The following is a short response to a challenge recently issued.
Rating- PG
Disclaimer- These charaters don't belong to me. They are property of FOX,
CC, 1013, etc...
Spoilers- Miniscule mention of Momento Mori
SMALL POTATOES
~by GMD614@aol.com (comments greatly appreciated)
"Find anything?"
"Aside from the obvious signs of the gunshot wound, Mulder, this man was
as healthy as the other four."
"Well, the detectives on the scene found her signature."
Mulder held up a plastic evidence bag containing a small potato.
"Strange calling card. A potato. I don't get it, Mulder. Have any
ideas?"
"Don't you mean *rational* ideas," he said with a lopsided grin planted
on his face.
"At this point, I'll even listen to your 'extreme possibilities'."
"You performed the autopsies, Doctor. What do you think? Any connections
beyond the gunshot wounds?"
"Thirty-ish males, found unclothed, all strangled. Crimes sexual in
nature though only three of the five men had vaginal residue on their sex
organs. Same woman engaged in intercourse with those men. She's a red-head,
concluded from hair samples found on the men...and don't even think about
commenting, Mulder."
Snorting and flashing a rare full-faced smile, Mulder turned and headed
for the door.
"Finish up in here, Scully and we'll call it a night. I'll even buy you
dinner," he said as he disappeared into the hall.
Scully smiled. They'd been spending so much *off-duty* time together
ever since her diagnosis. She never felt better about their partnership, or
about Mulder these days. The subtlties of their relationship began turning
toward a light, easy romance and Scully wasn't about to stop it. It felt good
to *feel*. Her answers were so near. She was going to beat this cancer - if
only for Mulder's sensitivity and determination.
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As promised, Mulder treated Scully to a wonderful meal in an off-beat
little bistro. After a bottle of wine and a full stomach, Scully was feeling
very relaxed, gently swaying to the soft music played by the pianist.
"Power."
"Excuse me, Scully?"
"Power...isn't that why she's killing these men? To regain some sense of
lost power?"
"That's a possibility - a good possibility. Tell me more, Scully. Why
this crime? What is she saying with the crime itself?"
Scully giggled, a sound foreign to Mulder's ears. She was tipsy and
giggling and it was beginning to get to him. Suddenly the room started to
get very warm, for seeing Scully at such ease was quite enchanting.
"Well, the crime is sexual, but the men all appear to have been willing.
Not rape."
"Go on."
"She lures them...seduces them. No sign of struggle beyond normal
sexual...stuff."
"Define 'normal sexual stuff', Agent Scully. I'm unfamiliar with your
particular use of that phrase," Mulder chuckled.
"You know, fingernails raking down backs, general bumping, grinding,
rubbing of various body parts, swollen and bruised lips, perhaps a bite make
here and there..."
"Personal experience plays heavily in this case for you, doesn't Agent
Scully? Maybe I should take a hair sample to the lab for analysis. You are a
true red-head, aren't you?"
The sound of her laughter pulled Mulder deeper into his desire and
Scully was quickly following. They had decisions to make about this leg of
their journey. The inevitable conclusion to this new-found closeness was
becoming painfully apparent to both agents.
"Since you treated for dinner, allow me to make a pot of coffee and
share my mother's brownies."
"Let's go."
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Scully's apartment was always an assault on Mulder's senses. The smell
of her, the colors that surrounded her here, the sight of her most personal
belongings each in its place defined so much of who Scully is - but not all
of her. A huge part of Scully was defined in Mulder, and his contradicting
ways, and that frightened him. Scully knew him so well, but would he ever
know her nearly as well?
"Coffee's brewing. Mulder? You okay?"
She ran her hand up his back and smoothed it back down again. A definite
chill ran through him and Scully felt it reverberate through her as well.
"C'mon, Mulder, sit down with me."
"I'm fine, Scully."
"Isn't that my line, Mulder," she said with a big, warm smile spread
across her face. She led him to the sofa.
"Kiss me, Scully."
His words were barely a whisper. Though stated, they were more
questioning than any words he'd ever spoken to her. His eyes dropped to his
hands, but she couldn't look away from his face. He was taking a huge leap
here, and he was so afraid. Scully knew she'd never let him fall. She didn't
want him to fall.
Taking his face into her hands, Scully raised her lips to his and softly
brushed across them. His sharp intake of breath encouraged Scully to
continue. With a firmer and more deliberate motion, Scully traced the lines
of his mouth with the tip of her tongue and drew his lower lip into her
mouth. Releasing his lip, her hands slid into his hair and held him steady
while she kissed his jawline and cheekbones, his brow and his ears.
Not saying a word, Scully pulled back and looked at Mulder for any
response at all. Now she was the one who was afraid. Had she been too bold?
What was he thinking? Did he really expect her to comply to his request?
"How about that cup of coffee, Scully," Mulder said with a twinkle in
his eye and a smile playing across his mouth.
Shaking her head, Scully murmered, "Mulder, Mulder, Mulder..." and
crossed the living room to the kitchen.
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They had settled onto the sofa and watched "THEM", one of Mulder's
favorites about giant ants. They laughed and joked through the movie about
various insect encounters they had experienced. All the while, their bodies
seemed to seek the most possible contact. By the end of the movie, Mulder was
reclining on his back and Scully had stretched down the length of him. Her
head rested on his shoulder and her hand gently stroked his chest over the
sweater he wore.
"Scully?"
"Mmmmmmm?"
"Why did you kiss me like that earlier?"
"You asked me to, Mulder. Taking it back now?"
"Never. Wanna try it again?"
"Nope."
She felt him stiffen underneath her, so she quickly added, "This time
you're going to kiss me," to end his suffering.
He turned himself so that they were side by side, facing each other.
Mulder kissed Scully slowly and tentatively at first but quickly building the
intensity. Before long, the two were lost in their passion. Scully pulled
back and looked into Mulder's eyes.
"I know this is the wrong time for this, but do you think *she* does
this? Do you think she lures men into their own fantasies of comfort,
passion, love..."
"Is that where you are, Agent Scully? In my fantasy of comfort and
love?"
"Oh, Mulder...that's not what I meant. I'm in *my* fantasy...my fantasy
of you."
Their lips found each other again and the fire was far from being
extinguished. Mulder swung his legs off the sofa and scooped Scully up into
his arms heading for her bedroom.
"Are you sure about this, Mulder? I am, but I want us both to be sure -
really sure."
"Yes, Scully. Yes."
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Hours later, wrapped in the warmth of each other, Scully sat up with a
start causing Mulder to jump as well.
"What is it, Scully? Are you OK? What's wrong?"
"Oh my God, Mulder! I got it!"
"What do have? Scully? Tell me what's wrong?"
The anxiety on his face, coupled with his nakedness, made Scully burst
into hysterical laughter. At this point Mulder didn't know if he should
laugh along, or cry. She was weirding out and he was totally clueless.
"Please, Scully? Tell me what this is about. I'm not sharing your moment
at all."
"Oh, Mulder...I'm sorry...," she managed to utter between gasps for air.
"I was lying here thinking about us, about this..."
"And you found it hysterical?"
"No, Mulder. I found it amazing, beautiful, passionate, sexy,
fulfilling, and about a hundred other things."
"Then what's so funny?"
"I think I've figured out our serial killer's motive. While you dozed
off, I used that opportunity to, um, study...you. I was watching you sleep
and memorizing the soft lines and curves of you. I guess my eyes wondered
down...you know, *down*..."
"Got it. By the way, you look really cute when you blush," he grinned.
"Anyway, I noticed -again- how *fortunate* you are in the endowment area
and it hit me."
"*It* hit you?"
"The motive, Mulder. The motive, or at least a part of the motive."
"Please, go on...."
"Well, you are so...lucky. But the men that were killed...they were
very...not lucky."
"Why is it that you can always wow me with your brilliant, scientific,
detailed monologues?"
"Mulder, the men that were murdered, all five, of them...during the
autopsies, I made a mental note of a common trait. Do SMALL POTATOES mean
anything to you?"
THE END...It's silly and goofy...and was written in 15 minutes!