Disclaimer: Chris Carter and the gang have redeemed themselves with the new season, I am happy to say that these two are in the possession of Ten Thirteen. But don't we all like getting off on "borrowing" them for a while? :-)

Rating: This chapter is...PG. Will be NC-17 later.

Spoilers: Post-all things.

Author's Notes: Back to writing Mulder POV. Flows so much easier!

Feedback: If you're a writer, you understand how important it is. If you are not, I hope you realize how important it is. I never understood until I started writing. On a story I published not even a week ago, There's been 2200 views, with 21 reviews. Ijs. But, anyway, Thanks for reading. Here you go. :)


A few minutes later, we are back on the road. I'm opening up a fresh bag of seeds, we have about 2 hours left to drive.

After a few more minutes, I'm bored again. "Scully, we really don't know each other that well, if you think about it. Things like…what is your favorite food? I don't even know."

She looks at me a moment before settling on, "Salad, you know that." She folds her hands, resting them on top of her crossed legs.

"No, not what you eat every day. Your guilty pleasure."

"Mmm." She nods, understanding. "Cheesecake."

"Cheesecake? Huh..." Not what I would have guessed.

"A good, thick cheesecake. Not New York style. And plain, unadulterated by chocolate or strawberries." She's gazing out the front windshield at the road ahead of us.

Suddenly cheesecake doesn't sound nearly as boring anymore. In fact she makes it sound downright sinful. I clear my throat. "Ok..." I clear it again.

"And you, Mulder?"

I take another few moments to clear my thoughts, pushing away visions of her pleasure. "Me? I don't know, Scully, do men really have guilty pleasure foods? I want it, I eat it."

"Ok, your favorite dessert?"

"Birthday cake."

"Birthday cake?"

"You heard me, birthday cake. Rather, birthday cake icing. Butter cream, not that whipped crap everyone uses these days."

"Is that why you pop in to all the secretaries' birthday parties?" Skeptical Scully.

"It is." I laugh at the look on her face, "I am serious."

Her face softens, she wasn't serious of course. "It's pure sugar."

"It's a mouthful of utter, unadulterated happiness. Don't look so surprised, I have fleeting moments of happiness." I'm having one right now, actually, as her face softens into another smile. I hold her eyes a moment, sure I'm smiling a little myself, before looking at the road again. "Cinematic, guilty pleasure...and go." I point at her before digging for another seed.

"Hm...I...No. It's your turn to go first."

"I wasn't aware we were taking turns."

"If you want me to answer that, Mulder, we are taking turns."

"Ok..." I tap my fingers on the steering wheel a few times and look around, as if anyone could hear me. "Grease."

"Grease?"

I laugh. "Is there an echo in here, Scully? Yes, 'Grease is the word.'"

"Mulder..." It takes her a few seconds, then her face splits into another toothy grin. "Mulder...?"

"Go ahead and laugh. Yes, I love that movie. I was 16 when it came out and Olivia Newton-John was a babe."

"Yes, I bet you fell hard at the end."

"No, Scully, it wasn't like that." At her doubtful look, I pause, then explain further. "You seem to think I've had a type...until...now, correct?" One subtle nod. "When I was 16, believe it or not, I wasn't very popular. My mom pushed me out the door one day, wanting me out of the house for...I shudder to think what, now. Besides baseball, I didn't participate in much of anything. And while I wasn't beat up much, I was pretty much invisible to other kids at school. I was ok with that, most of the time. Anyway, one day, she told me to get my nose out of that book and go do something with my friends. Not HAVING any friends, I just went for a walk, deciding to go to the library and look through the latest National Geographics. I was walking past the movie theater when I saw the poster for Grease, you know the one. I had heard people at school buzzing about it, but wasn't even sure what it was about. Well, of course I must have thought Olivia Newton-John looked pretty, but I distinctly remember thinking John Travolta looked pretty cool." I stop for a moment to glance at her.

"Of course." I match her smile.

"So I bought a ticket. I was in love, as in love as a socially awkward 16 year old kid can be, with Sandy from the start. She was pure, 'too pure to be Pink,' and so different from any girl I'd ever met. I really felt like I'd been born two decades too late, that a sweet high school girl like that could only be found in the 50s, like in the movie. I saw the movie 6 times at theater in the following month. I made friends with an equally awkward red headed kid named Frankie after seeing him there to watch the movie, also more than once. We both liked Elvis, we both wanted to be a T-Bird, and were both desperately in love with Sandy. BEFORE her transformation. I mean, of course she looked great at the end, but she wouldn't have captured me like she did earlier in the movie..." I glance at her again, aware of the fact I've been rambling.

"That is very surprising, coming from you. 16 years old, falling for petite 'Sandra Dee.'"

I glance at Scully once more, trying to read her vague expression. I crunch down on a seed. "What?"

She smirks and shakes her head once, a familiar look on her face once more. "I just can't believe you can still surprise me, Mulder."

"All of the off the wall, crackpot theories I come up with, this is what surprises you?"

"That's exactly it. That was a very normal story coming from you."

"Your turn."

She exhales, loudly, looking down and covering her face. "I can't tell you this," she says, her voice muffled by her hands.

"You, Scully, of all people, admitted to enjoying Wham! I'm not sure you could surprise me any more than that."

"I wouldn't bet on that."

I laugh and pull one of her hands away from her face, my fingers lingering on hers a bit longer than I meant them to. But she didn't pull away, either. I clear my throat, thinking about how soon we can get home. "Is it Beaches? If it's Beaches, I'll kick you out of this car right now."

"No..."

"Pretty Woman?"

"Mulder, please. That's a fairy tale."

"Not like any fairy tale I ever saw." I lean closer to her, talking low. "I need to talk to your mother?" I smile when she laughs. "But, a man could PLAUSIBLY fall in love with a hooker. What? Don't look at me like that, I'm not saying I know that first hand." I shake my head dramatically. "Anyway, give it up. What's your movie?"

She takes a deep breath before saying, "Ghostbusters" and looking out the window.
I am looking back and forth, back and forth, between the road and her profile for so long, she must think that I didn't hear her. She looks at me with a question in her eyes.

"You're serious?" She rolls her eyes, and I know she is. "Scully..." I recall hearing the same tone in my voice when she once suggested spontaneous human combustion, smiling like a dumbass.

"It's funny!"

"Oh, yeah, it's funny. You know what else, Scully? It has ghosts in it. Real live ghosts."

"No, NOT real live ghosts, Mulder because it's a movie. A very funny movie." I'm chuckling at her, low in my throat. "You know what else? Dr. Venkman is very funny and handsome. He and Dana have a very witty banter." I shoot her a mock wounded look, wit is my thing. "Actually, the last time I watched it was during my illness, looking for something to cheer me up. I hadn't watched in years before that. But I was surprised to learn that Dr. Venkman very much reminded me of you."

"I, uh…should I be flattered?"

She smirks again, "Yes, Mulder."

"Wait, you don't own that movie. I've looked at your movies, you don't own Ghostbusters."

"Of course I don't. It's a guilty pleasure. I don't want that in my permanent collection. I rent it now and again…You don't own Grease."

I smile at her. "Yes I do. It's in a blank VHS tape box, labeled UFO sightings." I smile more at her laughter. "I've never told anyone that."


To Be Continued...