Moonlight glinted off the dry-cleaning bag, her wine and beige suits. She nodded, her head slow and sleepy against her pillow, and glanced at the clock. 4:30 AM. Mulder would be asleep, if his insomniac senses could be dulled for a while. It was her turn to go by and pick him up, since his apartment was closer to the airport. Plus, he had been complaining of a headache for much longer than she had.
Scully began making a checklist inside her head. Suitcase and toiletry bag packed except for what she would need to get ready. Keys and coat by the door. Suit laid out for after the shower and her carry-on bag already held her PowerBook and its accessories.
Scully sighed and sat up. Time to get ready for a convention that was sure to be as much fun for her as Mulder wanted it to be. Well, at least she had met a rather cute nut at the last one. He had seemed in awe of her status as an FBI special agent assigned to the Flaky One, and Scully decided she was either going to have to change her reputation, or choose one and go with it. Mrs. Spooky wouldn't be that bad, and she could rub it in Colton's face.
Knock, knock.
"I know you're in there, Mulder."
Mulder the GQ FBI Ken doll opened the door, clad in a charcoal grey suit. Scully was in wine and ivory, immaculate makeup and hair. She was a touch too chipper for the wee hours of the morning, and his neighbors weren't at all accustomed to such, especially from his apartment. He nodded her inside and went back to tossing clothes inside his suitcase.
"Did my favorite partner have just a little too much coffee this morning?" he asked, looking for some more clean undershirts. He poked his head out of the closet to see her face as she replied.
"You need a new housekeeper," Scully said, looking at his desk in disgust.
"Hey, I know where everything is, except for those damned cattle mutilation slides. Bet Spender stole 'em." Mulder emerged from the closet with a handful of undershirts, shooting an angry look at the ceiling, in memory of another camera, another night.
"Bet me what? That I'll get to drive at least half the way to the convention if I find them within a week?" Scully demanded, putting a hand on her hip.
He took one last glance around before dragging his partner out the door.
This is all I have written, and, as I have no real recollection of where I wanted to go from here, I'm going to let this stand as is, unsatisfactorily incomplete. If anyone wants to pick it up and continue, feel free, just let me know.
