Flightby Sheryl Martin
The waiting area of LAX was noisy, crowded and hot. Something new. A screaming kid raced by Fox Mulder, chased by an angry mother who was cursing and yelling in Spanish. He looked over at Dana Scully, her face buried in a magazine.
ÒWant to trade?Ó He shrugged off his jacket, tugging at his tie. ÒThis is ridiculous.Ó
ÒYouÕre the one who wanted to spend the weekend on the West Coast looking for UFOÕs.Ó Her hazel eyes didnÕt leave the page. ÒI donÕt want to hear any complaining from you because we ended up on standby.Ó
ÒSo... you want to trade magazines?Ó His plaintive look finally broke her resolve.
ÒAh... Cosmopolitan for Sports Illustrated? I donÕt think so...Ó
ÒCome on Scully... give me a break...Ó
ÒDonÕt tempt me.Ó She sighed. ÒAlright. Here. Just donÕt lose the page I turned down.Ó
ÒItÕs the swimsuit issue.Ó He handed the copy over to her.
ÒIÕm so surprised.Ó She dug in her purse for a crossword puzzle book, dropping the magazine beside her onto the luggage.
ÒHey, Scully...Ó
ÒWhat?Ó She almost felt like that mother a few minutes ago...
ÒSays here that women often hide their true feelings behind aggressive speech...Ó
ÒShut up, Mulder.Ó She tapped the pencil against her teeth. ÒFour letter word for insect...Ó
ÒPest.Ó He grinned, flipping the pages as he sat across from her.
ÒWhy would I think of you when I hear that word?Ó She looked up at the board. ÒThis is taking way too long...Ó
ÒIÕm going into the shop. You want anything?Ó He got to his feet, stretching his lanky frame to its full extent. She looked over her glasses at him slyly, a smile tugging at her lips.
ÒHow about a cold drink?Ó
ÒYour wish is my command.Ó With a grin he swept past her into the little store. Dana shook her head, trying to clear away the thoughts that were creeping in; most of which dealt with heat, water, and tall dark men.
ÒVampire movie of the Eighties... eight letters, two words...Ó She licked her lips, then smiled. ÒLost Boys.Ó
As if on cue, Mulder reappeared, holding out a bottle of fruit juice. Snapping the lid off his own iced tea, he sat down again. A small bag landed in her lap, almost upsetting the drink.
ÒWhatÕs this?Ó She opened the bag gingerly.
ÒOh, I saw it and thought of you.Ó
Dana slowly withdrew a tshirt with a Tweety Bird on the front, wearing a Stetson hat. Fox started to laugh, enjoying her expression. She stared at him, then at the shirt, then back at him before chuckling to herself.
ÒSo if IÕm a Tweety Bird, then what does that make you?Ó
He proudly displayed his own shirt from the bag beside him. ÒIÕm Wile E. Coyote... chasing that dammed bird...Ó
ÒThis is almost cute, Mulder... almost cute...Ó
ÒWell, I almost bought a Tasmanian Devil shirt for someone else...Ó
ÒBut you knew sheÕd kill you...Ó
ÒYour psychic abilities are in fine form, Scully.Ó He looked up at the board. ÒLook... I think our luckÕs about to turn again...Ó They heard the announcement and grabbed their luggage. Dana stuffed the shirt into her purse, still shaking her head.
***********************
The takeoff was smooth, and they were soon out of the grey haze of Los Angeles and heading East. Mulder had snagged the window seat for himself, and for some reason Scully had two seats to spread her stuff over... which helped once she set up the laptop and started her report.
ÒScully?Ó
ÒHmm?Ó She sighed. This was never going to be finished at this rate.
ÒSays here in your Cosmo that women like to think of their men as well-trained animals...Ó He grinned at her with that devilish smile. ÒYour thoughts?Ó
Calmly she reached into her purse and extracted the Sports Illustrated magazine, rolling it up. Leaning over, she rapped the tip of it on his nose, hard enough to sting.
ÒHeel.Ó She snarled. ÒMulder, if I donÕt finish this report, weÕre going to be in trouble with Skinner again.Ó
Fox sighed, settling down into his seat in a sulk. Closing his eyes, he tried to sleep.
Dana rubbed the bridge of her nose, taking her glasses off. Finally done. She looked over at the sleeping man; pausing for a second. His childlike expression in sleep was innocent as much as it was seductive; both inviting and intoxicating... He shrugged into the small pillow, licking his lips as he snuggled into the seat... She flagged down the attendant. With thoughts like that, she must be jet lagged already. Might as well have a drink to make it more fun.
Fox stirred uncomfortably, feeling the ache in his neck as he tried to stretch out again. Rubbing his eyes, he looked to the left to see Dana working on her drink, the small table in front of her finally empty of the laptop. Instead a medical magazine had taken its place; the blue highlighter in her hand leaping across the page as she noted points and paragraphs in the articles. She didnÕt know he was awake... his eyes roamed over her copper-coloured hair; down the soft lines of her neck to her intense stare on the page... she put the edge of the highlighter to her lips, chewing on it lightly. Blinking rapidly, Fox shook his head and closed his eyes again. Not thoughts to pursue consciously... better go back to sleep...
*********************
Dinner was some nondescript beef dish in a bit of rice and carrots... Mulder stared over at Scully.
ÒI donÕt suppose you have a McDonaldÕs hidden in that purse somewhere?Ó
The magazine rapped him again on the nose. ÒStop. Eat.Ó She smiled. ÒOr you can just wait until we land...Ó
He poked at the food with a sigh. ÒThink I saw this in an Outer Limits episode..Ó
*******************
The luggage carousel spun around and around with everyoneÕs luggage except for the one bag that Mulder had decided to check. He stared at the black rubber track, willing it to appear. Scully smirked behind him, holding her overnight kit.
ÒTold you so...Ó
He reached for his magazine, swatting at her as she deftly moved out of range. ÒWatch it... us aggressive men tend to lose it easily in airports... and you can play dead...Ó
ÒIn your dreams, Mulder.Ó She pointed to a weather beaten black bag wandering down the track. ÒThere you go.Ó
****************
He pulled over to the curb in front of her apartment building, stifling a yawn. Rubbing his eyes wearily, Fox suddenly noticed that she hadnÕt moved to get out of the car yet.
ÒMulder... you look beat.Ó Dana took a deep breath. ÒDo you want to crash on my couch for a few hours? I donÕt know if you should be driving...Ó
ÒI think IÕm fine.Ó He smiled, meeting her concerned gaze. ÒReally. IÕll call you when I get home, okay?Ó
She nodded, relieved and disappointed that he hadnÕt taken her up on the offer. ÒAs soon as you get in the door, right?Ó
ÒYes, Mom.Ó The Sports Illustrated smacked him again on the nose.
ÒWatch it, Mulder...Ó Dana laughed as she shut the door. ÒTalk to you in a while, then.Ó
She watched the car pull away, waiting until it had turned the corner before heading up the steps to her building. Fumbling for her keys, she opened the door, breathing in the familiarity of her own place. God, it felt good to be home... even if it was alone.
****************
Fox staggered to his couch, ignoring the blinking messages on his machine. Reaching for the phone, he punched in the familiar number.
ÒHello... IÕm here. I didnÕt get run over or kill anyone.Ó
ÒThis time.Ó Her snarky response make him smile.
ÒPromises, promises. See you tomorrow, Scully.Ó
ÒGood night, Mulder.Ó The line went dead in his hand. He stared at the phone thoughtfully for a minute before putting it down on the table. Lying back on the couch, his eyes picked out a familiar spot on the ceiling before they closed.
ÒObedience training... not a bad idea, Scully...Ó
***************************"You've become a world-class hopeless romantic.""Not hopeless... hopeful. A world-class hopeful romantic."Joan Wilder -- Romancing The Stone