Pillow Talk 
Hey Kids--

Okay, you asked for it and here it is: a fanfic based on the bedroom
scene in "Rain King" (or *lack* thereof should I say?:)),you got it!:)
Like a bunch of you out there, I thought they (Surfer Boy and his
gang) could've taken a *lot* more liberties with this scene. But then
again, that's what fanfic is for, right?:):):)

Title: "Pillow Talk"
Author: Rebecca Perlow
Spoilers: "Rain King" "Home" "Bad Blood"--a slu of them
Rating: PG-13 (nothing sexy here--okay *some* sexy 
        stuff but not *dirty* sexy--maybe next time:)
Summary: A continuation of the "bedroom" scene in  "Rain King". Where
*did* Mulder sleep that night? I didn't see a *cot* anywhere!:)

Disclaimer:  Mulder and Scully--our beloved priest and
           priestess of pop culture, do not belong to
           me, nor anybody associated with me, though 
           when I write fanfic, I like to pretend they
           do:):):) They belong to Chris Carter, Ten-
           Thirteen Prod. and the Fox Network, or some
           "genderbender" of the three, and are being 
           used without permission (I lost your number
           in my rolodex Chris--please don't sue me!
           How good would it look suing a fifteen year
           old girl anyway?? Besides, all you'd get is
           about 50 electric blue bras and a pair of 
           thigh-high boots.)

Okay, 'nuff talkin'--on with the show!!:):):)

***********************************************************

Cool View Motor Court
August 14, 1998
10:30 P.M.

Scully released a sigh of relief as she pulled into a parking space.

It was all set. The next plane leaving Kroner, Kansas was tomorrow at
10 AM and she and Mulder would be on it.

Thank God.

Not that this place was any worse than some of the cases they'd been
assigned to--or signed up for in this case. No, they *technically*
signed up for this case, they couldn't since Spender'd been officially
assigned to the X-Files. Why exactly *were* they here? Oh the hell
with it, she didn't care. It was still a damn sight better than Home,
Pennsylvania.

'Great. Had to think about the Peacock Brothers, you're going to have
some lovely dreams tonight, Dana.'

Dana?! He never even *knew* your first name!

Oh that was an even better one! Though not as gruesome as inbreeding,
a threatened lawsuit that she was *technically* responsible for was
enough to tie her poor stomach into fishermen's knots. Not to mention
vampires with fake fangs. And buck teeth. Or not.

A downright humorous experience now that she looked back on it. She
felt a chuckle rise in the back of her throat.

Still, she didn't want to look back on it tonight. All she wanted to
do was just go to her room, get changed, turn off the lights and hide
under the covers until morning. Maybe if she was lucky, Mulder'd let
her sleep a little late. Maybe if she was lucky, she'd be able to sleep.

OH, that's right. Mulder was sleeping with her tonight.
Oh GOD! A mental slap for that one! Sleeping in her *room* tonight,
due to sudden rash of UFBs--Unidentified Flying Bovine. The incident
that had cost her a good night's sleep, not that it had been a
screaming success in the first place, much of it spent tossing and
turning.

Oh well, hopefully he'd be civil enough not to make too much of a joke
out of this. Oh, she could handle his sense of humor..

'I just don't *want* to tonight,' she thought to herself as she
crossed the parking lot.

She was tired and sore, and all she wanted to do right now was flop
down on her bed and slip away into a post-primetime television induced
coma.

The words "Forget That" jumped out in sharp focus as she caught a
glimpse of her partner in the picture window, stretched out across the
bed reading a paper.

'If he wants to keep breathing, he'd better get off that bed.'

'Although he does look pretty yummy in that position,'
another voice inside her head spoke up.

Scully half exhaled, half chuckled. Fortunately she'd learned to
ignore *that* voice a long time ago. She'd had to. She saw her partner
in 'yummy' positions everyday, what would happen if she "broke
protocol" even once?

'So what? It's not like half the Bureau doesn't think you already
have,'that voice piped up again.

She fished around in her pockets for the keys, finally retrieving them
and fitting them into the lock.

Mulder glanced up from the paper as she opened the door.

"Next flight out is at 10:00 tomorrow morning." she shut the door
behind her.

"Look at this, Scully," he folded the paper back and held it out in
front of him so that a portion of the bi-line was still visible:
Flower Showers? What?, "September 19th 1991. It rained *rose petals*
for nearly an hour."

Oh, please no, not tonight. I'm tired, Mulder.

"Mulder we're going home. The rain stopped, Daryl Mootz is being sued
by about 50 people," she moved to curl up in the chair by the bed as
she spoke, "and--and you told Sheila yourself that she wasn't
controlling the weather."

"She's not. Neither is Daryl. Check this out, on the same day that it
rained rose petals," he sat up a little straighter and unfolded the
paper and refolded again to read from another portion it, " 'Irene
Hardt, Beloved Wife and Devoted Mother passed away yesterday afternoon."

He held it out for her to read the tiny obit, then refolded it once
again to continue where it cut off at the bottom of the page and
continued up onto the next one, humming a little as he did so.

"Mmm-mmm-mmm, 'She's survived by one son, *Holman* Hardt'," he gave
her a meaningful glance as he set the paper down on the bed.

"Oh, so now you're saying that Holman Hardt...."

"Holman Hardt has been manufacturing the weather. Did you see how
relieved he was when he found out Daryl was drunk?

Mulder, please....

"I've been doing some checking," he got up to retrieve a file from the
nearby vanity--oh God, he didn't look in the top drawer, did he?

'Dana, he's seen you in your underwear before, Hell the man has seen
you naked..'

'Don't remind me,' a slightly more embarrassed voice popped up, 'Thank
God, she couldn't remember it.'

'Much.'

The voices in her head abruptly ceased as he turned back around.

"Holman Hardt has been hospitalized five times with nervous
exhaustion. Each one coinciding with a major meteorological event," he
sat down on the foot of the bed, right in front of her.

"Mulder, it is still a huge leap to say that he's manufacturing the
weather."

"Most people will admit that the weather plays a significant role in
the way they feel, right. There's even that disorder...mmm," his
forehead creased as he searched for the proper term.

"SAD."

"Mmm-Hmm," he nodded as she touched on it.

"Seasonal Affective Disorder."

"Yeah. Well, who's to say that it doesn't work the other way around?
That the way a person feels can affect the weather? That the weather
is somehow an expression of Holman Hardt's feelings, or-or-or better
yet the feelings that he's not expressing."

'If this talk goes any further, my eyes are going to meet on the top
of my head.'

"Mulder, Ten o' clock tomorrow morning." Scully punctuated the
sentence by pulling herself out of the small chair and heading for the
bathroom, grabbing her overnight bag on the way, "until then, I just
want to get some of the rest I lost the other night."

She pulled open the bathroom door, and glanced back at him one last
time.

"No thanks to you I might add."

"Hey, it's not my fault a flying cow fell through my roof."

Whatever else he had to say was cut off as Scully shut the light wood
door behind her.

'Flying Cow,' she thought as she pulled off her jacket and started
unbuttoning her blouse, 'it could only happen to us.'

She chuckled lightly as each article of clothing came off until she
stood clad only in her white cotton panties.

'Amazing. Six years later, and I'm *still* buying the same kind of
underwear.'

She rooted through her bag until she came upon a pair of form-fitting
white shorts and an oversized T-shirt.
She pulled both of them on and grabbed the doorknob.

'At laaaaaassssssssst. Sleep.'

That last feeble hope was dashed however, when she opened the door,
and encountered Mulder back in his former position: lying across the
bed with his back against the headboard.

"That was fast," he glanced up as she shut the door behind her.

"Mulder, what are you doing? I told you I was going to bed."

"Okay," he patted the patch of mattress next to him and smiled a
little mischievously.

"I meant...," she took in a breath,"...by myself."

"You know, one is the loneliest number."

"Mulder, please. I am really tired and I have to get up early to catch
the plane."

"Early? The plane doesn't leave until 10."

"Yeah, and I haven't slept in 36 hours. Which means if I don't go to
sleep now, I'm going to have to drag my ass out of bed. So if you
please..."

"Where'm I going to sleep?"

"Sleep in the chair," she gestured towards where she'd been sitting
just minutes before.

"I can't sleep in that thing Scully, it's barely big enough for you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing."

"That's what I thought."

"Good."

"Sure."

"Fine."

"Whatever."

The extraneousness of the conversation got Scully chuckling, eliciting
curiosity from Mulder (not to mention a huge grin).

"What?" 

"Nothing..," she swallowed the rest of her laughter but left the smile
that accompanied it in place, "just this entire conversation and...how
it's not really going anywhere."

Mulder laughed a little, then sat up.

"I'm sorry Scully," he scooted forward on the bed, "I didn't mean to
give you trouble, I'll just sleep on the floor tonight."

"Are you sure?" Scully's expression changed to one of concern as he
slid off the bed.

"Yeah," he stood up, wincing slightly and moving his hands to a pain
in his back, "Jesus, I must be getting old, if it hurts just getting
out of bed."

"Well all those years of sleeping on sofa haven't done you any favors
either," she crossed to the bed behind him and folded back the covers.

"Yeah, well, it never used to hurt this much getting *into* bed," her
eyes widened as his voice dripped with innuendo, "course it's been
awhile..."

"I guess it has, come here," she motioned for him to step back a
little as she turned around.

He followed her orders and found himself walk into her small hands as
they met his shoulders and began massaging their way down.

Mulder closed his eyes as she began untying the fierce knots in the
muscles of his back, one by one, using infinite care to work around
the rapidly developing bruise in his shoulder from when he fell to the
floor to avoid the flying cow.

A strangled moan escaped him and he arched his back into her competent
hands, his lips parting on a sigh as he did so. Slowly, she kneaded
the muscles in the small of his back--a sensitive part if his anatomy,
the most sensitive area of his body according to his astrological
sign--the Libra. He'd read that in an X-File somewhere. The only part
of his body more sensitive than his lower back was his ass, it'd said.
Both these areas could be easily stimulated and required care and
protection.

'My God,' he thought to himself, 'like what me and Scully do. Whenever
we go somewhere, I place my hand at the small of her back. And she
protects my ass whenever I need her to... Wow. How'd I get so lucky?
Oh...Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh God...'

"Does that feel good?" her voice breezed through his musings, slowly
melting together with the sensation of her tapered fingers against his
soft skin.

"Yeah," he croaked on that word as her fingers stroked his sides
soothingly, almost affectionately, he inwardly giggled as her fingers
passed a ticklish spot but soon resumed along his spine, "Oh God,
Scully...those hands..."

He heard her laugh lightly behind him.

"That's what Spender said."

"WHAT?!"

He turned around to look at her as she flopped down on the foot of the
bed laughing.

"I was *JOKING*. I wanted to make sure you were awake."

"Oh, Jesus, don't even *joke* about that, Scully," he marched off
towards the linen closet next to the door and swung it open.

"I'm sorry, I thought you'd laugh," her laughter lightened to chuckling.

"No, that was not even funny, that was just plain *scary*, I'm going
to have some *GREAT* dreams tonight Scully, thanks a lot." He
retrieved a blue, frayed-looking blanket that looked like it had more
bodily fluids exchanged on it than Bill Clinton's desk chair and threw
it down on the floor next to Scully's bed.

"You're welcome," her smile faded as she slipped under the covers and
reached over to switch off the lamp.

As she laid her head down on the pillow, she looked down at her
partner as he sat down on the floor and covered himself with the
disgusting excuse for a blanket, preparing to lie down parallel to the
position she was lying in up on the bed.

"I'm going to step all over you in the morning, you're aware of that
right?" she asked as he laid his head against the pillow he'd borrowed
from the bed. In light of how groggy and disoriented she was when she
first woke up, and in light of her usual first waking instinct to
stumble into the bathroom in the morning, she thought he should be
forewarned he'd probably get a nasty wake up call at about 7:30, if he
*did* fall asleep.

"That's okay. Probably won't be any worse than you usually do," he
closed his eyes and instantly felt a pillow harshly collide with his
face as the last few words left his mouth.

Mulder's eyes shot open, as a sudden glint filled them.

"Oh...Scully..." he tried not to make a sound as he rose up on his
knees next to the bed, pillow clenched in both his hands, "you're
gonna get it for that."

"Wh--?" Scully's sleepy response was soon replaced by a wide awake
yelp as the pillow came down on her face.

Her own hands reached for the pillow beneath her head and the assault
was on.

Scully giggled and fought to rise up on her knees on the bed as
Mulder's pillow struck her shoulders.

All too soon she gained momentum and struck back. His head got the
full impact of her excellent aim and swam momentarily as he designated
the next spot to strike.

He chose her hips. She chose his arms. Her thighs. His chest. This
went on and on for what seemed like hours as they indulged in a game
neither of them had probably played since they were about ten. And
neither one of them could stop laughing as the game continued...

One last blow to Mulder's arms sent the pillow flying from his hands
and onto the floor. As he bent to retrieve it, a mischievous thought
came to Scully's mind and she leaped on his back, dropping her pillow
so she could tickle his sides.

"Oh! Jesus! Scully!!!" Mulder yelped in between giggles as her small,
but competent hands skipped up and down his sides and the front of his
abdomen.

'How the *hell* did she--' his thoughts were cut off as her fingertips
grazed another spot on his chest.

His laughter erupted.

"Scully...Get off of me..." he squirmed and writhed under her touch as
he tried to throw her off his back.

'How does a well built man of six feet get taken down by a woman of
5'2"? This violates the laws of physics,' another giggle interrupted
his musings, 'and fairness.'

"Scully....Get off..."

He could hear and feel her own laughter coming in short breaths
against the nape of his neck.

"Uh-uh, this is way too much fun." he could hear the laughter in her
voice and writhed even more desperately.

Finally, he lost his balance and fell backwards against the bed,
Scully underneath him. Pressed between the weakness of the mattress
and her partners 170 pounds.

He'd worried she might be hurt, until he heard the already familiar
laughter still tantalizing the back of his neck.

In one swift movement he flipped himself over to poise himself above
her on the bed. Mild shock registered in her eyes as he
gazed--yes,*gazed*--at her face with a look she thought she'd seen
befo--

"Ahh! Mulder!!" her wonder was replaced with hysterical giggling going
about ten times the tempo it had been when she was the one tickling
him. Now as his long lean fingers danced along her sides, it was
completely different.

"One good turn deserves another, don't you think Scully?" he smiled
down into her desperate face as his ministrations were starting to
make the muscles in her face sore with the force of her laughter.

"Mulder!..Please!..."

Oh God, she was in Hell. Or maybe Heaven. Her mind wasn't coherent
enough to decide which as Mulder's marvelously talented hands waltzed
across her stomach and her hips.

"Mulder!...Muld--!"

"Okay, okay, I'll stop," his smile stayed on his face as his hands
quieted, taking pity on her.

Scully smiled up at him too as she panted, trying to catch the breath
she'd just lost in their...what exactly could she call what they'd
just done?

She stared up into his dark eyes, smoky with laughter, his forehead
was faintly traced with sweat, as she was certain hers was, his
recently cut hair was ruffled and out of place, and the smile that
graced his face was a wonderful sight to see, since it had been a long
time since she'd seen Mulder genuinely smile...

His eyes remained on her face, almost lost in fascination. He'd never
seen Scully like this. Her hair thrown back from her face fanlike
against the now rumpled bedcover, the dark blush across her face from
laughing so hard, and her heavy breathing...ohhhhh Jeeesus, the girls
in his videos didn't sound like that...

Scully felt light puffs of breathing that matched her own lightly
caress her face, making her lightheaded as she finally noticed the
position of his hands and just *where* they had settled:

His right hand had moved north and was tenderly stroking her neck and
the part of her collarbone exposed by the oversized neck of her
nightshirt, while his left had almost surreptitiously slipped
underneath her nightshirt and was resting against her stomach.

As their breathing slowly returned to normal, Mulder's eyes ran the
length of her body and he suddenly realized the location of his hands
and pulled back quickly.

"Sorry," he softly whispered against her hair, reminiscent of that
scene they'd *almost* played out in his hallway not months before., as
he flipped over to lie beside her on the bed.

The air between them remained silent for a few moments, but thoroughly
charged with a certain energy neither one could really pinpoint.

Then Scully began to laugh.

Mulder heard her light giggle even before she did and looked over at
her.

"What so funny?" he stared at her profile in the dim light being cast
through the picture window.

"If that lady could see us now," she mumbled almost to herself.

"What lady?"

"The manager of the motel. She approached me this morning when I came
to the scene of the "accident"."

"What did she say?" Mulder felt his eyes close momentarily.

"She said 'Miss, we moved your boyfriend's things into your room.'"

His eyes snapped open and he looked over at her.

"Your kidding!" the beginnings of his trademark grin began to spread
across his features.

"Nope," she shook her head.

"What did you say?" a slight chuckle was in his voice.

"I told her you were my partner and we preferred separate rooms."
Scully continued to look up at the ceiling as she spoke.

"What she say to that?"

"She said 'Oh. Old fashioned are you?'"

Mulder's dry laugh filled the room slightly as Scully turned her head
to look over at him.

All laughed out, she managed a small smile as he turned his head to
look over at her.

"Yeah Mulder, we might as well be married with all the crap we get,
not to mention the equally shattered condition of our social lives."

"Well I asked you to marry me once Scully, you didn't give me an
answer."

The smile grew a little irritated and she nodded slightly closing her
eyes.

"And as for our social lives, I don't know about yours, but I'd say
mine's still standing."

"Mulder, your social life consists of a magazine subscription and a
collection of video tapes."

"I swear to God, they're not *mine*!"

She tossed him a weaker version of "the look." She was too tired to
arouse anything stronger.

"Anyway, I don't have time to watch those anymore. When I'm not doing
grunt work at the Bureau, I'm always with you."

The gaze that accompanied that statement sent a small shiver down her
spine. She fought to move to firmer ground.

"Or you're at the Lone Gunmen's."

"Or I'm at the Lone Gunmen's. You know Frohike said to tell you he
loves the picture of you."

"What picture?"

"The one on my web page."

She looked over at him.

"You have a picture of me on your web page?"

"Mmm-hmm," he nodded and shifted against the bed.

"I didn't even know you had a web page."

"Well, yeah, you know, it's ...just something I work on when I can't
sleep."

"Hmmmm," the path of her eyes returned to the ceiling, "....maybe
that's something I could try..."

He stared over at her, a rush of both curiosity and concern swept
across his features.

"Scully? Is something wrong?"

She swallowed hard and kept her gaze focused on the ceiling. He moved
closer to her on the bed.

"Scully, if there is, you can talk to me, you know that," she could
feel their physical proximity as his gentle whisper caressed her face
and neck.

She finally gathered enough energy to look over at him, his face was
practically laying against her hair on the bedspread. And his eyes
were filled with care and slight distress.

Her mouth opened but for a moment no sound emanated from her. Finally...

"Mulder, I haven't been able to sleep....not for a while," her voice
remained steady, but her eyes must have betrayed how she felt as his
expression changed in reaction.

Mulder's eyes softened tenderly and he reached for her. 

"Come here, Scully..." he whispered gently into her hair as his arms
gently closed around her.

A soft sigh escaped her mouth as the familiarity of his touch sent a
subtle wave of warmth pooling through her body. Her face leaned
against his shoulder while his nestled in her hair. She could feel his
hands slowly and methodically rubbing and smoothing away the tension
in her back and she slowly felt her eyes beginning to close. They lay
together like that for a long time as his hands drew delicate paths
down her back, pausing once toward the center, noticing her lack of a
bra, until she finally felt him move underneath her.

"Come on," he lifted himself off the bed and helped her into a
position against the pillows, proceeding to pull back the duvet a bit
more and drape it across her middle.

Stretching a little, he layed down beside her on the bed, atop the
covers, his eyes never leaving her face.

"I'll just stay here until you fall asleep," his left hands reached
out to smooth and stroke her hair. The gesture made her smile slightly
and close her eyes. She took his other hand in hers and heard him take
a deep breath.

She'd let him stay on the bed for as long as he liked.

"Mulder?"

"Yeah?"

"Just *what* picture of me did you put on your web page?"

*******************************************************

Like it? Love it? Hate it? Could've done without it?
LET ME KNOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!:):):)
I made it for you, Kids. Drop me a line and let me know how you liked
it:):):)

I know it kind of went from funny to touchy right toward the end there.

I apologize for NOTHING:):):)*LOL*

It's my story:)

--Rebecca

P.S. A HUGE thank you to all of you on the Church of X Mailing List
who challenged me to attempt this story:)