Title:  Hooky
Author: Alicia K  
Rating:  PG-13, for a couple of naughty thoughts.
Category:  Already established MSR   If you're looking for angst, it ain't in here, folks.
Spoilers:  As if!
Summary: I'm looking at the word "hooky" and thinking that it looks wrong.  Have I 
spelled it wrong?  Is it even a word?  Does that ever happen to you?  I hate when that 
happens.

Disclaimer: You may think that these are the Mulder and Scully owned by Chris Carter, 
but that's where you're wrong.  His Scully doesn't have a desk, but my Scully does.  
Plus, my Mulder and Scully are going to get romantic.  He refuses to let Mulder and 
Scully share anything but the occasional touch or longing gaze.  So clearly, we're talking 
about two entirely different sets of characters here.

Feedback:  Thank you sir, may I have another?  Spartcus1@msn.com

Archive:  Certainly.  Just ask, and I promise I'll respond with a resounding "Yes!"

XXXXXXXX

"Hooky"
by Alicia K  

Mulder couldn't clearly recall when he first started wishing that the basement office had 
windows.  It was probably within the first few hours of working on his very first X-File, 
but it was difficult to say.

Today alone, he had wished that the basement office had windows about fifteen times.  
Give or take.  He looked over at Scully, who was staring wistfully at the wall where a 
window might have been, had their office not been in the basement.

He glanced at his watch; it was only eleven-thirty.  The much-too-chipper meteorologist 
on TV that morning had predicted that the temperature would soar into the upper sixties 
by late morning, possibly even into the seventies by mid afternoon.

With an audible sigh, he closed his eyes and dreamily pictured himself romping barefoot 
through the grass on the Mall, the late March sun warm and new on his winter pale face.  
He envisioned himself turning, reaching a hand towards Scully, who would say, "For 
God's sake, Mulder, put your shoes on before you slice your feet open on a broken crack 
pipe."

Well, that's what she probably would say, but he tried again.  This time, his daydream 
Scully smiled brilliantly at him and let him pull her into his arms as they kissed and 
kissed.

He opened his eyes.  "Scully?"

"Hm?"  Her bored gaze rested on him.  

"Can we have class outside today?"

Her eyes shifted to the stack of files on her desk, then moved pointedly to the stack of 
files on his desk.  "No, Mulder."

Mulder pouted for five minutes, finally looking up hopefully when Scully tossed the file 
noisily back into the wire basket.  "All right, let's go."

"Really?"

She stood and shrugged into her light blue jacket.  "Really.  Get me out of here, Mulder.  
You win."

"Hot damn!" he exclaimed with a triumphant smile.

The door to the basement office closed behind them with a satisfying slam.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

They blinked against the bright sunlight like moles emerging from their underground 
dwellings.  Wordlessly, they both reached for and donned their sunglasses.  "Wow," 
Scully said.  "I can't believe it."

"What's that?" Mulder asked as they started down the sidewalk.

"The weatherman was actually right."

"Maybe we should send him some flowers," he quipped, and was rewarded with an 
answering chuckle.

"Maybe sunscreen would be more appropriate."

"If this warming trend continues, I think hot pants would be in order."  That got an actual 
laugh, and he added, "Unless it's the guy from channel four."

"What's wrong with the guy from channel four?"

"He's got a mustache.  Guys with facial hair shouldn't wear hot pants.  You hungry?"

"Always."

"What are you in the mood for?"  She threw him a look that stopped him in his tracks.  "I 
meant, what do you want to eat?"  She threw him another leer that, had he been a lesser 
man, would have dropped him to his knees.

Pleased with her feminine wiles, Scully chuckled and checked out their surroundings.  
"Come on," she announced, stepping into the street.

"Where are we going?" he asked, following blindly.

She turned to give him an inspired smile.  "Crazy!  Wanna come?"  

"Scully, I'd follow you anywhere."  

She grabbed his hand, and they darted across the street to an ice cream vendor, laughing 
as they weaved through the traffic.

XXXXXXXX

After a decidedly enjoyable time spent watching each other slowly lick at their ice cream 
cones, Mulder looked down at Scully.  She was delicately wiping remnants of strawberry 
from her mouth.  Mulder suddenly wanted to clean her off with his tongue.

Instead, he reached for her hand.  "So what now?" she asked, letting him enfold her hand 
in his.

"Now we really play hooky."

"I don't know of any fishin' holes around here, Huck."

"That's okay, Becky.  We can make do."

They staked out a nice spot beneath a tree.  "Becky," she muttered, checking to make 
sure there were no hidden surprises in the soft grass.  "I never pictured myself as a 
Becky."

Mulder shrugged off his suit coat and spread it gallantly on the ground for her to sit upon.  
"Maybe with some pigtails, you could pull it off."

She waited for him to sit down and lean back on his hands before lying on the makeshift 
blanket, resting her head on his thigh.  "I've told you before, Mulder, I refuse to act out 
your sick little fantasies."

Mulder watched the lunchtime crowd thin as the more dedicated government employees 
trudge back to their dreary cubicles and offices.

He smiled.

XXXXXXXX

"Did you play hooky a lot in school, Scully?"

She kicked off her shoes, stretching her small, stocking-clad feet out beside his large, 
bare ones.  "No."  She wiggled her toes, wondering if she could get away with taking her 
nylons off.  "Even the last day of my senior year, when I tried to be late to each class on 
purpose, I was still early."

"Oh, you were such a geek."

She sighed her lament.  "Yes, I was.  I was a good girl."

He tilted his head down to her.  "So what happened?"

She sat up, looking around to make sure no one was watching.  No one was.  They had 
the area practically to themselves.  "Mulder, if you're implying that I've become a bad 
girl . " she began, reaching beneath her skirt to unhook her garters.  Mulder gaped as 
she slowly slid them down her legs.  "I certainly haven't done anything to support that 
theory."  She balled up the stockings and shoved them in her jacket pocket.

"Scully," Mulder growled beside her as she ran her naked feet through the cool grass 
happily.  "You're wearing garters?"

She flicked her eyes up to his.  "I was.  And I would still be, if you hadn't planted these 
ideas in my head.  I'd still be inside, working, with all of my clothes intact."

"That's definitely less fun."

"Agreed."

"So you don't think you've done anything that would label you as a bad girl?"

"Not recently, no."

He half turned to look at her incredulously.  "Have you forgotten about that little incident 
in the office last week?"

She set her mouth in a prim line.  "I place the blame entirely on you."

"Me?" he cried.  "What did I do?  You're the one who ended up on your knees in front of 
my chair!"

"I'm well aware of that, Mulder," she said rationally.  "But had you worn your contacts 
instead of your glasses, I would have been able to control myself."

"Hm."  Mulder swallowed hard, remembering the feel of Scully's warm, velvet mouth 
closing around his cock.  "Note to self: glasses irresistible."  He shifted beside her, his 
arm brushing lightly against hers.   The hairs on his forearm rose at the contact.  "That 
was bad, Scully.  You broke your own rule."

"Didn't count.  It was after five."

"So does that mean I can return the favor sometime when the five o'clock whistle 
blows?"

She smiled enigmatically.  "We'll see."

XXXXXXXX

"Mulder, I don't think I can sit here much longer.  My ass is getting sore."

"Want me to rub it?"

In lieu of a spoken response, she stood and smoothed her hands over the back of her skirt.  
She did it again, slower, for Mulder's benefit.  "Let's go somewhere."

"Like where?  A movie?"

"No, that would entail more sitting.  Let's take a walk or something."

Mulder pulled his shoes and socks back on, and Scully slipped her bare feet into her 
pumps with a tiny grimace.  "You can leave them off.  We can walk in the grass."

"I'd probably slice my feet open on a broken crack pipe."

Mulder smiled, slinging his jacket over his shoulder.

They walked in companionable silence; each lost in their own thoughts.

"I love spring," Scully said as they reached the Washington Monument.

Mulder, whose thoughts were still on Scully's naughty office performance, blinked twice 
to clear his head.  "You do?" he asked dumbly, for lack of anything better to say.  
"Why?"

"Because it's spring.  It's new, and fresh, and warm, and wet.  Spring makes me happy."

"Then I declare every day from here on to be a beautiful spring day."

"That's touching, Mulder.  You'd alter the rotation and revolution of the earth around the 
sun for little old me?"

"Oh yeah.  Nothing to it.  Superman reversed the rotation of the earth for Lois Lane, you 
know."

"He did?"

"Don't you remember?  She was killed in the earthquake, and he turned back time so she 
would be alive again."

"Very thoughtful of him."

"Yeah.  There's some things you just can't say with a simple card."

"That Superman," she said absently. "He cared enough to send the very best."

"And so do I.  I surreptitiously check every card I get to make sure it's a Hallmark.  If it 
doesn't have that seal, it isn't worth my spit."

"How gracious of you."

"I know.  Here, I'll send you a Hallmark card right now."  He tipped his head up to the 
sun, deep in thought.  "Dear Scully.  I'm ever so glad that spring makes you warm and 
wet.  Mulder."

"That's not what I said."

"Okay, how about this.  Dear Scully.  I'm ever so glad that I make you warm and wet.  
How's that?"

"Closer to the truth, although I think you may want to hold off on sending that resume in 
to Hallmark."

He sighed.  "You wound me so, Scully."  She stopped, raising herself up on tiptoe to 
plant a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.  "Still bleeding."  She kissed him again, a 
little longer.  "I think I'll have a bruise in the morning," he said, bending to meet her in 
the next kiss, feeling her lips part beneath his.

It was a kiss that made him think of spring -- fresh, exciting, blossoming.  His arm 
slipped around her shoulders, pressing her close, her body soft and welcoming against 
his.

When they finally parted, Scully looked up at him with glistening, plump lips, bright 
eyes, and flushed cheeks.  "That was definitely worth playing hooky for."

He put his arm around her shoulders and steered her back in the direction they had come.  
"I don't want to get caught out here without my hall pass."

"So what do you suggest?" she asked as they began the walk back to their cars.

"I suggest that we go to your place, make wonderful love the rest of the afternoon, then 
go find a good Mexican place for dinner."

"What qualifies as a good Mexican place?"

"Big ass burritos and great tequila."

"And what qualifies as wonderful love?"

He smiled down at her.  "We do, Scully."

And for the rest of the afternoon, they proceeded to prove it, as the warm March air blew 
softly through the open windows.

Fini.
 
Ok, here's the thing.  I set out to write this as a smut story (Happy Smut, another new 
category).  Didn't quite end up that way.  It just seemed like this nice, sweet (gack!) little 
story, and a steamy sex scene (or two or three) just didn't seem to fit.  What can I say?  It 
was the first 70-degree day here in Wisconsin, and I skipped out of work early.  There's 
nothing like the feeling of tooling down the street in your car, windows down, Garbage 
blasting from the stereo.  Ahhhhh .. 
 
Fear not, dear readers.  I still have plenty o'smut left in me, and will continue to dole it 
out.

James: "When did you start smoking?"
Donna: "I smoke every once in a while.  Helps relieve tension."
James: "When did you get so tense?"
Donna: "When I started smoking."

		--"Twin Peaks"