Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, because if I did, they'd probably be having wild sex every Sunday night instead of just making eyes at each other and fighting over Scully. If you want to pay for this, pay Chris Carter and the folks at FOX.
Author's Note: This is slash (it contains material of a sexual nature about characters of the same sex). If you don't like slash, please don't complain to me. I *do* like slash, so you get no sympathy from me.
"After Midnight" is dedicated to all the die-hard fans out there who want M/D stuff-this one's for you.
After Midnight
by BJ Garrett
2:07 am
ConSpiro Cyber Technologies, Baltimore, MD
It was a cold night in early March. The parking lot of ConSpiro Cyber Technologies was slick with ice and fuzzy with frost. The night watchman's breath made a thick cloud of fog as he rounded the corner of the building, ignoring the hulk of a black luxury sedan in the farthest corner of the lot and the shadowed pair within. 'Probably just a couple of teenagers,' he thought to himself as he swung his billyclub. 'Nothing like a little lovin' warmth on a night like this.'
Neither of the car's companions was so romantically inclined. Mulder was hunched in the driver's seat, fiddling with an unopened bag of sunflower seeds, while Doggett leaned on the dashboard, peering at the squat concrete building through a long pair of binoculars.
Finally, Mulder gave up on the packet of seeds and sought solace in conversation. "Why exactly are we here?"
"It's a stake-out," Doggett answered slowly, as he would to a handicapped child.
"But what about me? I mean, I don't even work for the FBI any more."
Stifling a comment about that sorry situation, Doggett rolled his eyes and said, "Agent Reyes had plans, and I didn't want to sit in a cold car in a deserted parking lot by myself."
"So you called me?"
"Yes." That much was obvious, at least to him.
Mulder shook his head and looked sideways at his companion. "Thinking I would want to sit in a cold car in a deserted parking lot with you?"
Suddenly tired of dealing with Mulder's vacillations between idiocy and sarcasm, Doggett snapped, "If you want to go, there's the door. Go a--what the hell?"
Two white-coated men entered a second-floor room and set down the trays they were carrying.
Mulder sat up and wiped at the frosty window. "What?"
"There's people in there," Doggett replied, almost incredulously. He'd thought this stakeout was just a way to keep him busy for a couple of days while the real trails got cold.
Mouthing some choice words, Mulder leaned back and put his feet on the seat beside him. "It's a government lab. Of course there are people in there."
"But it's after midnight."
One of the technicians said something, and the other laughed. They moved around the room, adjusting equipment on the counters.
"You think all the covert conspiracy stuff happens between nine and five?"
Doggett conceded with a shrug. "I guess not." 'Doesn't look like such a conspiracy to me, a couple of techies straightening up the lab.'
The dark-haired man, who wore glasses and was the taller of the two, took of his lab coat and loosened his tie. The other, smaller, with sandy hair, removed his coat and undid the buttons on his polo shirt.
There was a short pause, and Mulder picked up the packet again, snapping the seal back and forth, trying to get it to open. He looked over at Doggett, noting the rock-hard set of his jaw and the little crinkles beside his eye as he squinted into the binoculars.
The silence in the car seemed oppressive, and Mulder spoke suddenly to abate his thoughts. "What are they doing?"
The short technician moved up to the taller one and removed his glasses as their lips met in a passionate kiss.
"I don't--oh my God." Doggett pulled away from the binoculars and blinked rapidly.
"What?"
He hurriedly grabbed the case and shoved them inside. "Nothing."
Mulder's curiosity was piqued. "Nothing?" he asked, leaning over to look out the defrosted section of windshield.
Moving away from him, Doggett muttered, "Yeah."
Unable to get a peek at what was going on, Mulder gestured at the case in Doggett's lap. "Lemme see."
"No."
A quick lunge for the case proved fruitless, so Mulder sat back on his side of the car and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel while Doggett crossed his arms around himself tightly and burrowed into his thick jacket, glacial eyes glued to the second floor window he'd been looking into with the binoculars.
Two tiny figures moved in the square of the window, nearly silhouetted by the security lights around the building and in the parking lot.
Picking up the sunflower seeds again, Mulder inquired, "What's your problem, Doggett?"
Not looking away from the window, Doggett was steadfast. "Nothing."
The interior of the car was quiet again, except for the plastic rustling of the seed bag. After a silent curse or two, Mulder succeeded in opening the packet, and rolled down the window an inch or two further. He commenced eating the seeds, putting one in his mouth and worrying it for a second or two, then violently spitting the seed out the gap in the window.
This continued for a few minutes. Doggett looked over irritatedly. "Maybe the car wouldn't be so cold if you shut the window," he said peevishly.
Mulder spit and put another seed in his mouth before replying. "Bite me."
Doggett shook his head and turned back to the window. But the steady quiet crunching and rustling of the packet drew his eyes back to his companion. He watched eagle-eyed as Mulder gripped the seed with his lips before taking it in his even teeth and chipping the shell away. His watcher thought fleetingly of the way the technicians had embraced, knowing exactly where each other's mouths were, and where to put their arms. When Mulder was satisfied with the nudity of the seed, he stowed it between two back teeth-Doggett could tell by the bulge it made in his lean cheek-and expertly spit the shattered shell out the window.
When Mulder was halfway through the packet, Doggett sighed and asked the question which had been burning in his mind.
"Why do you do that?"
Teeth buried in a seed, Mulder beetled his eyebrows and said, "Do what?"
"Spit the shells like that?"
He spit the shell and said patiently, "Because I don't like the shells."
Doggett nodded, still confounded, then persisted. "So buy the pre-shelled ones."
After shrugging equably, Mulder replied, "I would, but it's not about the seed, it's about the shell."
"The shell you're spittin' all over the parking lot?" Doggett asked dryly.
Taking the opportunity to shock the former cop, Mulder replied with a suddenly intense voice and glazed eyes, "Yes. It's about crushing the shell, destroying it."
"Okay, Mulder. Whatever you say." Doggett turned away, shaking his head again.
Annoyed that his trick hadn't worked, Mulder cast his eyes around the car. Spying the case, now resting at Doggett's feet, he said, "Give me the binoculars."
"No." 'Why won't he leave that bone alone?' Doggett wondered worriedly.
"You ask me to come on a stake-out with you, and I'm not even allowed to use the binoculars."
Doggett ignored him, choosing not to ask if he was still certified to use government equipment.
"Tell me what's going on."
"It's just a couple of technicians." Well, technically, it was one technician, hands below the windowsill, head thrown back, chest heaving. The other technician had... disappeared.
"Tell me what they're doing."
"No."
"Then I'll just go up to the window and see for myself."
Doggett was tempted to let him go, but as Mulder put his hand on the door handle, he spied the watchman coming back around the corner and pulled him back roughly, handing him the binoculars with a look of drawn resignation-much like a martyr to the stake.
"Whoa." Had this been a cartoon, Mulder's baby browns would've been peeking out the other end of the lenses.
Putting a hand over his eyes and leaning back, Doggett nodded. "Yeah."
"Who knew what kind of covert conspiracy stuff was happening at this lab. Bow-chicka-bow-wow." Mulder accompanied his sound effect with a slapping motion against his thigh.
Trying to distract his car-mate from the action, Doggett said bemusedly, "Why d'you think they're doing that?"
Mulder shrugged and adjusted the focus. "Why not?"
"Well, I mean..." As soon as it was out of his mouth, he'd known it was a question that would lead where he didn't want to go. Didn't he?
"You mean you never considered the possibility?" Mulder asked, glancing over at him.
Attempting to close the subject, Doggett said firmly, "Not really. And that's putting it lightly."
There was quiet again, a companionable quiet from the driver's side and a tense one from the passenger's. Mulder licked his lips several times and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Sweat popped out on his forehead and his hands shook subtly on the binoculars. Doggett, who finally sat up and cleared his throat authoritatively, observed all this with mounting dismay.
"Gimme those back, Mulder."
Absently, he replied, "Why?"
"You're foggin' up the windows."
As if returning from a dream, Mulder disengaged himself from the binoculars and looked around himself. "Oh. Here." They were both careful not to let their fingers touch as the binoculars were handed back.
"Thanks," Doggett said wryly, setting them on the floor under the dash.
For some reason surprised, Mulder asked, "What, you're not going to watch?"
"Why would I?"
"It's...interesting."
"So that's what that drawer in your desk is." He smiled and chuckled to himself.
Unaware of any 'drawers' left in the office, Mulder asked, "What drawer?"
"The one Agent Scully never let me open and never emptied out."
"She has the key."
"No, she doesn't."
"It was on my key chain, which she took after I disappeared."
"She gave the keys for the office to me."
"So why didn't you open the drawer?"
"I was afraid of what was in it." At the 'was,' Mulder looked at him speculatively. "I still am."
An understanding smile quirked his full lips. "Well, it's quality stuff."
"Not my thing."
Turning to the window, Mulder scratched his chin and muttered, "That's what they all say."
Doggett squinted warily. "What'd you say?"
"Nothing." Seeing that the agent didn't believe him, Mulder gestured to the binoculars at his feet. "Look, if you're not going to watch, give me those back."
Thinking of the other man's shaking hands a few minutes ago, Doggett denied him. "No."
"Why not?" Mulder demanded indignantly.
"We're here on official business, not to take in some homo porn show." Even though that was true, some new part of him yearned to look in the window again. Or just look over at Mulder.
"Doggett, I didn't know you had it in you," Mulder said with mock astonishment.
Drawing his eyebrows together, Doggett asked, "What?"
"Bigotry. Give me the binoculars."
Hurt by the insult, Doggett crossed his feet over the case. "No."
"You might be here on official business, but I, quite frankly, would rather be here for the show, even if I still worked for The Man."
A grin spontaneously split Doggett's face. "The Man?" he chuckled.
"Yeah." Noting his disarmament, Mulder tried the quick gimme. "Give me the binoculars."
Refusing to be caught of guard, Doggett's smile disappeared and he reiterated the main plot device: "You can't have them."
Mulder surreptitiously batted his eyes. "Come on. Please? Please?" When begging didn't seem to help, he sat back and suggested coyly, "At least tell me what's going on."
Shocked at himself for being surprised by that one again, Doggett said, "What?"
"You look, and tell me what they're doing," Mulder replied with a one-shouldered shrug.
"I don't think so." Doggett shook his head and looked away.
"Then give me the binoculars."
"No."
Mulder lunged for the case again, but met significant resistance. They shoved at each other for a few minutes, until Doggett's back was against the window, one leg on the bench seat, and Mulder was sprawled on top of him, hands on either side of his head. Their eyes met with adrenalised fury, and their panting breath mingled visibly in the cold.
"Get offa me," Doggett finally whispered, pushing at Mulder's chest.
"Give me the binoculars," Mulder replied, leaning in closer.
Eyes widening in mated fear and curiosity, Doggett pressed back against the door. As the inches closed, he grabbed the case and shoved it at Mulder, pushing the other man off of him.
Shifting back into the driver's seat, Mulder looked down at his prize. Suddenly, it seemed petty. Lifting his eyes to the second floor window, he fitted the binoculars over them and was greeted with the sight of the technicians stoically buttoning their shirts and throwing their coats over their arms before exiting the lab, the room darkening behind them. He bit his lip and put the binoculars back in their case, snapping it securely and placing it on the seat between them.
Doggett had settled back into his own seat and closed his eyes with embarrassed anguish as Mulder picked up the binoculars. When they were lowered seconds later and put on the seat, safely ensconced in their case, he looked over at the man in the driver's seat, who didn't look back. He checked his watch.
"It's 3:00 am," he said, trying to lighten the mood but making it heavier instead. "Let's get out of here."
"No arguments," Mulder replied wearily, turning the key that hung from the ignition.
Looking out the window as they exited the parking lot, Doggett's fingers touched his somehow hungry lips fleetingly and thought, 'I shouldn't've let him drive.'
THE END
Author's Note: This is slash (it contains material of a sexual nature about characters of the same sex). If you don't like slash, please don't complain to me. I *do* like slash, so you get no sympathy from me.
"After Midnight" is dedicated to all the die-hard fans out there who want M/D stuff-this one's for you.
After Midnight
by BJ Garrett
2:07 am
ConSpiro Cyber Technologies, Baltimore, MD
It was a cold night in early March. The parking lot of ConSpiro Cyber Technologies was slick with ice and fuzzy with frost. The night watchman's breath made a thick cloud of fog as he rounded the corner of the building, ignoring the hulk of a black luxury sedan in the farthest corner of the lot and the shadowed pair within. 'Probably just a couple of teenagers,' he thought to himself as he swung his billyclub. 'Nothing like a little lovin' warmth on a night like this.'
Neither of the car's companions was so romantically inclined. Mulder was hunched in the driver's seat, fiddling with an unopened bag of sunflower seeds, while Doggett leaned on the dashboard, peering at the squat concrete building through a long pair of binoculars.
Finally, Mulder gave up on the packet of seeds and sought solace in conversation. "Why exactly are we here?"
"It's a stake-out," Doggett answered slowly, as he would to a handicapped child.
"But what about me? I mean, I don't even work for the FBI any more."
Stifling a comment about that sorry situation, Doggett rolled his eyes and said, "Agent Reyes had plans, and I didn't want to sit in a cold car in a deserted parking lot by myself."
"So you called me?"
"Yes." That much was obvious, at least to him.
Mulder shook his head and looked sideways at his companion. "Thinking I would want to sit in a cold car in a deserted parking lot with you?"
Suddenly tired of dealing with Mulder's vacillations between idiocy and sarcasm, Doggett snapped, "If you want to go, there's the door. Go a--what the hell?"
Two white-coated men entered a second-floor room and set down the trays they were carrying.
Mulder sat up and wiped at the frosty window. "What?"
"There's people in there," Doggett replied, almost incredulously. He'd thought this stakeout was just a way to keep him busy for a couple of days while the real trails got cold.
Mouthing some choice words, Mulder leaned back and put his feet on the seat beside him. "It's a government lab. Of course there are people in there."
"But it's after midnight."
One of the technicians said something, and the other laughed. They moved around the room, adjusting equipment on the counters.
"You think all the covert conspiracy stuff happens between nine and five?"
Doggett conceded with a shrug. "I guess not." 'Doesn't look like such a conspiracy to me, a couple of techies straightening up the lab.'
The dark-haired man, who wore glasses and was the taller of the two, took of his lab coat and loosened his tie. The other, smaller, with sandy hair, removed his coat and undid the buttons on his polo shirt.
There was a short pause, and Mulder picked up the packet again, snapping the seal back and forth, trying to get it to open. He looked over at Doggett, noting the rock-hard set of his jaw and the little crinkles beside his eye as he squinted into the binoculars.
The silence in the car seemed oppressive, and Mulder spoke suddenly to abate his thoughts. "What are they doing?"
The short technician moved up to the taller one and removed his glasses as their lips met in a passionate kiss.
"I don't--oh my God." Doggett pulled away from the binoculars and blinked rapidly.
"What?"
He hurriedly grabbed the case and shoved them inside. "Nothing."
Mulder's curiosity was piqued. "Nothing?" he asked, leaning over to look out the defrosted section of windshield.
Moving away from him, Doggett muttered, "Yeah."
Unable to get a peek at what was going on, Mulder gestured at the case in Doggett's lap. "Lemme see."
"No."
A quick lunge for the case proved fruitless, so Mulder sat back on his side of the car and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel while Doggett crossed his arms around himself tightly and burrowed into his thick jacket, glacial eyes glued to the second floor window he'd been looking into with the binoculars.
Two tiny figures moved in the square of the window, nearly silhouetted by the security lights around the building and in the parking lot.
Picking up the sunflower seeds again, Mulder inquired, "What's your problem, Doggett?"
Not looking away from the window, Doggett was steadfast. "Nothing."
The interior of the car was quiet again, except for the plastic rustling of the seed bag. After a silent curse or two, Mulder succeeded in opening the packet, and rolled down the window an inch or two further. He commenced eating the seeds, putting one in his mouth and worrying it for a second or two, then violently spitting the seed out the gap in the window.
This continued for a few minutes. Doggett looked over irritatedly. "Maybe the car wouldn't be so cold if you shut the window," he said peevishly.
Mulder spit and put another seed in his mouth before replying. "Bite me."
Doggett shook his head and turned back to the window. But the steady quiet crunching and rustling of the packet drew his eyes back to his companion. He watched eagle-eyed as Mulder gripped the seed with his lips before taking it in his even teeth and chipping the shell away. His watcher thought fleetingly of the way the technicians had embraced, knowing exactly where each other's mouths were, and where to put their arms. When Mulder was satisfied with the nudity of the seed, he stowed it between two back teeth-Doggett could tell by the bulge it made in his lean cheek-and expertly spit the shattered shell out the window.
When Mulder was halfway through the packet, Doggett sighed and asked the question which had been burning in his mind.
"Why do you do that?"
Teeth buried in a seed, Mulder beetled his eyebrows and said, "Do what?"
"Spit the shells like that?"
He spit the shell and said patiently, "Because I don't like the shells."
Doggett nodded, still confounded, then persisted. "So buy the pre-shelled ones."
After shrugging equably, Mulder replied, "I would, but it's not about the seed, it's about the shell."
"The shell you're spittin' all over the parking lot?" Doggett asked dryly.
Taking the opportunity to shock the former cop, Mulder replied with a suddenly intense voice and glazed eyes, "Yes. It's about crushing the shell, destroying it."
"Okay, Mulder. Whatever you say." Doggett turned away, shaking his head again.
Annoyed that his trick hadn't worked, Mulder cast his eyes around the car. Spying the case, now resting at Doggett's feet, he said, "Give me the binoculars."
"No." 'Why won't he leave that bone alone?' Doggett wondered worriedly.
"You ask me to come on a stake-out with you, and I'm not even allowed to use the binoculars."
Doggett ignored him, choosing not to ask if he was still certified to use government equipment.
"Tell me what's going on."
"It's just a couple of technicians." Well, technically, it was one technician, hands below the windowsill, head thrown back, chest heaving. The other technician had... disappeared.
"Tell me what they're doing."
"No."
"Then I'll just go up to the window and see for myself."
Doggett was tempted to let him go, but as Mulder put his hand on the door handle, he spied the watchman coming back around the corner and pulled him back roughly, handing him the binoculars with a look of drawn resignation-much like a martyr to the stake.
"Whoa." Had this been a cartoon, Mulder's baby browns would've been peeking out the other end of the lenses.
Putting a hand over his eyes and leaning back, Doggett nodded. "Yeah."
"Who knew what kind of covert conspiracy stuff was happening at this lab. Bow-chicka-bow-wow." Mulder accompanied his sound effect with a slapping motion against his thigh.
Trying to distract his car-mate from the action, Doggett said bemusedly, "Why d'you think they're doing that?"
Mulder shrugged and adjusted the focus. "Why not?"
"Well, I mean..." As soon as it was out of his mouth, he'd known it was a question that would lead where he didn't want to go. Didn't he?
"You mean you never considered the possibility?" Mulder asked, glancing over at him.
Attempting to close the subject, Doggett said firmly, "Not really. And that's putting it lightly."
There was quiet again, a companionable quiet from the driver's side and a tense one from the passenger's. Mulder licked his lips several times and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Sweat popped out on his forehead and his hands shook subtly on the binoculars. Doggett, who finally sat up and cleared his throat authoritatively, observed all this with mounting dismay.
"Gimme those back, Mulder."
Absently, he replied, "Why?"
"You're foggin' up the windows."
As if returning from a dream, Mulder disengaged himself from the binoculars and looked around himself. "Oh. Here." They were both careful not to let their fingers touch as the binoculars were handed back.
"Thanks," Doggett said wryly, setting them on the floor under the dash.
For some reason surprised, Mulder asked, "What, you're not going to watch?"
"Why would I?"
"It's...interesting."
"So that's what that drawer in your desk is." He smiled and chuckled to himself.
Unaware of any 'drawers' left in the office, Mulder asked, "What drawer?"
"The one Agent Scully never let me open and never emptied out."
"She has the key."
"No, she doesn't."
"It was on my key chain, which she took after I disappeared."
"She gave the keys for the office to me."
"So why didn't you open the drawer?"
"I was afraid of what was in it." At the 'was,' Mulder looked at him speculatively. "I still am."
An understanding smile quirked his full lips. "Well, it's quality stuff."
"Not my thing."
Turning to the window, Mulder scratched his chin and muttered, "That's what they all say."
Doggett squinted warily. "What'd you say?"
"Nothing." Seeing that the agent didn't believe him, Mulder gestured to the binoculars at his feet. "Look, if you're not going to watch, give me those back."
Thinking of the other man's shaking hands a few minutes ago, Doggett denied him. "No."
"Why not?" Mulder demanded indignantly.
"We're here on official business, not to take in some homo porn show." Even though that was true, some new part of him yearned to look in the window again. Or just look over at Mulder.
"Doggett, I didn't know you had it in you," Mulder said with mock astonishment.
Drawing his eyebrows together, Doggett asked, "What?"
"Bigotry. Give me the binoculars."
Hurt by the insult, Doggett crossed his feet over the case. "No."
"You might be here on official business, but I, quite frankly, would rather be here for the show, even if I still worked for The Man."
A grin spontaneously split Doggett's face. "The Man?" he chuckled.
"Yeah." Noting his disarmament, Mulder tried the quick gimme. "Give me the binoculars."
Refusing to be caught of guard, Doggett's smile disappeared and he reiterated the main plot device: "You can't have them."
Mulder surreptitiously batted his eyes. "Come on. Please? Please?" When begging didn't seem to help, he sat back and suggested coyly, "At least tell me what's going on."
Shocked at himself for being surprised by that one again, Doggett said, "What?"
"You look, and tell me what they're doing," Mulder replied with a one-shouldered shrug.
"I don't think so." Doggett shook his head and looked away.
"Then give me the binoculars."
"No."
Mulder lunged for the case again, but met significant resistance. They shoved at each other for a few minutes, until Doggett's back was against the window, one leg on the bench seat, and Mulder was sprawled on top of him, hands on either side of his head. Their eyes met with adrenalised fury, and their panting breath mingled visibly in the cold.
"Get offa me," Doggett finally whispered, pushing at Mulder's chest.
"Give me the binoculars," Mulder replied, leaning in closer.
Eyes widening in mated fear and curiosity, Doggett pressed back against the door. As the inches closed, he grabbed the case and shoved it at Mulder, pushing the other man off of him.
Shifting back into the driver's seat, Mulder looked down at his prize. Suddenly, it seemed petty. Lifting his eyes to the second floor window, he fitted the binoculars over them and was greeted with the sight of the technicians stoically buttoning their shirts and throwing their coats over their arms before exiting the lab, the room darkening behind them. He bit his lip and put the binoculars back in their case, snapping it securely and placing it on the seat between them.
Doggett had settled back into his own seat and closed his eyes with embarrassed anguish as Mulder picked up the binoculars. When they were lowered seconds later and put on the seat, safely ensconced in their case, he looked over at the man in the driver's seat, who didn't look back. He checked his watch.
"It's 3:00 am," he said, trying to lighten the mood but making it heavier instead. "Let's get out of here."
"No arguments," Mulder replied wearily, turning the key that hung from the ignition.
Looking out the window as they exited the parking lot, Doggett's fingers touched his somehow hungry lips fleetingly and thought, 'I shouldn't've let him drive.'
THE END