Author's Notes: Another fun little fluff piece, my favorite kind to write despite the dark WIPs I've got going—and need a break from. Most of this written while listening to The Essential Elmer Bernstein Film Music Collection, featuring selections from Heavy Metal, Airplane!, Ghostbusters, The Great Escape, To Kill a Mockingbird, and The Magnificent Seven. What fantastic music to write by!

Thanks to Alia and Joe for great betas; my stories truly would be less without them.

Darkness
by Suzanne L. Feld
Rated PG for language

"Scully? Scully, are you there?"

"Yeah, Mulder... face down in what I hope is clean dirt. Pthoo."

"I can't see a frigging thing. Where are we?"

"Probably in the cellar we were about to investigate when we were, apparently, cold-cocked from behind."

"Are you tied up?"

"Yeah, just my hands behind my back—you?"

"Same, and it feels tight. Is that you?"

"Yes and you kick me again, Mulder, I'll kick you back twice as hard with my high heels. One of which I still have on."

"Stay put, I'm going to try and roll over towards—ouch!"

"What was that?"

"My head. What was that?"

"My knee. We're head-to-foot, Mulder."

"Thanks, Madam Obvious, I figured that out. Can you feel anything around you with your feet?"

"No, just more dirt. Oh, wait, here's my other shoe. How about you? Anything?"

"Nothing. Hold still, Scully, I'm going to try to roll over and—uh--get us, um, back to back—so we can untie.. each.. other..."

"HEY! That's not my goddamn back, Mulder!"

"Close enough. Okay, I should be able to untie you..."

"You grab my ass again and I won't return the favor."

"It was a mistake, Scully! It's not like I can see what I'm doing!"

"Hmph."

"Okay... there you go. Now do me."

"Wait a minute... my gun, cell, and badge are gone. Probably yours as well. Did you have a flashlight on you?"

"I usually keep a penlight in my inside jacket pocket... ooh, Scully!"

"Mulder, I swear to Christ if you don't cut it out...! No, it's gone too."

"Are you going to untie me, or just feel me up? Not that I'm complaining, mind you."

"You're lucky I am untying you with the way you're acting. Damn rough rope, I think I've broken every fingernail on my hands."

"You never impressed me as a woman who cares about broken nails, Scully."

"It's a waste of a fifteen-dollar manicure, Mulder. That's what I care about."

"Girly girl."

"One more remark like that and you can stumble around tied up and figure out where we are with your nose."

"Are you making fun of my big beak?"

"It'll be bigger if you slam it into a wall a few times because you hands are tied behind your back."

…

"Almost done, Mulder. You still with me?"

"Yeah, biting my tongue. If I said what came to mind after that last remark of yours you'd probably use the rope to throttle me."

"I don't doubt it... there you go."

"Ouch—my fingers are tingling, Scully. That can't be good."

"They must have tied you too tight. Are you sitting up?"

"Am now."

"Hold still... is that your shoulder?"

"Yep."

"Put your arms out slowly... got 'em. I'll massage the circulation back into your hands if you promise not to make a single smart remark about it."

"Can I at least say that you're really good at that?"

"You can. And that's all you can say about it, Mulder. We'd better hold onto each other so we don't butt heads."

"We do enough of that without being stuck in pitch darkness together."

"Yeah, figuratively and literally. Let's stand up—carefully. We don't know how low the ceiling is."

"It's taller than me, at least. Feels like it's a couple inches higher than the top of my head. You're more than safe, Scully, even with your three-inch heels on."

"Would you stop--hey--what are you doing?"

"I thought I was putting my arm around you—or do I have a hold of some other part I'm going to get smacked for?"

"No, I thought we'd just, uh, hold hands or something."

"This is safer. Put your hands out, Scully, move forward slowly and let's see if we can find a wall or someth—OUCH!"

"What is it? Are you all right, Mulder?"

"More or less. Feels like the back of an open wooden staircase. Found it with my head."

"Yeah, I feel it. Think we should try going up?"

"May as well. I don't feel a railing, though."

"Nor a wall on either side. I think it's too dangerous, Mulder. We could easily fall and who knows what's on either side."

"I'll go up by myself."

"Don't you dare let go of me! Mulder!"

"Just stay there, Scully. I'm on hands and knees... it's only eight steps and I found what I think is a door... yeah, I feel a knob but no keyhole or lock. Must be dead-bolted from the outside, it's not moving at all. Dammit!"

"Would you get back down here?"

"Think I should bang on it and shout for help?"

"Sure, let the bad guys know we got loose if they're nearby."

"Shit."

"Come back down slow so you don't—ouch! That was my shin, Mulder!"

"Is that your shoulde—I never noticed before just how soft your hair is, Scully."

"Would you cut it out! Just turn and sit on the bottom step next to me. I think that's the safest thing for now before we hurt ourselves or each other any more."

"Move over a bit, you're hogging all the stair."

"Mulder... you don't need to put your arm around me again, you know."

"I know."

"Then why are you?"

"Because it feels nice? And truth be told, it's a little freaky down here in the pitch dark not knowing what's around us and I like holding onto you in this situation."

"Damn, my head hurts."

"Mine does twice as much. Try finding a stairway with yours, Scully."

"At least yours is hard enough to survive just about any knocks."

"Yuk it up, partner."

"Mulder, did you see any light under the door? Was there a crack?"

"Didn't notice, so probably not. Why?"

"I was just wondering if it was night or day. It was, what, close to six o'clock when we got here?"

"Yeah, that's assuming we're still where we last remember being."

"I don't see why we'd be anywhere else. I'm so thirsty.... Mulder, what are you doing?! Mmmpphh..."

"That help your dry mouth?"

"I—how dare you—wait a—what do you—mmmpphh--"

"I know it's helping me forget about my headache."

"If I could see you I'd—mmmph--"

"I know you would. That's why I'm taking this opportunity."

"When we—get out of here--I'm going to—mmmmmnnnn..."

"I know you will."

"Oh, Mulder."

…

"Agents? What the hell is going on here?!"

"Agent Scully passed out, sir, I was, uh, just reviving her."

"Right. Agent Scully?"

"I, uh, I don't know what happened, sir. I think I did pass out for a moment there."

"Are you both all right? Here, let me help you up; the light should be dim enough that it doesn't bother your eyes. We caught Sykes in the roadblock and as he had your guns and cell phones on him, so we got him to tell us where you were. Jesus, it's dark down there."

"Yeah, we couldn't see a thing. We got each other untied and I hit my head on the stairs and, uh..."

"I thought Agent Scully was the one who passed out."

"Uh, yes sir, I did, but I got dizzy from the darkness, vertigo I think, and we had to sit down and, um, that's all I remember until you opened the door."

"Well, Agents, are you able to drive back or should we have medics out to look at you?"

"No, sir, we're all right. I can drive."

"Fine, then head on home. I'll expect your report on my desk at nine sharp—and I simply cannot wait to hear how one man managed to sneak up behind both of you, tie you up, and get you down into that root cellar. Oh, and Mulder?"

"Sir?"

"I'd highly recommend wiping Agent Scully's lipstick off of your face and neck before anyone else sees you. It really isn't your color."

finis