Interlude at Motel 6
by Leyla Harrison

This piece is a short thing I thought of last night when I couldn t sleep.
It's rated PG-13, I guess, for sexual situations...nothing
consummated...(sigh).  It does contain romance material between Mulder and
Scully, so if your stomach turns at the thought of that (and let s all say
it in unison now,  and what s the matter with you, anyhow?  then you
should stop reading now.  There s really no other plot.  As usual, all
characters do not belong to me - they re the creation of Chris Carter.

****

"We could get him this time," Mulder says, sure of himself.  He studies
the map under the magnifier. "We could pick him up in..." Mulder checks
the map again.   Great Bend.  We could get a helicopter and-- 

 OK, whatever.   Scully s answer is flat.  Mulder doesn t notice.

 So if we leave now, we can catch up with him,  Mulder says, folding the
map up.

 OK,  Scully says, flat again, but this time Mulder notices.  He looks up.
 His partner is sitting across the room from him.

 What s wrong, Scully?  Mulder asks, confused.  He has no idea what is
happening to his partner.  She doesn t answer him.   Scully?   Her eyes
are focused, fixed on a point high on the wall.  Over his shoulder.

They are in a motel room, in Scully s room.  Mulder s is adjoining to
hers.  It is one of a million motel rooms that they have patronized since
they started working together.  Two double beds, small desk, nightstand,
TV, window with the thick curtain hanging down over it, letting in little
or no light from the outside.  

The beds are made.  Mulder is sitting on the edge of one of them.  Scully
is sitting at the desk, her laptop up and running, plugged into the outlet
by the floor nearby.  Her reading glasses are on the desk next to the
computer.  A few files with papers falling out of them are on the floor
nearby.  The desk is very small.

 Scully?  he asks again, this time softening his voice.  He has just
noticed the dark cirlces under her eyes.   Did you get any sleep last
night? 

She shakes her head, not speaking and not looking at him.  She finally
looks at him.   What is this, the inquisition, Mulder?  she asks.  Her
tone is sharp, too sharp.   Does it matter? 

 You haven t slept well in days,  he guesses, recalling hearing her move
around in the adjoining room to his the previous few nights long after she
had told him she was going to sleep.

Scully stands up, pacing the length of the room in a few steps.   What
does it have to do with anything? 

 You need sleep, Scully. 

 The caffiene is keeping me awake. 

 But you re going to be a jittering wreck in another day or two,  Mulder
says.   Maybe you should stay here an extra day, you know, try to catch up
on your sleep.  You can meet me in Great Bend. 

She stops pacing to shoot him a deadly serious look.   No, Mulder.  I can
handle myself.  I know what my limits are.  I m fine, I ve told you that a
hundred times.   

Mulder stands, goes to her.  Puts a hand on her shoulder, gently.  She
looks at the floor, shrugs his hand away.   Why can t you sleep, Scully? 
What s on your mind? 

You, she thinks, but she doesn t answer.  She won t look at Mulder.

 Scully, look at me.   

He takes another step closer.  She takes a step back, unconsciously,
almost.  She isn t accustomed to being that close to him.  Not like this. 
Not when her defenses are down.  Not when she is unable to control her
emotions, as she feels she is unable to do at this point because she is
tired.  One close look at her face and he might know.  He might see what
she wants.  That she needs him, as more than her partner, as more than her
friend.

Mulder steps closer again, this time taking Scully s arm, making it
impossible to avoid the closeness unless she pulls away from him.

He is holding her forearm tight enough to feel the pulse in it.  It is
beating quickly.  He can feel the fear in her, although he doesn t know
what has caused it.  He doesn t know what has happened to her, although he
knows that it is something bad.

 Why can t you talk to me?  he asks, very softly.  There is no need to
speak in normal tones when they are this close.  Close enough for her to
feel his breath on her face.

I can t, Mulder, she thinks.  I can t even explain it to myself.

She wants to pull away from him.  She is struck by a memory, of the time
that he rescued her from Donnie Pfaster, when he was almost this close to
her.  When she was trying to make him believe the old lie, that she was
fine, that she was strong, the she needed nothing from him, no support, no
emotional closeness.  She recalls feeling unable to help it anymore,
letting herself fall into his arms, letting him comfort her, hold her. 
She recalls how safe she felt.  How loved she felt.

She looks at him.  His eyes are full of concern.   Scully, what s the
matter?  he asks.   You know you can talk to me. 

But they both know that there are no words at this moment.  The closeness
has stirred something in both of them, something that they have chosen to
hide, to push away for a multitude of reasons.  Mulder doesn t let Scully
s arm go.  With his other hand, he brushes a lock of hair from her cheek,
feeling the softness of her skin.  

He can smell her, the mixture of perfume and shampoo and woman-scent that
is Scully to him.  She looks for a moment so frightened and tired that he
wants to take her in his arms, to hold her, to banish her fears and
exhuastion.  He wants to touch her bare skin, not just her cheek, to feel
that smoothness against his own body.  His thoughts are consumed with the
fantasies that he has carried with him for years now.  They are emotional
and physical fantasies, the stuff in Mulder s head.  The strongest is that
he wants to be part of her.  To literally be a part of her.  To hold her
close.  To have her let him in, and for him to receive her in the same
way.  It is, in his mind, a combination of sexual and emotional.

Mulder can see now that there are tears brimming in Scully s eyes.  He can
see that she is holding them back with whatever reserves she has left. 
She is fighting to not show him how she feels.  But at the same time she
knows that it is too late.  That he has already seen right into her, right
through her.

At that moment, Mulder sees Scully blink, and in that second, he sees her
fears.  He sees the pain.  

He leans close to her, her mouth near her ear, the side of her face. 
Scully feels her stomach flip over, in fear and in anticipation.  She can
feel him, warm breath on her skin, his lips, warm against her neck,
kissing her there.  He wraps his free hand around her waist, holding her
to him carefully.

Scully lets her body ease closer to his until she feels as if he is
supporting her full weight against him.  He lets go of her arm.  She
clings to his shoulder with her now free hand, for support, for
confirmation that this is actually occurring.  He is moving his mouth
along the base of her neck, leaving a slow trail of hot kisses as he goes.
 His other hand is in her hair, moving down her neck and her shoulder,
down her back, tracing the pattern of the bra he can feel under her shirt.

Scully sighs softly.  He is pulling, gently, at the edges of the shirt
that are tucked into her jeans, pulling.  Succeeding in releasing it from
her waist.  He slips a cool hand under the shirt, onto her back, tracing
patterns there with his fingers.  Scully clutches at him tighter.  She can
feel herself getting aroused, excited.  His hand moves to the clasp the
the bra, moving it, toying with it.   Mulder still has his face buried in
her hair, in her neck.

Scully pulls herself away to look at his face.  He has both arms around
her back, holding her to him.  He is breathing harder, his face tight, his
eyes wet.   Mulder,  she whispers to him, soothing, calming.  She strokes
his face, wiping the path of the tears with her fingers.  They have gotten
so good at silent communication.  The can both see and know from the other
s eyes what they are feeling.

He leans in to kiss her.  His lips meet her chin instead, hesitating
there.  Scully closes her eyes, tilting her head back slightly, feeling
his mouth, his lips, on her chin, her cheeks, her eyes, at the corners of
her mouth, dancing there lightly, continuing to torture her by his
unhurried exploration of her mouth.  He is placing light kisses on her
lips, around them, never fully quite on them.

Mulder finally moves in, kissing her full on the lips, and when he does,
Scully is ready.  Her lips are already parted, waiting for him.  He
descends on her gently at first, knowing that he does not want to hurt
her, to scare her.  He feels her yielding to him, parting her lips more,
letting him truly kiss her.  And when he does, it sets free the passion
that both of them have been holding back for so long.  The kiss goes from
gentle to fiery in seconds.  They are both gasping, sighing, and when
Mulder slips his tongue between Scully s lips, darting it in for only a
second, combining that with a simultaneous movement of his hand to cup her
breast, Scully moans aloud.

The phone rings.

Both Mulder and Scully jump apart from each other, Mulder looking to the
floor and Scully straightening her hair nervously.   I ll get it,  she
says, moving to the phone, clearing her throat before she answers.  
Hello?   There is a pause.   No, I m sorry, you must have the wrong room. 
 She hangs up the phone.  

Scully s lips are dry.  She knows from a stolen glance at Mulder s bowed
head that they are thinking the same thing.  That if that phone hadn t
rung...

I would have made love to you, Scully, he is thinking, right here in this
motel room.  I would have made love to you without any doubts, without any
hesitation.  I don t care about being professional, not anymore.  Not now
that I know that you love me.

I would have let you take me right here, Mulder, she is thinking, on the
floor, on the bed, right now, because the feelings I have had for you can
t be hidden after that kiss.  I don t care what Skinner would do if he
found out.  All I care about is you, Mulder, especially now that I know
that you love me.

Mulder clears his throat nervously.   So... 

 Mulder, we should get going,  she says, finding the strength to go back
to normal before he can.   If we want to make it to Great Bend in three
hours. 

She heads back for the desk, shutting off her laptop and packing up the
files.  Mulder comes to stand behind her, very close to her.  She stops
what she is doing, closes her eyes at the sensation of him being that
close to her again.   Scully, about what just happened...  he says.

She turns around.   I m not going to tell you that it shouldn t have
happened, Mulder,  she says softly.   And I m not going to tell you that I
m sorry it happened. 

 Me either,  he answers without hesitation.

 But I do think we should wait until we get back home to discuss it,  she
says.   We have a suspect to pick up. 

Mulder nods.    Would you want it to happen again?   Please, Scully, he
thinks.  Please.

She looks at him, almost a foot taller than her, and imagines for the
millionth time how wonderful it would be to wake up with him every
morning, to go home with him every night.  To have him touch her in the
ways she has fantasized about.  To be with him, body and soul, as she has
wanted for so long.

 Yes,  she murmurs, and smiles at him.   And I want more,  she adds,
blushing.  

 Me too,  he answers.

END