IX

Scully paced her apartment, wondering what was taking him so long. Flat tire? Car won't start? Car blown up? Apartment building blown up? Hell there could have been a nuclear holocaust and she wouldn't have noticed it with the amount of butterflies dancing around in her stomach. Now she wished she'd insisted on picking him up, but it did make sense as she lived on the way to Connecticut from his place.

He'd been supposed to pick her up at ten and here it was quarter until eleven. She didn't want to call and sound too eager after that last phone call regarding their tryst, but she was also getting more worried than annoyed. For as often as he ran late he usually called.

At eleven she couldn't stand it anymore and called his home phone. After four rings, right before the machine would have picked it up, he answered sounding very groggy. "Mulder."

"It's your partner. Are you still sleeping?"

"Oh, fuck! I forgot to set the alarm! Damn it! I'm sorry, Scully, I'll be there in twenty minutes."

"Make it thirty and have a shower," she said. "And don't speed, you don't need to get in an accident or get a ticket."

"Jesus I'm really sorry about this," he said groggily. "I had a hard time getting to sleep last night or I never would have slept in this late."

"Don't worry about it, Mulder. I know how you are with that alarm," she said, making sure to inject humor into her voice. "Just shower and get over here."

Half an hour later to the minute he pulled up out front and they met in the hallway, Scully carrying her overnight bag and carryall, both of which he took from her. As always he looked awesome in casual clothes, a pair of tight black jeans which were too long and wrinkled over the tops of his running shoes, a plain light grey t-shirt tucked into the beltless waistband. She was wearing a pair of khaki cargo pants with a snug, scoop-necked white t-shirt and sandals, determined to make the most of this vacation no matter what ended up happening.

"I've decided on your penance," she told him with a grin as they headed for his car. She noted that not only was his hair still wet, it was dripping rivulets down the sides of his face. "You can take me to lunch as soon as we get there. I've always wanted to try the S&P Oyster Company restaurant—my dad used to eat there every time he went to the naval base in nearby Groton and he raved about it. I hear it's ex-pen-sive."

He groaned as he popped the trunk and slung her bags inside. "If that's what it takes," he said as they headed for their doors, his grin belaying his words. "Can you wait two hours, though?"

"I got up early and had a good breakfast," she pointed out. "Unlike someone I know."

As they pulled away from the curb he glanced over at her with a crooked grin before putting his eyes back on the road. "That's what Mickey D's is for," he smirked.

"Ugh! Better you than me."

"And better an Egg McMuffin than your dry wheat bagel with bee droppings or whatever it is this week," he teased right back.

The drive up to Connecticut turned out to be pleasant and stress-free despite their sniping, even when she insisted on making him stop to throw out the empty McDonald's bag because the smell was making her nauseous.

They arrived in Mystic a little after one-thirty and she spotted the restaurant right away; the town wasn't very big and it was on the main drag just before the famous bascule bridge. "Did you want to eat first or go check in?" he asked as they neared the restaurant.

"Eat first," she said. "I'm starving."

"Food it is," he said agreeably, turning into the parking lot. But as he did so, a car suddenly began to back out of one of the parking slots and he swerved, narrowly missing them and the row of cars on the other side as well. "Is someone upstairs deliberately trying to wreck this for us?" he said as he pulled into a parking spot, alluding to their argument from a few weeks back. "That's all we'd need now, an accident to delay us even longer."

She chuckled. "I think if that was the case it would take more than getting broadsided by a clueless driver or even everything else that's stopped us before this," she said as they walked towards the entrance of the restaurant.

"Something more like a burning bush or lightning strike?" Mulder said, holding the door for her. "Or stone tablets graven with 'thou shalt not sleep with thine partner' on them?"

Scully had to stifle a guffaw as they joined the short line waiting for a table. "How much do you want to bet Skinner has those in his closet just waiting for the right time to put them on your desk?" she snickered.

Mulder apparently had no such compunctions and did bellow a laugh, ignoring the few people who turned to look at them. "I think if he had them he'd have used them by now," he chuckled as they moved up. "Although I do think he's one of few who doesn't assume that we've been sleeping together for years now."

"Do you think he'll suspect when we get back?" she asked, frowning slightly. This hadn't occurred to her until now.

"If he doesn't catch us in flagrante delicto, how's he going to prove anything?" Mulder said reasonably then to the hostess, "Two, non-smoking, by a window if you've got it."

"Well, the reason we're doing this is to stop the sexual tension between us; what if he notices it's gone?" she said as they followed the hostess through the bright room with its trademark red and white walls to a small table by a bank of long windows looking out onto the Mystic River. "We'll most certainly be much more relaxed and comfortable with each other."

"I don't know that it'll be noticeable to anyone other than us," Mulder said, picking up the menu. "Hey, want to start with the Seafood Stuffed Potato Skins?"

Once he got to talking about food she knew that was the end of that particular conversation and gave it up for the time being.