TITLE: Conference Room (1/1)
AUTHOR: Shoshana
EMAIL ADDRESS: shoshana1013@excite.com
DISTRIBUTION STATEMENT: Anywhere
SPOILER WARNING: Everything through Alpha.
RATING: PG-13
CONTENT STATEMENT: MSR
CLASSIFICATION: VRH
KEYWORDS: Mulder/Scully romance
SUMMARY: Mulder and Scully attend a meeting.
DISCLAIMER: These characters do not belong to me.
FEEDBACK: Would love it.

Conference Room
By Shoshana

     A man had been in Agent Scully's bed last night. A man now sitting
within inches of her in a claustrophobic little room passing as a legitimate
conference room. Whether it was the overcrowded circumstances, the warm
spring weather or Mulder next to her, Scully was not only bored to tears by
another ramble through F.B.I. statistics, past and present, she was way too
hot in her wool suit.

    Trying to follow the speaker's train of thought, she finally lost any
meaning in his words and her mind wandered to the night before, tucking
Mulder into her bed. She was pretty sure he was going to end up there
anyway, just not that intoxicated, the result of scarfing down most of two
bottles of chardonnay. He wasn't kidding when he said couldn't hold his
liquor. She'd escorted him to the bedroom shortly after nine, helping him
collapse into bed.

     They hadn't made love yet, perhaps fearful that even after so many
years of mutual attraction, the spell of their affair might be damaged by
haste. It had been less than a week since they'd gone off to a secluded
beach motel together. And she knew it was up to her to set the pace of the
relationship. Yet she sensed that Mulder was the more cautious one at this
point.

     Last night brought back memories of Eddie Van Blundht... same couch,
same wine, same guy...NOT REALLY and thank God for that! Mulder didn't have
her strong recollections of what was said and almost done on that couch
years ago and she made a conscious effort not to tell him any of her old
prom stories in deference to that unfortunate incident.

     She silently cursed having had two bottles around the house. She'd
been ready to take him to bed last night and her plan had been sabotaged,
waylaid by Mulder's appetite for moo shoo pork washed down with chardonnay.
Maybe he knew what he was doing, hopeful that he'd be incapacitated before
the opportunity arose. Who knows? She only knew that she was not that
patient a woman and this was the longest Friday morning meeting she'd ever
been to.

     Last night, after putting him to bed, she'd quickly changed into
comfortable pajamas and laid down next to her unconscious bedmate. She
hadn't felt this tranquil at night for years. Her personal safety wasn't
the issue, he'd have been defenseless himself in his inebriated state. It
was just an overwhelming feeling of well-being, that she would never have to
sleep alone again, never have to be content with just fantasy Mulder, whom
she had first conjured up years ago. Maybe someday she would tell him about
that, tell him that how he had appeared to her, a beautiful delusion on
sleepless nights. She knew he dreamt of her at times, already privy to him
crying out her name in his sleep. She'd never asked him about it, hoping
that they weren't exclusively nightmares brought on by danger in their
lives.

     As Scully sat in the meeting, her attention strayed further and further
from the orator's drone. She was getting to the good part, reliving one of
dream Mulder's frequent visits in the night, when she felt something rubbing
up against her foot. Ah jeez, Mulder. It's a hell of a time to start
playing footsie! She glanced to her right and saw that Mulder was
expressionless, listening politely to the boring lecturer. Ah, hell. I'll
play along, see if I can make him break a sweat. She returned his
affections, donning the same humorless meeting face she had by now
perfected, having suffered through countless government seminars.

     The closeness of the room, her previous torrid fantasies, and the
effect Mulder's ministrations were having on her nervous system
bombarded her. She had forgotten how erogenous the bottom of her
feet were; it had been a long time since she'd played this game.
She let out an involuntarily gasp, drawing all eyes her way and
attracting the concern of Assistant Skinner, who thought there was
truly something wrong with her. She felt her cheeks flush and her
head spin, conditions made worse by the realization that Skinner
was on his way around the crowded table to her rescue.

     Where was Mulder? Still seated next to her, with a jackass grin a mile
wide. Anger vanquishing embarrassment, she pursed her lips, narrowed her
steel-blue eyes and somehow managed to rise from her seat and hastily make
her way out. Mulder excused himself and pursued her out to the hallway,
arriving at the Women's Restroom a second too late. Well aware of the deep
shit he was in, Mulder sat down on the bench across from the door.

     Skinner, still concerned about Scully, still mystified about the cause
of her departure, poked his head out the door, saw Mulder on the bench and
returned to the conference room to make apologies for both agents. He made
a short mental note that if this had anything to with their romantic
relationship, he'd have the unenviable task of lecturing two grown adults
about decorum. He was willing to give them the benefit of a doubt on this,
for now.

     In the john, Scully threw cold water on her face, refreshed her makeup
and regained her composure. It really wasn't his fault. We're both stupid
idiots acting like teenagers. And I knew what I was getting into. Mulder
has to be the most immature thirty-seven year old man I've ever met. If I
wasn't in love with him, I'd probably kill him. She emerged from the
restroom, saw Mulder on the bench and threw him her most indignant scowl.

     Sitting down, she said, "Shouldn't we get back to the meeting, Romeo?"

     "Sorry, Scully. But you can't place all the blame on me this time," he
whined.

     "Well, I can try. And I didn't initiate contact, you did."

     "I was bored."

     "So was I, but I kept my thoughts and feet to myself."

     "Well, I just wanted to give you a preview of tonight," he said
leeringly.

     "Mulder, if we don't get back into that conference room and explain
that I had a dizzy spell, there'll be no tonight. And then maybe, maybe
I'll consider letting you back in my apartment."

     "O.K. Alright, I'll behave. Scully?"

     "Yes?"

     "I love you."

     "Oh, brother."

fin