a chair away from her? It was a bit rude. With
a sigh, he slid into the chair next to his
partner.

She had opened the book and started reading, or so
it appeared. He knew for a fact she was more aware
of what was going on around her than she let on.
She wouldn't relax until they were level in the
air, and even then, she never really let herself
completely unbend. He also knew that she knew that
the best way to keep the mind occupied was to
converse. So why was she attempting to read now?
He leaned forward to look at the title on the
book. 'Timeline' by Michael Crichton.

"Must be a good book," he commented.

Scully didn't respond.

Mulder was undaunted. "You never start reading so
soon. Especially on a long flight."

Still, no response.

"Of course, if it's a really, really good book,
and you can't wait to see what happens next, then
I can understand why you want to continue reading
it right away." Pause. Nothing. "But then you
should have been reading while waiting for me, and
yet, I seem to recall you looking impatiently at
your watch and looking for me over your shoulder,
instead."

"Mulder, shut up." She never even looked up from
the pages in front of her.

With a smirk, Mulder sat back in his seat. They
were both silent for a while, though he knew she
still wasn't reading.

"I'm just not anxious to hear you complain about
this case and how YOU are always right." Her voice
was soft, but steady.

"But I AM always right, Scully." The expression on
her face when she looked up to glare at him made
him laugh. "All right, all right. The case is
closed. I'm not happy about it, but I'll leave it
at that, okay?"

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Okay." With one
last look of warning, she went back to her book.
He let her be...for now.

A few more people filed past them, moving into
their seats, and the flight attendants set about
closing the doors on the overhead compartments.
Mulder casually looked them over. All three were
women. No surprise there. One was an old biddy
who's face reminded him of the Wicked Witch of the
West, but the other two were attractive. A pert
blonde and an Asian girl. The aisle seat next to
him was still empty and he considered once again
moving over so he could talk with them better. He
glanced over at Scully and was surprised to see
her look away quickly and concentrate on her book
again, as if embarrassed being caught watching
him. He furrowed his brow. Why had she been
watching him? It was obvious she didn't want to
talk, so why? 

He sighed and settled back into his chair,
deciding to just stay where he was for the time
being. As the plane taxied out onto the runway,
which appeared to be 100 miles away from the
actual airport, he feigned interest in the flight
attendants speech on safety. It was hard to
pretend he didn't know the whole spiel by heart.
When the old bat who was demonstrating all the
procedures near him saw him mouthing the words
along with the speaker, she gave him a deadly
glare. Quickly, he bit his lower lip to avoid
saying the familiar words. A soft snort to his
left had him looking at his partner. She, too, was
biting her lip, trying not to laugh. His eyes
widened in surprise and he felt a smile fall on
his lips.

Scully smiled back at him and shook her head. She
leaned toward him and whispered a familiar line.
"I can't take you anywhere." She settled back in
her seat and opened her book back up. But Mulder
could tell she still wasn't reading.

It seemed to take forever to get to the head of
their runway. By the time the plane began to
accelerate in preparation for take off, Mulder had
already begun dozing. When he felt the plane lift,
he opened his eyes and turned to Scully. Her eyes
were closed as well. She had put the book in the
pocket on the back of the seat in front of her and
placed her hands in her lap. If anyone else had
looked at her, they would have thought she was
sleeping. But Mulder could see the tenseness in
her shoulders and jaw. And her supposedly loosely
clasped hands tightened on themselves almost
imperceptibly. 

Instead of feeling sympathy for his partner's
discomfort, Mulder felt a twinge of anger. He
hated the fact that she could feel such fear and
be determined not to show it. It was a trait he
had admired once. But after all these years, he
wanted to see Dana Scully admit she was afraid.
Just once. And just to him.

With another tired sigh, he put on the headphones
the airline provided, found a decent bit of music,
and prepared for a long flight.

**************************************************

THE FIRST HOUR

Scully couldn't relax.

She had tried reading. No luck. As good as the
book was, she just kept reading the same page over
and over again. She put on the headphones, but
none of the music playing held any interest for
her. And she sure wasn't going to listen to air
traffic control! She picked up the airline
magazine and searched for the crossword page. Just
her luck, it had already been done. And in pen.
She stuffed it back in the chair and reached over
to grab the one in front of Mulder. He had been
sitting with his arms crossed and his eyes closed,
bobbing his head along with whatever music he had
chosen, for some time now. At her movement, he
opened one eye. She glared at him, daring him to
say something. He pressed his lips together and
said nothing. As she sat back into her own seat,
he closed his eyes and continued his head bobbing.

She found the crossword, which had already been
started, and set about finishing it. She glanced
at Mulder once, and suddenly wished she hadn't
told him off earlier. Talking would distract her
so much better. But she really didn't want to deal
with the other emotions hearing his voice would
provoke. How pitiful is that? she asked herself.
Not being able to talk to your best friend because
you're afraid he'll see how much you want to jump
him. She shook her head sadly and concentrated on
her task.

Then she got stuck. She put the end of the pencil
she was using in her mouth and started chewing on
it, thinking. Concentrating. Then, without
thought, she nudged Mulder. "What's  'a large
lizard or a TV screen'? Seven letters." She looked
over at him. His eyebrows were up and his hazel
eyes were dark and lazy. If she didn't know
better, she would have called his look 'full of
desire'. Maybe he had been dreaming about
Diana... or one of the flight attendants. She
immediately became sorry she woke him.

He slowly took off the headphones, lowering them
so they wrapped around his neck. "What?" His voice
was deeper than usual. Husky.

"Never mind," Scully replied breathlessly.

"No. What was the question?"

She repeated the clue. 

"Monitor."

Scully looked at him. Then at the page in her lap.
'Monitor'. It fit. "Thanks," she whispered. Then,
trying her best to ignore him again, continued.
Before long, she was finished. When she looked
over at him again, her eyes widened in surprise.
While he had put his headphones back on, he was
still watching her. And his eyes were still dark
and mysterious. Their intensity almost frightened
her, as it had many times in the past. But this
time, it also sent her heart racing, and made
her body heat up.

She looked away and wriggled uncomfortably in her
seat. One glance at her watch told her they still
had a long way to go.

*****

End Part 1/4

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