I had fun with this chapter. Sure, it's not overly important to the plot, but pssh, it was sure as hell fun to write. Enjoy!
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SEPTEMBER 19, 2003
Somewhere over the Atlantic
10:15 PM EST
Amidst the snores, Mulder enjoyed – if not loved – a meal of sausage and mashed potatoes. At least it was served hot, and as an added bonus he had salad, coffee, and a mini Toblerone bar. All included in the price – ah, the joy of British Airways.
Scully was among the lucky majority who did not suffer from insomnia and had donned the sleeping blindfold and was curled under an airline blanket with her head leaning against the window. The seat between them was occupied by none other than her socked feet.
How come she gets two seats and I get one when she's ten inches shorter than me. . .
Because you like her.
I do not.
All right, you love her.
Will you just shut up?
The voice obeyed, leaving behind a fading snicker. Mulder mentally berated the voice, finally tearing his eyes from Scully, her hair rumpled, her face clean of any expression except peaceful slumber.
Told you so.
And I told YOU to shut up!
I can't shut up, I'm you.
That doesn't mean anything.
Oh great, now you're arguing with yourself Fox, just swell, just wonderful, absolutely stupendous. As if they need another excuse to lock you up.
The voice laughed before fading into oblivion, this time for good.
* * *
Sleep evaded him and Mulder settled for watching Pirates of the Caribbean and The Hulk on the screen set into the back of each seat, headphones donned. Scully stirred five hours into the nine hour flight and found it impossible to go back to sleep. She was observably aware of a gnawing hole in her stomach and a huge yawn was enough to drag Mulder out of the movie.
"Where are we, Mulder?"
He changed channels so that she could see the plot of their progress. After displaying the velocity and outside temperature in Spanish, the map came up. They were, quite literally, over the middle of the Atlantic, and for several hundred miles in each direction there was nothing except ocean.
Comforting.
"Do you have anything to eat?" she asked, combing her fingers through her hair. Mulder quenched the irrational impulse to stop seize her hand and slowly return it to the arm rest.
"Some Chex Mix, you can have both," he rummaged through the pocket on the back of the seat in front of him, pushing past the headphones and untouched safety brochures until he emerged, triumphant, with two snack-sized bags of airline brand Chex mix.
Scully tore the first one open and began to empty the contents into her stomach.
"We still have four hours ahead of us, so I thought to pass the time…" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and Scully nearly choked on her cheese-flavored pretzel.
"I am NOT going into the bathroom with you."
He feigned innocence, his eyes widening. "Why Scully, I'm surprised you'd think such a thing. I was merely suggesting we exercise our brains with some lateral thinking puzzlers."
She thought he was joking until he actually pulled out a book of them.
"You're kidding."
"I'll read first." He paused to flip the pages. "Okay, here's an easy one. 'Anthony and Cleopatra are lying dead on the floor of an Egyptian villa. Nearby is a broken bowl. There are no marks on their bodies and they were not poisoned. Not a person was in a villa when they died. How did they die?'"
Scully blinked several times before formulating a response. "Were they human?"
"Nope."
"Were they…in the bowl?"
"You're quick to catch on, Scully."
"All right, so someone knocked over their fishbowl."
"But who? There were no people in the villa."
"Um…a low flying plane?"
"This is the B.C.'s, Scully."
"You never said that."
"Do you give up?"
"No." She thought for a minute, Mulder's grin growing wider with each passing second.
"A dog."
"What kind of dog?"
"It doesn't matter!"
"It does to me." His grin had infected her face as well, and even though she was mad she couldn't help but chuckle.
He spoke, reading from the book, "'They died when their bowl was knocked over by a rather clumsy guard dog.' Oh, and by the way, they were goldfish."
She snatched the book from him, grumbling about getting him back.
"All right, Mr. Know-it-all mega-profiler. Here's one. 'The Deadly block of wood. A man lies dead inside a trailer. He has shot himself. Close by him is a plain block of wood about two feet long by one inch wide. The wood carries no writing or other markings, yet it is fair to say that the sight of this piece of wood on this day caused the man to commit suicide. Why should this be so?'"
"It was carved into a knife and the man took it as a sign to kill himself."
"When I say this takes a leap of logic, Mulder, I mean a real leap."
"Aliens implanted chips into his brain so that he had a phobia of wood and would kill himself upon seeing it."
Scully shook her head in exasperation. "Here's a clue – "
"No, I don't want a clue, let me figure this out."
"You're not going to figure it out, let me give you a clue."
"Okay, he saw the wood and since he was a vampire and knew he'd been discovered because the wood was a stake and was a warning, he faked his own death so he could run away and not be hunted down."
She gave him a 'Look' before continuing.
"Clues: 1) Was the man normal? No. If you can find his abnormality you are close to solving the problem. 2) Did his job depend on his abnormality? Yes; he worked in a circus. 3) Did he use the wood in relation to work? Yes. 4) Had the piece of wood been altered? Yes. 5) Did he commit suicide because he though his ability to do his job had been affected? Yes."
"He was a contortionist." Mulder spoke with surety.
Scully grinned before she shot him down in flames.
"Aw, come on, Scully…just one more hint?"
"That's all the hints there are! Besides, you're the one with the Oxford Degree in psychology! If you can't figure out a little thinking problem from your own book…"
"That hurts, Scully."
She rolled her eyes. "Do you give up?"
"No! All right he was a…midget!"
"Ok, he's a midget, but why'd he kill himself?"
"Because aliens – "
"It has NOTHING to do with aliens, Mulder!" she laughed. The man behind her immediately shushed her and Mulder took advantage of the distraction to seize the book from Scully.
"Hey, that's cheating!" she whispered, leaning over to try and grab the book which he held out of reach while flipping to the back for the answers. "Give it back!"
"Just a minute, Scully, I almost found it…"
Half standing, she managed to retrieve the book just as Mulder arrived at the correct page.
"Come on, pleeaassseee?" Mulder widened his eyes, lower lip jutting out.
"No!" they were still whispering, not wanting to disturb the other passengers. Mulder made a grab at the book but Scully shoved the book under her, a smug smile stretching her face.
"You sure you want to put that there?"
Scully mock glared in response. "Guess, Mulder, or give up!"
"If I guess can I try and get the book?"
"No! Do you give up or not?"
"Sure. Fine. Whatever."
Scully glared at him again before opening the book and flipping to the appropriate page. "'The man was a midget who worked in the circus as a star attraction because of his billing as the world's smallest dwarf. Each day, he measured himself with a piece of wood that was exactly his height. One day, a rival dwarf mischievously sawed two inches form the piece of wood. The man mistakenly thought he had grown and would therefore lose his fame and status as the world's smallest dwarf, so he committed suicide.'"
"How was I supposed to know that?"
"You're the profiler, you tell me!"
"I have the right to remain silent. Anything I say can and will be used against me by my partner. I have the right to an attorney. Seeing as I don't make enough-"
"Wimp." She grinned, popping another pretzel into her mouth.
Mulder fought the childish urge to stick his tongue out at her.