Room 217 pearlydewdrop
Summary:
It's probably a little on the late side for Halloween fics but what the hell!
Mulder convinces Scully to go with him on a romantic weekend away...to the famous haunted Stanley Hotel in Colorado
Set in Season 7 post All Things but before Requiem. Enjoy!
Room 217
...
Beware of the full moon, stick to the path, out come the creatures, a spine chilling laugh...
Ahahahaha
there's a chill in the air, (chill in the air)
you hear a creak on the stair, (creak on the stairs)
you gotta lock all your doors, (lock all your doors)
is there anybody out
~All Stars, Bump in the Night
...
"You want to go on a vacation!", Scully asked indignantly, eyeing her partner (and more recently lover) across their desk, her eyebrows raised with signature Dana Scully scepticism. "Together?"
Mulder didn't reply out rightly and just shrugged his shoulders non-committally, satisfying himself by throwing her the same puppy pout that got him out of quite a few sticky situations.
"Mulder, are you out of you mind?"
If she had ever met anyone who was less 'let's go away for the long weekend together' material than Mulder then so help her God.
When it came to their relationship/partnership/friendship, the concepts that most people considered perfectly ordinary and natural seemed almost bizarre to them,
And planned vacations were most certainly one of those crazy, unheard of and unnatural things.
Unless of course, they were chasing after Mulder's latest crazy lead on an equally crazy case that he had dug up. At least something of that nature would justify his sudden enthusiasm to get out of Washington for Halloween weekend. After all, the accounting department considered the paranormal investigating, basement dwelling pair of agents to be the best needless spenders of American tax dollars in the Bureau.
And despite what a slightly younger version of herself would believe, Scully liked their lives this way (at least when she wasn't preoccupied with rolling her eyes at his shenanigans and trying to keep Mulder grounded and out of any serious trouble with their superiors).
They were Mr and Mrs Spooky, the FBI's most mismatched, dysfunctionally functional unwanted dynamic duo who loved each other unconditionally, differences and all.
They were each other's best friend, confidant, perfect other and even soulmate if you found the concept believable.
But they did not go away on planned vacations, period.
"It was just an idea, Scully", Mulder shrugged with a half smile, throwing his legs off their desk and push himself out of his chair to go stand behind her, hands resting on her shoulders. "You, me, a nice spacious suite in a luxurious hotel in the mountains and no monsters, aliens, bogeymen or nice trips to the forest. All paid for by yours truly."
Scully looked up at him over her shoulder, uncertain whether to be surprised by her partner trying to be a romantic in the conventional way or to offer to take him to the hospital for a head scan.
Deciding to ride with it for the time being and see where the situation would go, she decided on the latter. "All right, Mulder. I'll bite."
Mulder grinned, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "I'm quite aware you do, Scully and I've got the marks to prove it."
He might have promised her no monsters, aliens, bogeymen or unexpected forest excursions but he didn't agree to anything about morally conservative ghosts.
Oh well, surprises were to be revealed.
...
they're out to get you to capture you and make you spell bound,
howling and prowling you're shivering, quivering, spell bound
you cannot run, and you cannot hide, yeah you gotta face it baby,
things go bump in the night,
wherever you run, and wherever you hide, yeah you gotta face it baby,
things go bump, bump, bump in the night,
~All Stars, Bump in the Night
...
After their four hour flight from Washington to Cheyenne Regional Airport in Colorado and their ninety plus mile drive to Estes Park, Mulder and Scully emerged from their rental vehicle to take their bearings.
Their hotel is large white and spreading out to their right and left, boasting colonial architecture with its graceful white exterior and brick red roofing. The Stanley Hotel, rising up in front of them surrounded by panoramic views of The snow capped Rocky Mountains and Lake Estes.
Familiar?
Most definitely.
Scully smirked, shutting the car door at the passenger side, walking around the car to sit on the bonnet. Mulder followed her lead, taking a seat by her side.
"The hotel from 'The Shining', really Mulder?", she deadpanned, crossing her arms over her chest. She shook her head as she looked over her shoulder to her partner who was grinning like a little boy at Christmas. "I can't say that I'm surprised."
"Aww but Scully, I even booked us Room 217", Mulder replied enthusiastically, throwing an arm around his petite slice n' dice partner. "It'll be a nice leisurely spooky experience in the comforts of our hotel room."
Scully sighed, knowing she was fighting a losing battle if Mulder was going to keeping looking at her like that, like he was about to burst with excitement. "Fine", she agreed, but glared up at Mulder, adopting a sarcastic tone. "But if it turns out that there's a decaying old lady in the bathtub, I'm outta there."
Mulder grinned goofily, heading around to the back of the car, tossing open the boot. He grabbed his own luggage, heaving it over his back and handed Scully hers.
He knew better not to try and be a gentleman and help her, since the kit time he did when they were out of town on a case, Scully had insisted that he not try to be 'the macho man' now just because they were sleeping together. She was perfectly capable of looking after her own stuff.
"Well, I don't know anything about decaying old ladies", he replied slamming the boot and began heading for the hotel's main entrance. "But I do know that there's the ghost of Mrs Wilson, a maid from the original Stanley Hotel, in the room we're staying."
Scully rolled her eyes, following him up the steps. "If you think that this hotel is haunted than you're crazier than I thought", she replied teasingly, catching up with him. "If 'The Stanley Hotel' is giving out storied about paranormal than its obviously just doing so to bring tourists and Stephen King fans to stay in the hotel."
"Mark my words, Scully. Room 217 is haunted by a morally old fashioned ghost. I can feel it", Mulder told her, absolutely certain. He pushed open the lobby door, holding it open for his partner to walk through under his arm.
Scully looked up at him, eyebrows raised in their signature 'you've got to be kidding me' fashion . "Morally old fashioned Mulder, really?"
He nodded. "Yeah, good old Mrs Wilson thinks it's her mission to protect the honour of unmarried women who stay in the room by keeping men out of their bed."
Scully shook her head, hiding a little smile, marvelling, not for thee first time in the seven years that they have been together, how very 'Mulder' the whole situation was. "A romantic weekend away in a room where there's a ghost that wants to keep you out of my bed, huh Mulder?"
Mulder grinned widely, noticing her smile and knowing that it meant she was, once again, with him on this. "I thought you didn't believe in ghosts, Scully?", he asked teasingly.
"I don't", Scully told him firmly. "But I don't want you to do anything stupid if you're going ghost hunting", she said in a tone that would be stern if it weren't for her affectionate smile in his direction. "so I'm here to save your ass if needs be."
Mulder chuckled, taking her by the hand as they headed for the front desk. "Well, thanks for coming with me anyway", he told her. "And for staying."
Scully smiled despite herself, barely refraining from telling him that she probably would follow him anywhere. After all, she knew what telling Mulder something like that could land her into the middle of in the future. "Yeah, well since you got me up this morning for a 5am flight, I'm taking a nap."
Mulder mirrored her expression, really grateful to have her here with him. He couldn't imagine doing something like this with anyone but her. "Okay but I've a lot to tell you about this place, so how about a bedtime story, Scully."
...
Tell me who's spookin who?, (who's spookin who),
its very scooby doo, (scooby doo)
You hear a shriek in the house (shriek in the house),
you know its freakin me out.
There out to get you to capture you and make you spell bound,
howling and prowling you're shivering, quivering, spell bound.
~All Stars, Bump in the Night
...
"Don't unpack your stuff, Scully?", Mulder declared, eyeballing his partner as she started to open her suitcase.
Scully eyed him sceptically over her shoulder, watching as he flopped dramatically on to their bed. "Why the hell not?"
"Because, My dear Scully", Mulder said, with a mischievous smile, sounding more like the famous detective Sherlock than his regular self. "Good old Mrs Wilson will put your clothes away for you".
As if that answered all of her questions.
Deciding that it would be totally useless to argue with him on the existence of said poltergeist, Scully chose to humour him. "So tell me, Mulder", she said, adopting a similar tone of voice as she lay back on the pale green cover on the four poster bed next to him. "So who did this Wilson woman piss off in life to end up spending her afterlife folding other people's worn clothes and keeping unmarried couples from getting it on."
Mulder smirked, flashing back to when he had asked her who she pissed off to end up in the basement with him when she walked into his life all logical with oversized plaid suits over seven years ago. "Au contraire, Mrs Wilson was a chambermaid of the highest integrity who spent all of her life working in The Stanley and continues to do so in death...", he chuckled slightly at the next thought that popped into his head and turned on his side to meet her eye. "Kind of like if we haunted the basement office in, say, sixty years time."
Scully rolled her eyes for what felt like the millionth time that day.
Mr and Mrs Spooky?
Most definitely...
...
you cannot run, and you cannot hide, yeah you gotta face it baby,
things go bump in the night,
wherever you run, and wherever you hide, yeah you gotta face it baby,
things go bump, bump bump in the night,
~All Stars, Bump in the Night.
...
"See, Mulder?", Scully said triumphantly as she sat up in bed, much fresher than she had been earlier.
All of their belongings remained untouched and in their suitcases and Mulder was still lying comfortable next to her in bed where he had fallen asleep two hours ago. It seemed as though they hadn't been visited by any sort of tide and conservative ghosts.
"I told you that there was no ghost in here."
Mulder looked around the room, trying to decipher if anything looked even slightly out of place from earlier...and found nothing.
Pouting in disappointment as he reluctantly consider that Scully could be right on this, Mulder made to get out of bed and take a closer look, just to make.
Absolutely nothing, not a blip.
It seemed that Mrs Wilson was probably just like any other hoax that they've come across since they started working together.
Or maybe she was just having an off day?
Or maybe they tricked her into thinking that they were married?
Mulder voiced some of these thoughts to Scully, who smiled despite herself, pulling her body upwards into a kneeling position.
Even after seven years on the road together, case after case and motel after motel, Mulder was still so adamant to believe in the things that would seem impossible to others.
Maybe his stubbornness was part of why she loved him so much.
"I don't hear any skeptical remarks coming from you, Scully. Does this mean I've finally won you over", Mulder said, approaching Scully slowly until their bodies were firmly against one another and they could feel each others warm breath tickle their face.
Scully smirked, teasingly pushing him away from her. "You wish, Mulder", she told him, climbing out of bed. "Let's get something eat and I'll think of ten reasons why there's no ghosts in this room."
Mulder smiled challengingly, his eyes alight. "Alright if we stay here all night and nothing happens, I'll give you full body massages everyday for a week."
Scully grinned in an almost business like manner, setting both of her hands on his shoulders.
She knew that Mulder would probably enjoy losing the collateral that he was putting on the table just as much than she would taking it.
But hey, what the hell?
"Alright then Mulder, if you win you can come shopping with me...", she began suggestively, trying not to laugh at Mulder's expression of horror at the idea of wandering around woman's clothes shops all day.
Going by the face he was giving her, she almost expected him to back out all together before she could even tell him where. "...at Victoria's Secret."
Mulder's eyes darkened, facial expression changing drastically at her proposal.
They shook on it.
...
you're spookin'
you're spookin'
you're spookin'
ahahahaha
things they go bump, they go bump, they go bump they go ...
you cannot run, and you cannot hide yeah you gotta face it baby things
go bump bump bump in the night. (real spooky in the night)
~All Stars, Bump in the Night
...
Several hours, a nice steak dinner and two and a half bottles of Château Simone Palette Rouge between them later, Scully fumbled with the door key of room 217, inebriated both from the wine and by the feeling of her partner's soft inviting lips on her neck and collar bone and...lower lower lower.
'Oh shit', she wondered hazily for a moment, halting her struggle with the door and glancing down at her front, where Mulder's lips were starting a whole new adventure on her breasts.
Had her blouse been buttoned this low all evening? She sincerely hoped not.
She looked up at Mulder questioningly for a moment but found herself a little distracted. Were his eyes green? 'Nope', she decided firmly. Definitely not green but what about brown. 'Uh Uh'.
'Hazel', she thought victoriously, remembering the word. That was it!...but damn he was so hot... Scully found herself loosing concentration once again as his hands dipped lower and lower, squeezing her in all the right places.
So so hot...so hot that she couldn't believe that it took them seven years to get in bed together.
Especially because they were so freaking good in bed together...Scully found her mind wandering to all the other places in her body that ached for his hands, his lips and well...,something else too.
But that 'something else' was still all covered up...doesn't mean she couldn't feel it rock hard against her ass though.
God dammit, she needed to get both of them on the other side of that door right now or she just might spontaneously combust.
Mulder too was feeling a little dizzy...also feeling like he should remember something about their hotel room but he couldn't quite grasp what...but fuck...Scully smelt so good.
'Is that apples?', he thought, inhaling the scent of her shampoo from the crown of her head that was so neatly tucked under his chin...like hell, was she so small...tiny...miniature...adorable...but fierce...like a tiger cub.
Mulder found himself, once again, trailing his lips down her cheek, temple and neck...her body lotion was vanilla flavoured he decided, that and something else uniquely Scully that he could not, for the life of him, put his finger on...but holy shit, she tasted like heaven.
His Nirvana, right between his arms.
Suddenly, Scully managed to get the key turned and together they sighed a breath of relief as Mulder kicked the door closed behind them.
With ease, Scully began to make to make do with his shirt. Undoing the buttons at a speed where she could
A) Undress him quick enough to satisfy both his and her own growing need.
but...
B) Enjoying viewing the goods she was unveiling.
And Holy Mother of Fuck was he nice... 'now for those jeans', she decided, undoing the belt and zip and allowing it to fall to the floor.
Mulder grinned wolfishly and lifted her up, holding her against him in an almost possessive manner as her legs wrapped tightly around his waist.
'Maybe Clyde Bruckman had a valid point', Mulder mused as Scully began impatiently pulling him towards her, claiming his lips passionately with her own, their tongues beginning a battle for dominance in a manner that made him feel even more dizzy than before.
With that thought, he began moving them in the direction of the four poster. 'if anything or anyone was going to be the death of him, it was this woman right here."
Scully felt Mulder's heart hammering in his chest against her own body as she began gently running her fingertips down the planes of his firm muscular back, scratching gently.
Now, with him hovering about her, eyes dilated with lust...there was no word for him but...beautiful. Soft dark hair, already slightly damp. Hazel orb-like eyes that, despite their mutual inebriated states, seemed to look deep inside of her. What felt like miles of a warm tanned body, flushed against her own.
So fucking beautiful.
His hands slipped down her body, pushing for the zipper that started right above her hips bone. Scully barely refrained from purring at the motion, as Mulder's head dipped down to pay homage to her chest.
Right now, everything about her partner was almost too damn erotic for her to handle.
But handle she would...
Mulder brushed his lips across her exposed skin, admiring how her porcelain colouring almost seemed to glow in the semidarkness. He could just about count the little golden freckles, like gold dust scattered across her shoulders.
They were stars he would never quit trying to fathom in constellations.
Suddenly, Scully felt the duvet begin to rustle under her and a cold gust of wind blew through the room, causing their every hair to stand on end, skeptic or not.
"Mulder, what are you up to?", she asked quietly, a slight pant in her voice.
Mulder looked up at her, stopping his administrations, his chin against her breast bone.
"That's not me, I thought it was y-", he started but was cut off as the duvet and blankets were violently pulled out from underneath them and tossed across the floor.
The whole bed abruptly began to shake, rattling, so it seemed, right up from the floor.
Before he could register anything else, Mulder felt, what seemed like a pair of ice cold hands, push against him with surprising amount of force, knocking him clean out of the bed, across the room with the blanket, sheets and duvet and on to the floor.
Mulder landed with a loud thud on the mahogany wooden floor about six feet from the bed, the impact of his ass hitting the ground brining him almost entirely to his senses.
'Mrs Wilson', he realised, the alcohol induced fog lifting slightly. 'Of course!"
"Mulder", Scully said, managing to keep her voice cool. Surely they had both just imagined all that after they had been drinking a little too much? "What the hell just happened"
Mulder looked up at his bedraggled looking partner from the floor, throwing her a shit-eating grin. "I think the old dear just saved your honour, Scully".
...
you cannot run, and you cannot hide, yeah you gotta face it baby,
things go bump in the night,
wherever you run, and wherever you hide, yeah you gotta face it baby,
things go bump, bump bump in the night,
~All Stars, Bump in the Night.
...
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