Pumpkin Seeds (1/1) by KatyBlue*********************************************************************
TITLE: Pumpkin Seeds
AUTHOR: KatyBlue
CLASSIFICATION: MSR
RATING: PG-13
SPOILERS: Pure frivolity. Where the heck did this come
from, I wonder? I have no clue!
DISCLAIMER: Well -- I refuse to believe these characters
belong to CC and 1013 productions anymore. I'm tired of
having my chain yanked and I believe Mulder and Scully
deserve to have at least a little happiness together. I
therefore believe that the MS dynamic belongs rightfully
to all fanfic writers and readers. We know what we want
and we're not afraid of giving it to them!
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Please forgive me, all my wonderful
betas...I know not what I do All errors are completely
my own! WARNING: This pie may be half-baked. (a special
thanks is owed to Clarissa and laura for taste-testing this
crazy chef's creation and finding it yummy anyway :)
***********************************************************************
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I have begun to plant thee,
and will labour
to make thee full of growing.
Let me infold thee,
and hold thee to my heart.
There if I grow,
The harvest is your own.
~Shakespeare, 'Macbeth'~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Screw your courage to the sticking place,
and we'll not fail.
~Shakespeare, 'Macbeth'~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Part (1/1)
The phone rang. She picked it up.
"Scully, are you free to come over?"
"Mulder, it's Saturday," she reminded him.
"I'm aware of that."
She played along. "We're not working on any case."
"I'm aware of that," he repeated, a hint of amusement in
his voice. He loved it when she gave him a hard time. She
loved giving him a hard time. It was perverse.
"So why exactly do I need to come over, Mulder?"
"May I remind you that tonight is All Hallow's Eve?"
"I'm aware of that," she said smugly.
"And as such, it represents the night spirits are said to
walk the earth. The one night when the dead, if they wish,
can return to the land of the living."
"And the reason you're telling me this is...?"
"If anyone is going to provoke the spirits, Scully, I'd say
we have a pretty good chance at being at the top of their
short and spooky list."
"Lovely," she drawled.
"Do you know where the tradition of Halloween came from,
Scully?"
"I'm sure you're about to tell me."
Of course he was. "Samhain -- that's pronounced sow-in
or sow-een by those who actually speak Gaelic without
butchering the language-- is the feast of summer's end,"
he stated. "It's considered the Celtic New Year -- the
end of the old year heralding in the new."
"Halloween as New Year's, hmmm?" she mused.
"Yup. The Celts believed the new year began with the onset
of the dark phase of the year, just as a new day actually
begins at sundown rather than sunrise."
"Fascinating, Mulder," she managed.
He continued, trying to get some small rise out of her, no
doubt. "The ancient Celtic God who held sway over Samhain
was depicted as two-faced. Turning one face toward those
who'd died during the last year and the other side to the
future to determine what the coming year would hold. In
fact, those two themes -- celebrating the dead and divining
the future -- are a part of most New Year's celebrations."
"And this means what, Mulder?"
"It means that we have to celebrate this holiday by
respecting some of its traditions."
"Which are...?"
"Come over and I'll show you."
"Mulder..." she moaned.
"Scully, please..." he entreated.
Mulder was always difficult to resist. Tonight, he seemed
especially so. But she had to keep up appearances. "This
doesn't involve wearing costumes, does it?"
"Scully..."
"And you're not going to try to scare me, are you Mulder?
Because everyday is like Halloween for us. I don't need to
observe it -- I live it."
"Okay, how about this? Ancient Celts celebrated the
holiday with their clan. They actually set places at the
table for those who had died that year and put lighted
torches outside the burial mounds so the dead could find
their way to the feast."
She ignored the darker possibilities for both of them
behind his words. He seemed too carefree for feasting
with the dead to be his intention. "Are you inviting me
to dinner, Mulder?"
"I'm inviting you to partake of the new year's celebration
with me in the Celtic fashion."
"Does that include the feasting?"
"Yes."
"And why, exactly, is the thought of eating a romantic
dinner with you creeping me out right now?"
"Aw, Scully. You're no fun."
"No dead in attendance please, Mulder and I might
just consider it."
"That's not really up to me. But I do have a method
which might keep away their madness."
She sighed and relented. "Fine -- I'll be over in about
an hour."
"I'll be ready for you."
Okay -- *that* didn't sound good.
****************************************************************
He answered the door with a large carving knife in one
hand.
"Mulder," she said nervously.
Leaning out the door, he looked up and down the hallway.
When he'd determined the coast to be clear, he leaned
even farther out and dropped a kiss boldly onto her lips,
catching her by surprise where she stood. His lips tugged
at hers all too briefly before he moved back into the
sanctuary of his space. Closing his knife-free hand around
her wrist, he coaxed her to follow him inside.
"Happy Halloween, Scully," he murmured into her ear
while reaching around her to shut the door.
Rearing back, she regarded him suspiciously.
"What have you got up your sleeve, Mulder?"
He grinned.
"Should I remind you how much I don't like surprises?"
"Come'on, Scully -- " he wheedled. His hand slipped up
to encircle her wrist, fingers working their magic by touch
alone. They slid upward, into her sleeve, seemingly with
a mind of their own. Tracing over her skin and back down.
"Hmmm...nothing there," he murmured. Locking his hand
around her wrist again, he pulled her with gentle but
insistent tugs toward his kitchen. "Live a little."
"Mulder," she warned.
Shaking his head in despair, Mulder planted his feet and
gave one firm tug. She found herself coming to an abrupt
halt up against his chest and he caught her there and
leaned down to press his lips against hers. This time,
his mouth lingered. This time, the kiss was thorough
and tasted of cinnamon and apples. His tongue slipped
into her mouth and tasted her. The heat of his body
warmed her.
They pulled apart slowly. And Scully was dismayed to
feel her face flushing with color. She licked her lips and
tasted something else entirely, eyeing him suspiciously.
"Is that rum, Mulder?"
"Hot mulled cider." One last persuasive tug delivered her
gently into the kitchen by his side. "Want some?"
He pointed to a pot on the stove. Two large pumpkins sat
nearby on the table, newspaper spread underneath them.
Mulder was grinning at her when she turned back to him.
"We're going to carve pumpkins, Mulder?"
He nodded emphatically. "Bet you haven't done that for a
while, Scully."
"No, Mulder," she admitted. "No, I definitely haven't."
She rolled her eyes. And then she couldn't help it. She
smiled at his apparent enthusiasm. He was infectious.
"You're serious..."
"Yup." He held out the knife. "Take your pick."
She sighed. "Does this mean I don't get that romantic
dinner you lured me over here with?"
"Hot mulled cider," he said hopefully. "That's the extent
of my culinary accomplishments for the moment. And a
surprise hors d'oeuvre in a bit. I can also offer you all
the take-out you can eat -- I'll even let you pick the
place this time."
She shook her head in despair and smiled. "You're
incorrigible, Mulder."
"And you're beautiful, Scully," he answered simply.
She shook her head and was silent for a moment,
dropping her eyes down to the floor at his words.
Then letting them rise to the pumpkins. Finally, she
forced herself to look up and meet his eyes. Noticing
they were laughing at her -- no, with her. She closed
her hands around his, a smile breaking out as she
carefully extracted the knife from his grasp. Moving to
the pumpkins, she studied them and finally put her
hand on one. "This one's mine."
"I knew you'd pick that one." He was smug.
"How'd you know?"
"It's almost perfectly symmetrical. As a scientist, you're
drawn to order -- it's a no brainer, Scully."
The other pumpkin was larger, but lop-sided, with green
veins mottling its skin when compared to the perfect
uniform orange of hers.
"Oh yeah?" she challenged.
He was still grinning. "Stands to reason, doesn't it?"
"Then explain *you*, Mulder."
He was speechless for a minute. Then he laughed out loud.
"You got me, Scully."
"Big time."
He moved to stand by the second pumpkin. "This one's mine
then, Charlie Brown."
"You're confusing the great pumpkin with that sad little
Christmas tree, Mulder." She pointed to his choice. "Your
pumpkin is still a fairly impressive specimen, despite its
flaws."
"Scully!" His eyes twinkled at the innuendo. "I didn't
know you had it in you."
"There's a lot of things you don't know I have in me,
Mulder," she shot back.
Chastised, albeit lightly, he grinned wildly down at his
feet. "You just keep on surprising me, Scully," he
mumbled.
Per their usualy fare, the moment swelled with need
and want and everything between them left unsaid for
too long. They weren't practiced yet at the more
familiar. Proclaiming intimate secrets to each other
was close to extracting teeth.
It continued to make these moments awkward.
So they searched for what to say next, when sarcasm and
innuendo ran out. It might never be easy, she imagined.
Mulder could be astoundingly reticent when he wanted to be.
And she was infinitely worse.
Reaching out, she touched his hand with the tips of her
fingers. Wanting to bring him back to her and choosing
practicality to do so. "So what do we do with the
pumpkins, Mulder? I've forgotten how to carve one of
these things." She turned his hand over and placed the
handle of the knife carefully back into his palm, curling
his fingers around it with her own. "Show me."
His eyes came back to hers, grinning again. "The best
part, Scully."
"What is?"
He placed the sharp point of the knife at the top of his
pumpkin. "The seeds."
"Ah."
He paused, testing her mettle. Giving her a serious look.
"This is a contest, you know."
"It is?" Her eyebrow climbed.
"Best pumpkin wins. We can't show each other our designs
until we're done."
"I need some of that cider for this, I think."
In one deft thrust, Mulder pushed the knife into the top of
his pumpkin and moved to his cupboards. She heard the
clinking of mugs, and the sound of liquid pouring into
them. He came up from behind and put one arm around her,
proffering hot mulled cider, complete with cinnamon stick
stirrer. She almost dropped the mug when she felt his lips
touch the back of her neck, but they were only the merest
whisper there before they deserted their target and his other
hand came around and offered her a large paring knife.
"For you, my friend..."
"Thank you."
"First part's easy."
He got out a frying pan and placed it on the stove.
"What's that for?"
"Later. Hors d'oeuvres."
They got down to business. She copied his methodology in
opening the top of her pumpkin. He watched her and modeled
his cut after her precision. They worked as a team after
the tops were off, standing over their respective pumpkins
and scooping big globs of pumpkin flesh and seeds onto the
newspaper.
Vague images returned to her with the smells and visceral
feel of what they were doing. Billy throwing the wet,
gooped innards at herself and Melissa on the glassed in
porch of their base house. And Charlie shrieking with
laughter. "Guts," he screamed. "Pumpkin guts!" Scully
felt scared, wondering if they'd killed the pumpkin. But
Melissa was laughing too and no one noticed her fear.
She kept quiet, worried about the pumpkin. Poised with
indecision at whether to cry or laugh.
She was swayed to laughter, sharing the secrets and scary
fun behind Halloween night that only kids can create.
Candles were flickering in the window and their mother was
warning them to be careful.
Melissa was giggling so hard she wet her pants.
Scully smiled.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"What, Scully?" he begged. And touched her. Everything
between them involved some form of touching now.
It was nice.
Soothing.
A balm to their weary souls.
She just stood there, letting him move closer, smiling as
his advance continued until his body pressed against hers.
She gave no protest when he bent over her -- poor Mulder
needed to stoop just to reach her lips. So she stretched
upward this time, helping him. They shared cinnamon dust
and she tasted some essential essence of Mulder behind
this. No doubt he was making a delicacy of her in some
way as well. His hands slipped under her sweater.
They were wet and slimy with pumpkin guts.
She shrieked.
He was laughing as they broke apart. "Not fair, Mulder,"
she admonished, with a heavy scowl to impress upon him
her displeasure at the loss of self-restraint.
"Sorry." But he was smirking as he gathered pumpkin seeds
into a bowl. "Help me out here, Scully."
The seeds were slippery. They picked them out of the
pumpkin guts in bunches. Seeds jumped from her fingertips
and evaded her chase across the newsprint. The struggle of
capturing their elusive prey made them silly by the time
they'd herded them all into a bowl. Scully looked at
Mulder with wonder. The two of them were actually giggling
together.
Mulder lifted his eyebrows. "Who knew, huh, Scully?"
"Who knew," she breathed, watching him cross to the sink
and rinse the seeds under the water, discarding scoops of
pumpkin, sans seeds, over the side of the bowl. He moved
to the stove and turned on the burner. She cleared her
throat. "What are you doing?"
"I told you. Hors d'oeuvres."
She walked up behind him and, though she was surprised
by the urge, slid her hands into the back pockets of his
jeans, leaning around to watch.
"Hot oil, Scully. Not a good idea."
A dash of oil splattered into the pan and she jumped back.
A tablespoonful of brown sugar fell from a spoon into the
pan with a plop. Globs of pumpkin guts riddled with seeds
followed, stringy flesh quickly shriveling away from the
fat bodies of the seeds as the heat hit them. Mulder
picked up a salt shaker and went to town.
He fried them until they were almost burnt. Abandoning
the pumpkin carving, they retired to the living room to sip
cider and let the seeds cool on paper towels in front of
them. And, of course, inevitably, they tried to eat the seeds
too soon and burned delicate taste buds off their tongues as
they whispered curses yet still managed to savor the flavor.
At some point, sated and seeds forgotten, Scully found
herself sliding backwards under Mulder's forward motion.
His body was heavy on top of hers. And then they were
making out on Mulder's couch like two teenagers, tongues
taking liberties with mouths, hands traveling to find yet
more flesh. Scully stopped the moment by laughing at
what they were doing. Mulder pouted. She appeased
him by insisting they finish the carving contest before
they went to third base.
They moved back into the kitchen and got down to
business.
Sitting at opposite sides of the table, knives poised,
hands possessively on their pumpkins, they eyeballed
one another like two gunslingers at the O.K. Corral.
"Mulder?"
"Yes, Scully?"
"Who judges this contest?"
"We both do."
"That doesn't seem fair. I vote for mine already."
"Can't you be a little more impartial than that?"
"I guess I can try."
He held out a hand and she extended hers. Their handshake
was firm. "May the best F.B.I. Agent win," Mulder said
solemnly.
Concentration reigned. Scully's design was simple -- one
long, continuous curved line. She wielded the knife with
expertise, finding herself comparing the force needed to
cut the pumpkin to that necessary for opening a dead body,
the inescapable mind clutter of her trade.
Fat little chunks were appearing to the side of Mulder's
pumpkin. Blocky letters, chopped into pieces so she
couldn't read them. "Don't even try, Scully," he said,
grinning maniacally.
She hovered over her pumpkin protectively, worried he
was trying to peek.
"Scully, do you know the origin of jack-o-lanterns?" he
asked instead.
"No. Perhaps you could tell me some more completely
useless trivia, Mulder."
"Are you being facetious?"
"Of course not."
"Well," he studied her suspiciously. "A lighted pumpkin --
actually, the Celts preferred gourds -- was used as a
lantern by people who had to travel on All Hallow's Eve.
They carved a scary face into it to frighten away any
spirits one might encounter on the road and keep all
evil apparitions from leading one astray."
"Okay, that one's actually interesting, Mulder."
"If you set a jack-o-lantern on a porch or in a window,
it's supposed to cast a spell of protection over the
household."
"So, Mulder..." She felt her eyebrow lifting higher.
"Are we going to attempt to keep the spirits away
with these?"
"Yup." He had wrinkles across his forehead as he
concentrated. That muscle in his jaw was tensing and
relaxing as he wielded the knife. Fascinated, she
stopped to watch.
"Did I mention this contest is timed?"
"Then I win. I'm done, Mulder."
"Nope. Me too -- almost..." His knife sawed busily.
A few last little slivers of pumpkin meat were all
that fell away from their knives. She gave hers a final,
critical once over and decided it passed muster.
Mulder laid down his knife and rubbed his hands together.
"Done."
They stopped concentrating on the pumpkins and stared
across the table at one another for a minute. Tilting his
head to the side and smiling slowly, he reached out to
pull a strand of pumpkin goo out of her hair and tucked
the strand behind her ear as she leaned toward him.
"You ready, big guy?" she demanded.
"Anytime you are."
She placed her hands on her pumpkin, ready to turn it
around, but Mulder yelped, "Wait!" Putting a hand up so he
wouldn't inadvertently see her handiwork, he leapt over to
a drawer, rummaging through it until he came away with two
candles. Then, stumbling across his kitchen with eyes tightly
closed, he held one out to her before groping his way back
to his own pumpkin.
The candles were long and tapered so they ended up sawing
them off at the base. And then they dripped wax, drop by
slow drop, into the bottom of their respective pumpkins so
the candles would stand in the puddle of its hardening,
eyeing each other speculatively throughout.
Mulder held out the matches to her.
More memories flooded in with the lighting of the flames.
Crisp fall leaves crunching under her feet, and her face
hot behind a mask. The specter of other children dressed
as monsters and the uncertainty of wondering if they were
just costumes or real monsters, mixing in with the innocent
on this scariest of nights. And of course, in the end, the
most decadent pleasure of candy, meant to be hoarded
secretly and devoured at will.
She and Melissa would consume every Reese's peanut
butter cup they'd squirreled away before they went to bed
that night, no matter how many tricks their mother used
to stop them.
She wondered what Mulder remembered from Halloweens
past.
They stood by their creations, candles lit.
Scully turned her pumpkin to face Mulder. She'd carved the
classic 'communion' alien. One long, curved cut formed the
head, with the V at the bottom the only cut unfinished in
order to hold the shell intact. The slitted eyes twinkled
and flickered eerily in the candle light.
Mulder grinned at her. "Great minds think alike."
"Your turn," she said.
He turned his pumpkin around. A tiny saucer-shaped UFO
hovered near the top. But his was mostly a message. She
read it with disbelief.
'I WANT YOU'.
She was speechless.
"You win," Mulder conceded.
He seemed uncertain. She couldn't seem to move, but she
did anyway. She touched him. Placed her hand over his
heart. "No, you win," she stated. She gave him a little
shove and fought back a grin.
He smiled slowly. "We need to put them in the window to
ward off the spirits," he stated finally.
They looked at the pumpkins. A strange message if there
ever was one. What would people think? Mulder had a flash
of insight. She could tell because he snatched up the
paring knife and bent over her pumpkin, his grin returning
with full force.
"What are you doing?"
"It's the Uncle Sam of aliens, Scully." He used the knife
to carve out a hand, pointing. Only instead of pointing
outward, like Uncle Sam does in the famous poster, it
looked more like the alien version was pointing up. She
shook her head in resignation. He shrugged and smiled.
Lifting their creations, they pushed the clutter of his
desk aside for this celebration and placed their pumpkins
side by side in the window. Then, retiring to his couch,
they watched the flicker and sparkle of candlelight make
the pumpkins dance sinuously in the darkness of the
room, keeping any evil spirits away. Mulder held her
hand and they leaned against one another heavily. Scully
felt herself growing sleepy until she had to fight back a
yawn and quickly covered her mouth with her hand.
Mulder moved the hand aside and kissed her. She
kissed him back.
He didn't try for second base this time. He leaned his
head onto her shoulder and she heard him sigh.
"So did we observe all the traditions we were supposed to
observe, Mulder?" she asked finally.
"Well, we've warded off the dead with our pumpkins. That
was the big thing." He took up her hand and squeezed it,
and she felt him lift his head. Out of the corner of her
eye, she could almost feel him studying her. "Because I
want you all to myself tonight."
She stared down at their hands, entwined, and squeezed
back. Mulder was much braver than she was.
"And what were the pumpkin seeds about?"
"No tradition there unless you want to start one. You know
my penchant for sunflower seeds -- how can I resist the one
time of the year when I get something bigger and better?"
"Sounds like a plan." She smiled and turned to him
finally. Reaching out to stroke his cheek. Ignoring the
pang when she realized she could read how world-weary
eyes were. "Anything else?"
"A new year," he said. "An old tradition. Night heralds
in the day. Care to share it with me, Agent Scully?"
She pretended to think about it.
"I'll buy breakfast..."
"I'll hold you to that, Mulder."
"And I'll hold you to something, Scully." He waggled his
eyebrows.
She had to laugh at the bawdiness of his statement. At
how they still hid behind humor and put on masks with
one another.
Because she knew what he held her to was his heart.
*********************************************************************
THE END
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Happy Halloween, all !!
BOO !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
My apologies to my wonderful betas, who may be cringing
right now at my characterization. I went solo on this one
and I let my inner Mulder and Scully relax just a little,
though I'm fairly sure the 'real' Mulder and Scully might
not let themselves be so bold! Hope you enjoyed this
decadent Halloween romp!
....and just to make sure this is 13 pages long...
(it *is* Halloween, after all...)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Visit my fanfic -- please -- it gets
very lonely out there in cyberspace!
\\
Virtual pumpkin seeds and mind candy ( ^...^ )
is free for the taking to all visitors!
http://members.nbci.com/KatyBlue
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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