Here's a rather short, somewhat humorous piece that I wrote after one *hellish* experience at the airport. RATING: PG CLASSIFICATION: S, MSR, H? DISCLAIMER: Mulder and Scully belong to CC, 1013, and Fox, not me . SUMMARY: Uh, airline hell--what more can I say ? AIRLINE HELL Danielle Dupre' NOTE: This is a school address. Response time is dependent on the education year. October 21, 1996 9:54 a.m. "Scully?" Dana Scully glanced sharply at her partner, Fox Mulder. How odd--his tone sounded almost apologetic. Scully focused again on the road in front of her, adjusting the wheel slightly to align the car within the broken white lines zipping past. She didn't respond to Mulder, assuming he'd satisfy her curiosity in good time. Over the four years of their partnership, she'd learned to never seem too eager for information or her exasperating partner would keep her in suspense until she was on the verge of physical violence. Mulder shifted in his seat. "Scully, we have to go back." Scully closed her eyes for a moment, remembering belatedly that she was driving. She focused on the road in front of her and tried to keep her tone neutral, "What?" Mulder squirmed, turning his gaze to the red Ford Escort gaining ground in the slow lane. "I forgot something." Mulder absently noticed that the Escort's plates read "RVOEVOM." He focused his analytical mind on determining what the hell the plates said while he waited for Scully's inevitable lecture. "Mulder, we're halfway to the airport, our flight leaves in an hour and a half, and you know the tighter airport security since the TWA crash translates into longer lines. Can't you replace whatever you forgot in Dallas?" Scully tapped her sensibly polish-free nails on the steering wheel of her blue Cavalier. Mulder hesitated, wondering how best to phrase his next sentence, then sighed in defeat, "I forgot my ID." Scully's eyebrow jumped up. Only Mulder. "Your ID? As in the FBI-issue leather wallet that contains your FBI badge and credentials? That ID?" Mulder cringed. How did she do that? Her disapproving tone transported him back to the second grade when he'd poured chocolate milk on Suzy Kutny's head and Ms. Belisle lectured him for ten minutes. Mulder tried to think up a reasonable retort. "Yeah," he muttered, then gave himself a mental slap. Apparently he'd also reverted to the vocabulary of a child. Scully flicked on her blinker and slowed, angling the car across two lanes to the exit ramp. "May I ask how you managed to forget such an important item?" Although she was irritated, Scully still looked forward to what should prove to be an interesting explanation filled with conspiracies, extraterrestrials, and a shady man with a predilection for cigarettes. "I switched jackets for the trip since Dallas is considerably warmer than DC and I forgot to grab my wallet out of my winter trench coat." So much for interesting explanations. Scully paused at the bottom of the ramp, trying to ascertain where she could get back on the highway going the opposite way. Finally, she spotted a sign partially obscured by an overgrown bush and took a left. She entered the highway heading back toward Mulder's apartment and flipped the radio on. Mulder remained silent for the twenty minutes it took to get to Arlington, except for the 'oh' he couldn't contain when he finally figured out that the insolent Ford Escort's plates read MOVEOVR in the rearview mirror. Smartass. Mulder turned his mind back to the situation at hand when the Cavalier pulled into his parking lot. Scully kept the car running while he ran inside, and they were soon back on their way. 10:38 a.m. Twenty minutes later, Scully groaned as her small car crested a slight hill in the road. The brilliant red of hundreds of taillights glowed at them through the grey morning haze. Scully slowed the Cavalier, searching her mind for an alternate route to the airport. "Lots of traffic," she observed. Mulder glanced from the snarl of cars to his frustrated partner. "Lots and lots of traffic." He leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes. Maybe he could catch a nap. Scully inched the car forward, wanting desperately to avoid actually stopping on the highway. Even two miles an hour was better than nothing. No such luck--traffic ground to a halt. Scully glanced over at Mulder, irritated that the possibility of missing their flight didn't even faze him. She jabbed the preprogrammed buttons on her radio, searching for something to occupy her time. Commercial. Sex Pistols. Commercial. News. Rush Limbaugh. Commercial. Howard Stern. Disco. Scully flicked off the radio in disgust. How perfect to be stuck in a traffic jam no more than ten miles from the airport and with only a sleeping person for company. Mulder opened his eyes. He could feel the irritation positively flowing off of his partner and couldn't relax enough to sleep. Mulder sat up straighter, turning to face his partner. "Scully, I think I know a back way to the airport. When you can, get off the highway." Scully turned her head to meet his intense gaze. Did he honestly think she was stupid? Of course she'd get off the highway at the first opportunity. "How the hell am I supposed to get off the damn highway, Mulder? In case you hadn't noticed, traffic is stopped." Scully glanced out the window past him. Her eyes widened and she began to laugh. Mulder stared at his partner as she dissolved into hysterics. What the hell was so funny? Noticing his bewildered look, Scully pointed past Mulder and he turned to look out his window. In the next lane sat an old, faded blue pickup truck filled with some sort of radio equipment. The driver, a middle-aged man in a power suit seemed incongruous with the exterior, but Mulder didn't think the contrast sent Scully into hysterics. Mulder's gaze wandered over the dull paint until he noticed what Scully found so amusing. On the driver's side door, the owner had stenciled words in white block letters. The stenciling read: UFO ABDUCTION OUTREACH. Mulder's eyes lit up as he turned back to Scully. Scully's good humor vanished quickly. "No, Mulder. You're not going to interrogate that man," she protested, but it was too late, he already had the window rolled down. Scully shook her head in disbelief as Mulder caught the man's attention. "Excuse me, sir? I noticed the sign on your door and I wondered if I could ask you a few questions." At the man's enthusiastic response, Scully closed her eyes and groaned. 11:21 a.m. Scully was ready to strangle Mulder. He and Nat Jacobsen were animatedly discussing the psychological effects of prolonged weightlessness, the latest topic in their giddy conversation. Traffic had finally begun to move again, but Mulder had insisted that she try to stay even with Nat's truck. Unfortunately for her, traffic had obstinately cooperated with her demented partner's wishes, and she'd been subjected to the paranoiac ramblings of her partner and his new best friend. Finally, she spotted an opening and gunned the engine. Mulder nearly lost his head as she darted into a tiny opening in front of Nat's truck. "Scully! What are you doing? I was in the middle of a conversation!" Mulder protested, pulling his head and arms back inside the small car. He'd really hit it off with Nat, and it was nice to meet a rational person who believed without a doubt in the existence of extraterrestrials. Nat didn't constantly poke huge holes in Mulder's outlandish theories. "Mulder, you got his card ten minutes ago, it's not like you'll never see him again," Scully kept her eyes on the tantalizing ramp currently blocked by one of those horribly redesigned Ford Tauruses. The heinous taillights taunted her as she inched closer and closer, trying to force the ugly car out of the way. Mulder wondered briefly if Scully was intending to ram the Taurus that was now no more than three inches in front of them before he answered. "But, Scully, he was talking! You didn't even let him finish his sentence." Mulder grabbed the handle above his door as Scully crept closer. He closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable crunch of metal meeting metal, but it never came. The car leapt forward and Mulder's eyes popped open to find the Cavalier speeding happily down the exit ramp. "If he had finished his sentence, he would have pulled forward and my opening would have disappeared." Scully slowed at the bottom of the ramp. "So, which way will get us to the airport in," she checked her watch and groaned, "twenty minutes?" Mulder glanced around him, trying to place where they were. "Uh, Scully, do you have a map in here?" 11:41 p.m. Scully's Cavalier skidded into the parking garage, sliding into the first empty space. Mulder jumped out before Scully shut the car off to grab the bags out of the trunk. They took off at a dead run for the sliding glass doors leading into the terminal. "Scully, do we have tickets or boarding passes?" Mulder panted as they reached the interminably slow automatic doors. "Boarding passes. Bypass the ticket counter," she gasped. Scully disliked running. She worked out in nice controlled environments on civilized machines like the Stairmaster or lifted weights. She had trouble keeping up with Mulder who not only ran regularly, but had a good six inches on her. Scully pounded up to the gate after Mulder had already checked their two suitcases at the counter. Luckily, their flight to Dallas had been delayed twenty minutes and Mulder and Scully boarded without a problem. Still breathing hard, Scully settled into her window seat and stuffed her bag under the seat in front of her, grabbing the latest Patricia Cornwell novel out of the front pocket. Mulder hoisted his garment bag into the overhead compartment, then contorted his lanky frame into the aisle seat next to her. Scully opened her book, instantly engrossed in the world of Kay Scarpetta, a female forensic pathologist who consulted for the FBI, while Mulder pulled out the inflight magazine and flipped through it listlessly. 12:32 p.m. "Mulder, I have a bad feeling about this. We've been sitting here for a half hour." Scully glanced around, trying in vain to ascertain what was keeping the plane at the gate. The captain had twice announced delays, citing a problem with the air conditioner in the back. But Scully felt the air coming on several minutes earlier, and the plane still hadn't left the gate. "I know," Mulder replied, "Maybe today just isn't our day." He shifted in his seat. His tall frame made it uncomfortable for him to sit in these cramped seats for the length of the flight, he didn't want to sit for an hour extra. Mulder gave up on the inane crossword puzzle and replaced the incredibly boring, airline-supplied magazine in the seat pocket in front of him. "Ladies and Gentleman, this is Captain McDonnell speaking," Scully and Mulder glanced at each other. "I'm sorry to announce that flight 403 to Dallas has been canceled--" The groans and expletives from the other passengers drowned out the rest of the Captain's words as Scully wearily reached for her bag. Mulder immediately jumped into the aisle to secure them a place in the line of disgruntled passengers disembarking. He pulled his garment bag down, nearly taking off Scully's head in the process. "Watch it, Mulder," Scully growled. She shoved her paperback into her bag and squeezed into the aisle in front of Mulder. "Why do you think they canceled this flight? It's certainly full enough." "Scully, I heard exactly what you heard. I'm not psychic, you know," Mulder snapped. He instantly regretted his words when Scully's shoulders stiffened, but he didn't apologize verbally. Instead, he rested a hand lightly on her tense shoulder for a moment. Scully recognized Mulder's gesture and turned to give him a small grin. "Just our luck, huh, Mulder?" Mulder's reply was lost as the long line started to move down the narrow row to exit the plane. The apologetic flight attendants stood in first class saying good-bye to the passengers, and Scully resisted the urge to smack their smiling faces. Mulder and Scully rushed up the jetway to the airport, walking side by side to prevent upstarts from passing them, and joined the already long line at the counter to be reticketed. Scully pointed out that only four people were behind the counter to reticket and resigned herself to a long wait. 1:27 p.m. Mulder strained his neck to see past the two people still in front of them. "Scully, how come stuff like this always happens to us?" Scully had regained her good humor once she realized that they were in for a long wait, but Mulder's irritation grew as they slowly crawled toward the counter. She tried to lighten his dark mood. "You're the one who believes in fate, Mulder, maybe this is some sort of an omen about the case in Dallas. Destiny's warning." Mulder smirked at her, "I think I saw a movie named Destiny's Warning once." Scully groaned and bit back a chuckle. She made an effort not to laugh at his corny jokes--he didn't need any encouragement. "Was it one of your special movies, Mulder?" Mulder glanced down at his diminutive partner. Her cheeks were flushed and she actually appeared to be having fun. How odd. Mulder turned his thoughts back to the conversation at hand. "Now, Scully, what have I told you about those movies in my desk drawer--Research." Scully didn't have to reply because they'd finally reached the front of the line. A harried woman with blonde hair and heavy black eyeliner waved them forward. "Is Dallas your final destination?" she asked without preamble. Scully appointed herself spokesperson, "Yes, and we're federal agents en route to a case. We need to be on the first available flight." The airline employee didn't respond, typing furiously on the keyboard in front of her and frowning at the monitor. "I can get you on the 2:15 flight, but it's already delayed until 3:30." The blonde woman looked up, her blood red nails poised over the keys. Scully glanced at the next gate. "Isn't that flight going to Dallas?" Mulder had pointed out the sign over that gate that read Dallas-Ft. Worth during the endless hour they'd spent in line. "Yes, ma'am, but they're already boarded and they're full. The next flight is flight 1013 at 2:17, which is delayed until 3:30." Her voice no longer held the false note of kindness. Scully met Mulder's gaze and he shrugged. "Might as well, Scully." Scully turned back to the impatient woman behind the counter. "Okay, the 3:30 flight's fine." Scully watched in amazement as the woman's brightly polished nails flew over the keyboard. Several minutes later, the blonde woman handed them new boarding passes, "You have to reclaim any bags you checked at baggage claim D as in David and recheck them." Scully's brow shot up dangerously high, and Mulder pulled her away, thanking the airline employee for her help. "Scully, it's the best they can do." 2:03 p.m. Scully settled gratefully into the molded plastic chair and took a large bite of her personal pan pizza. Mulder followed suit, dropping his carry on carelessly at his feet. After running all over the airport reclaiming and rechecking their luggage, Mulder insisted on lunch. Scully's growling stomach prompted her to agree, and she devoured the tiny, yet overpriced pizza almost as quickly as Mulder. Scully rose several minutes later and tossed the empty pizza box and her drink cup into a trash can, then turned back to Mulder. "Okay, Mulder, I'm bored. Entertain me." Mulder, who'd finished his pizza earlier, looked up at his fiery-haired partner with a sly grin. "Ooh, Scully, that's the best offer I've had in a long time." Scully allowed herself a small smile. As soon as the words left her mouth, she knew she'd given Mulder the perfect opportunity for one of his trademark innuendoes. She fought her natural tendency to blush, hoping he didn't know the effect he had on her. Scully absently wondered what Mulder would do if she ever called his bluff. She held Mulder's gaze and pushed that unproductive thought aside. "Seriously, Mulder, tell me a story." Mulder stared at his partner. She'd curled up like a cat on the uncomfortable chairs, using her carry-on as a back rest so she could face him. Did she know that she was incredibly sexy? Mulder finally spoke, "A fairy tale? A funny story? You're not giving me a whole lot to go on here, Scully." Scully considered. She'd love to hear a story about his past, but she couldn't ask him. Those were things he'd have to volunteer. "You decide. I trust you." Mulder paused, considering the message behind her words. "Do you want to know why I became interested in unexplained phenomenon, Scully? I mean, besides Samantha." Scully sat up straighter, "Sure." "The summer that I was ten years old, my parents took Samantha and I up to New Hampshire for a week. We drove up into the mountains and did the touristy things, but on the Summer Solstice, we went to a place called Mystery Hill. It's this unassuming little entranceway into the woods in southern New Hampshire." Mulder grinned, lost in his memories, "Anyway, there are these megalithic stones there, erected approximately 4000 years ago. There's a cluster of cave-like structures, which were probably houses and gathering places, and a wall that delineates true south. Then, the most amazing thing is, Scully, there are stones erected about five hundred yards out in several directions that line up exactly with the sun's path for summer solstice, winter solstice, and equinox. It's unbelievable, and no one knows who erected the stones. Standing there, watching the sun set onto this huge granite rock that some unknown ancient people had positioned, I had this epiphany of sorts. I wanted to know who erected the stones and why." Mulder paused, trying to sort out his memories. "I felt this kinship to them--they'd documented what they must have considered to be a unexplained phenomenon--and I decided that day that I wanted to be an archeologist." Mulder laughed softly at his long-forgotten ambition. Scully absorbed this insight into Mulder's complicated psyche, then reached out and grasped his hand. "Mulder, why'd you decide to go into psychology?" Mulder considered her question carefully, his hazel eyes darkening slightly. "Actually, that's directly related to my sister's abduction. I watched the police fumbling around--Chilmark is tiny--they had no idea how to investigate a disappearance. I didn't want any family to have to go through what we went through. After I grew interested in law enforcement, I became fascinated with criminal profiling, and I became pretty good at it." Scully rolled her eyes. Understatement of the year. She opened her mouth to retort, but the crackle of the intercom interrupted her. "Ladies and gentleman, I'm sorry to inform you that flight 1013 to Dallas has been delayed until 4:30. The airport in Dallas/Fort Worth is closed right now, due to weather. I'll announce more information as it becomes available." Scully groaned and glanced at her partner. Mulder had lowered his head into his hands, closing his eyes tiredly. He opened one eye to look at her, "Your turn, Scully. Tell me a story." 3:41 p.m. Scully's eyes snapped into focus suddenly. She'd been staring out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the empty spot at their gate for the last fifteen minutes. At some point, she'd apparently fixed her focus on the middle distance and retreated into her thoughts, because the large white airplane taxiing to the gate took a moment to register. Scully jumped out of her seat, wincing as her foot began to wake up with pins and needles, and crossed to the large window. After ensuring that the plane was actually going to park at their gate, she returned to her sleeping partner. "Mulder," Scully placed a hand on his shoulder, wondering briefly if he'd be sore from sleeping with his head as such an odd angle. Mulder's eyes blinked open, and he straightened quickly. "Ow," Mulder gasped as his neck muscles protested the sudden movement. "What's the matter, Scully?" Mulder massaged the muscles in his neck. Scully turned him toward the window and stood behind him, placing her hand over his on his sore neck. "We have a plane, finally," Scully answered and started to massage the taut muscles. Mulder dropped his ineffective hand and let his head loll forward as Scully began her ministrations. God, she should carry a license for those hands. Scully's fingers pushed and pulled the tension out of his abused neck, forcing the muscles to relax. Mulder's eyes drifted closed when Scully's hands traveled to his shoulders and upper back. Where did she learn to give such a killer massage? Mulder opened his mouth to ask, but Scully cut him off. "I used to give my dad massages all the time. He had a bad shoulder--an old injury--so I learned how to give killer massages at a young age." Mulder wondered briefly if he'd actually spoken his thoughts aloud. She had that uncanny ability to answer his questions before he asked them and he often wondered if his Scully wasn't psychic in her own right. Wouldn't that be ironic? Here he was, searching desperately for some evidence of paranormal phenomenon, and his skeptical partner possessed ESP. Mulder sighed, deciding he didn't have the energy to think just now. "You're amazing, Scully," he mumbled. Scully's eyebrow jumped up at Mulder's words. Amazing? She couldn't stop the silly grin from surfacing as she concentrated on her hands. Scully abandoned her massage when the doors opened and passengers began streaming out of the jetway. Mulder groaned at the loss of her magic, but soon focused his attention on the people deplaning. "Scully, does this mean. . ?" Scully smiled at him, one of her real smiles, and Mulder had to concentrate on his breathing. "Yes, Mulder, we have a plane." 4:32 p.m. Mulder watched sadly as Scully continued down the aisle toward the back of the plane. Since they'd been last minute additions to this flight, he and Scully had been separated. Mulder glanced at the old woman seated in his row and sighed. Mulder settled into his aisle seat and gave himself a silent chastising for forgetting headphones or a book. The kindly woman next to him, leaned over and nearly shouted in his ear, "Is this your first flight, young man?" Mulder closed his eyes in despair. It was going to be a long flight. Scully glanced back over her shoulder once and caught Mulder's forlorn look. She smiled to herself, then continued onto her seat. Grimacing, she settled into the middle seat in between a harmless looking man about her age and a nervous young woman. Scully gave them each a polite smile and pulled her book from her carry on, determined to finish her book about a female forensic pathologist. Who'd have thought anyone would choose such a character for a work of fiction? Scully pushed her thoughts aside and settled in for the three and a half hour flight to Dallas. 7:12 p.m. "Ladies and Gentlemen, this is Captain Lampell speaking. Just a quick update for all you sports fans, the Cowboys are leading the Patriots 21 to 7." Scully woke up at the Captain's voice, only to groan when she realized he didn't have anything pertinent to say. She rolled her head slowly to work the kinks out of her neck. During her stretching, she accidentally made eye contact with the man next to her. He smiled at her. "Not a sports fan, I'm guessing," he said dryly. Scully rolled her eyes and smiled, "Good guess." "I must admit, I never understood why they chose football to keep us appraised of. I mean, they never announce who's leading the golf tournament." The man's eyes crinkled into a smile and Scully found herself warming to her seatmate. Mulder leaned away from his seatmate, nearly losing his head to the food cart as the flight attendants pushed it past him. He sighed and tried to frame the appropriate responses to the woman next to him, but it was hard. "Are you listening, young man?" Mulder nodded quickly, and the woman continued her litany of aches and pains, concluding with a mini-dissertation on the evil ways of doctors. 9:48 p.m. Mulder'd never been so glad to feel a plane touch down in his entire life. His hands hovered over his seatbelt latch as he willed the plane to taxi to the gate faster. After doctors, his seatmate, Doris, had covered lawyers and politicians, and now she'd started in on the merits of "that dear, pudgy fellow" Rush Limbaugh. Mulder was about ready to tear his hair out by the roots, but the end was finally in sight. Mulder slipped a finger under the seatbelt latch as he felt the plane slow. Since he was seated on the aisle, he couldn't see that they were nowhere near the gate. His first indication that his nightmare was not over came in the form of the Captain's voice, "Ladies and Gentlemen, this is Captain Lampell and I'm sorry to inform you that there are no empty gates as of now. We're going to have to sit tight for a few minutes until the tower can get a few of the departing planes on their way. Sorry for the inconvenience." Scully sighed in annoyance at the Captain's announcement. Her shoulders tightened as she contemplated another hour in her cramped quarters. Mark, her seatmate turned to her and smiled, "In a hurry?" Scully relaxed back into her seat, "Not really." 10:13 p.m. Mulder bolted from his seat, nearly running down the narrow aisle, ignoring the startled looks of the passengers. His eyes wild, Mulder searched for Scully's red hair. She'd been near the back somewhere. Finally, Mulder heard the unmistakable sparkling sound of Scully's laughter. He skidded to a halt in the aisle, giving the curious passengers even more to speculate over. Mulder cocked his head, trying to ascertain that it was, indeed, his partner, the serious and professional Dana Katherine Scully, MD laughing like a college freshman. Yup. No doubt about it. Mulder's face darkened as he traced the sound to its source to find Scully laughing with her charming seatmate, a man who bore a startlng resemblance to that Don Johnson guy who'd starred in that vapid cop show in the eighties. Mulder stood there, glowering and towering over the frightened woman in the aisle seat until Scully finally noticed his presence. "Mulder," Scully exclaimed, her eyes widening at his disheveled appearance. "What's wrong?" Mulder simply stared at her, unable to articulate the hell he'd been through with the old woman who wanted to set him up with her twenty-three year old granddaughter. "Nothing," he finally answered, "I was just bored." Scully appraised him silently, taking in his haunted eyes, then unbuckled her seatbelt and stood, almost upright under the low overhang of the overhead compartments. The nervous young woman scooted out of the way and then Scully was there, standing nose to chest with her partner. "Mulder, you look sick." She stretched a hand up to check his forehead for fever, but Mulder shied away. "I'm fine, Scully. I just needed to get away . . . " Mulder trailed off as he heard it. The sound of Doris. Chancing a quick glance over his shoulder, he saw the plump old woman in the floral print dress making her way down the aisle towards him. "Quick, Scully. Hide me!" Scully's brow furrowed as her tall partner tried to duck behind her. "Mulder, you're being ridiculous!" Mulder snorted, then his hands let go of her and she turned to see his back disappearing into the tiny restroom. With a confused look, Scully turned at an insistent tug on her suit jacket. "Excuse me, sweetie, but I saw you talking to that dear young man. Where did he disappear to?" Scully looked into the woman's face and realization dawned. Mulder must have been harassed by this woman the whole flight. Holding in her untimely giggles, Scully shrugged her shoulders, "I don't know. He disappeared." The woman stared at her for a moment, as if weighing her words, then spoke, "I don't know what happened. I think he must be sick. We were having a perfectly nice conversation about that dear little man--is his name Nick?--you know, the leader of Congress." Scully's eyebrow shot up to her hairline, "You mean Newt Gingrich?" Doris smiled, "Yes, yes. That's his name. And then that dear young man just jumped up and ran down the aisle." Scully patted Doris's shoulder, biting the inside of her cheek hard to keep from laughing, "I'm sure he just felt sick. He'll be fine. Why don't you go sit down in case a gate opens soon?" Doris agreed and turned to shuffle back to her seat. Scully finally let out her laughter as she made her way down the aisle to the bathroom that hid Mulder. She knocked once, "Mulder, it's me." The door opened quicker than she expected and a strong hand yanked her inside, "Is she gone, Scully?" The accordian-shaped door snapped shut behind Scully and she found herself pressed intimately against her partner. "Mulder, what the hell are you doing?" she hissed. Mulder gave her a grin, "I'm not going back out there until she's gone." Scully shifted in the small room, trying to distance herself from her partner, but found it impossible in the confined space, "Mulder, she went back to her seat already. Now, can you please open the door?" Mulder winced. There was no mistaking the irritation in Scully's tone, but he categorically refused to face Doris again. Besides, having Scully's tiny body pressed up against him more than made up for the hell he'd endured on the flight. Groping for an excuse to keep her in there, Mulder spoke without thinking, "Come on, Scully. Haven't you ever wanted to join the mile-high club?" Scully's eyebrow jumped up to her hairline, "Mulder," she answered dryly, "We're on the ground." "So?" Scully rolled her eyes, "So, it doesn't count if we're on the ground!" Scully realized too late that her statement made it sound as if she'd agree if they were in the air. Blushing slightly, she turned her face to the side. Mulder felt the conversation swaying into dangerous territory, but after the harrowing day they'd had, he didn't have the sense to censor his words, "So, is that a tacit agreement to join the illustrious club on the flight back to DC?" Scully's gaze snapped up to meet her partner's. "Mulder, you can't be serious," she answered incredulously. Mulder lowered his face to hers, hovering mere millimeters above her lips, "Do I sound like I'm joking?" Closing the distance, Mulder placed a soft kiss on her full lips. Scully stared up at her partner. This was too surreal. She was having a dream. In a minute she'd wake up in her nice warm bed. There was no way Mulder would make a pass at her in an airplane bathroom! Scully reached down and pinched her thigh, hard. "Scully, what are you doing?" "This whole day has got to be a dream," she answered as she reached behind her back, trying to yank open the door. "A dream or a nightmare?" Mulder asked as he stilled her questing hand. Scully looked up at his concerned face and started to laugh. Mulder watched his partner in confusion as she collapsed into hysterics. Slowly, his own laughter bubbled to the surface and he joined her. Mulder and Scully held each other and giggled madly until the plane moved. The unexpected jerk propelled them into the cabinet that held the sink and their laughter grew more unrestrained. They spread their feet on the floor, trying to remain upright as the plane taxied to the gate. As the plane slowed, Mulder and Scully began to overcome their giddiness and straighten their faces. Mulder reached for the door, but a sharp knock stilled his movements. "Excuse me, is there anyone in there?" Mulder and Scully glanced at each other, mortified. After a moment, Mulder answered, "Yeah, I'll be right out." "Sir, the passengers are deplaning now, " said the voice. Scully's grin grew as Mulder shrugged, "Okay. Just a second." A quick, whispered conversation later, and Mulder pulled the door open. Glancing around to make sure none of the passengers waiting impatiently in the aisle were looking, Mulder turned back and motioned to Scully. Scully poked her head out and then quickly moved to stand beside him. As the accordian door slid shut behind them, Mulder heard a "Tsk, tsk," from behind him. Closing his eyes briefly in defeat, he shook his head before meeting Scully's questioning look. In unison they turned to face the lone witness of their indiscretion. Doris stood in the tail of the plane with a flight attendant. Her once kindly face was twisted into a scowl of disapproval. To his dismay, Mulder felt his face redden in response to the silent accusation he saw on her face. Glancing down, he took in Scully's flushed face and turned them away from Doris. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to the delicate skin below Scully's ear before whispering, "Next time, Scully, we've got to at least have something to be ashamed of." Scully tilted her head, giving him better access to her sensitive skin. "Next time, Mulder, we're taking the train." THE END Comments welcome at winema@mail.utexas.edu, and yes, everything in this story happened to me in one *hellish* day, except, of course, being seduced in an airplane bathroom by a man that gorgeous . ~~~~~~~Winema@mail.utexas.edu~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Danielle A. Dupre'~~~~~~~~ Only thing to do is jump over the moon ~Maureen "Rent"