"Scully, I think you may have some un-aired hostility to deal with," he muttered through teeth clenched in a grimace. The red-head ignored him and continued to weave through traffic with the pedal pressed to the floor. Finally noticing her partner's distress Scully let up a bit on the gas , although she continued to pass anything moving slower than 84 mph. To take his mind off the world outside which moved oh so quickly past, Mulder began to yammer about a book he'd read on volcanoes.
By the time they reached a hotel the Bureau expense account allowed them, Scully was feeling more exhilarated than she had in years. Her partner, on the other hand, was exhausted. After four hours as Scully's passenger, he was ecstatic to see the world stop whizzing past and to hear no more angry car horns. He wondered, as he stood in the shower, if Agent Dana Scully was suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome. Of course, after their ride down the interstate today, maybe Mulder was the one with PTSS.
She stared at them in mild astonishment, then proceeded to strip off her blouse. She bounced on the balls of her feet, enjoying the freedom of her state of undress.
"Scully!" Mulder hollered through the door. Scully jumped, only barely remembering to wrap up in her bathrobe before opening the door.
"What is it Mulder?" She was strangely pleased to see him.
"Are you alright? I heard some noises." His hair was still wet from a shower.
"Yeah...fine," Scully met his hazel gaze for a moment.
"Really? Are you? " Mulder watched her face intently through the three inch opening in the doorway. Scully glanced at the doorknob, pushed her hair behind her ears and pulled the door open a few more inches signifying her permission. A line from a Paula Cole song drifted through Mulder's head: "But now my anger is my best friend, be careful I may bite your head off." Scully sat cross legged on the edge of the bed and proceeded to pick lint balls off the coverlet. Through the corner of her eye she saw Mulder settle his lanky frame into the only chair in the room. The silence stretched out for thirty seconds that lasted a week.
"I think you need more time to recover," Mulder started off limping.
" I told you-"
"You don't need to lose any more time, I understand. But today, in the car. You're not yourself." Scully offered her partner a condescending smile.
"Oh no, I'm more myself than ever." Scully looked at Mulder, long and hard. "You don't really expect things to be exactly the same do you?" Mulder's face took on that sad, heartbreaking look that could make even his partner feel for him. "I'm sorry. Things have changed. A lot. I spent 2 days in the trunk of a car, and there are three months of my life that I can't remember. I feel more alive now....than...than..." Her voice trailed off weakly. When their eyes met again, Mulder's contained a look of understanding.
"Would you mind if I drove from now on?"
"Xena? Are you sure you know where you're going?" the bard was favored with a look of pure irritation for that remark. Xena pushed a branch down and ushered Gabrielle past her. The skeptic bard stepped into a small mossy clearing. She spotted a tiny pool in the approximate center of the clear patch. The puddle (well, that's what it was) was kept fresh and cool by a minuscule spring, accumulating a few bare inches before it was absorbed by the surrounding soil.
Xena stood at its edge, peering down at her reflection. Gabrielle stepped up beside the warrior carrying their flagging water skin. Their reflections gazed into each other's eyes, Xena's placed a possessive arm around the bard. Sleepy hazel eyes met electric blue, the spell was broken. The pair grinned stupidly at each other and went about the business of replenishing their water supply.
Gabrielle stood up, brushed the mud off her knees, and was abruptly grabbed from behind. Xena wrapped her arms around the bards bare waist. Gabrielle twisted in her grasp and their lips met for a quick kiss that soon escalated to-
*Bleep* *Bleep*
"Tell me again how this is saving someone money?" Mulder demanded on the way into the flight terminal. Scully didn't bother to reply. How driving 6 hours to avoid using the DC international airport to catch a six am flight to Washington state was beyond her. They suffered the usual hassle that carrying firearms onto an airplane involved with a minimum of arguing.
When at last they were allowed to go to their seats, Mulder , for once, did the gentlemanly thing and gave Scully the window seat. She knew she should study the case file that had been so painstakingly assembled, but couldn't concentrate on anything but the view. Eventually though, even that palled and Scully managed to read through most of the information.
"Xena, I need these people!" Gabrielle protested "These men will DIE without food and water!"
"It won't matter if we can't defend the compound." Xena grasped the bard's shoulder in a parody of a comforting gesture. The warrior stalked out, leaving her bard to decide who lived, and who died.
The head of the cornered Athenian Army was more than happy to hand control over to the infamous Warrior Princess. She spent a few hours planning and making sure the men knew that SHE was very firmly in power. She prepared a simple ruse, a light attack out the front gate of their stronghold to draw their strange enemy, the Horde, into the heart of their defenses. Once inside, not one of the foreigners with their strange tongue and even stranger weaponry survived. Xena made sure of that. She slit a man's throat with his own weapon. Caught up in the fire of the battle, she killed an escaping man with that same blade. Despite the great personal satisfaction she felt, she knew that the toll they'd managed to take was merely a drop in the bucket of the Horde forces.
Through the crowd of cheering Athenian soldiers, Xena caught a glimpse of Gabrielle's horror-struck face. Not even seeing that look on the face of her beloved could turn the warrior from her chosen course of action. She would get them out of this alive, if it cost her her chance at salvation. Xena could harness the lust and fury of the old days, and maybe get Gabrielle out; whole and well, that the bard remained so was her top priority. Her own soul came second.
Safe back in her own home, Scully searched the web for information about sports cars, cars in general, and the internal combustion engine. She came to the conclusion that what she wanted was a Corvette Sting Ray in wine red. Of course, black would do just as well. Scully yawned hugely and glanced at the clock. It was already near midnight, and she had to work in the morning.
The full sized bed somehow seemed too big, too empty to be slept in. When she tried Scully found she couldn't get comfortable. The mattress was too soft. Grumbling under her breath at 1:30 a.m. Scully gathered up the coverlet and camped out on the hard-wood floor where she slept soundly the rest of the night.
The warrior tossed her black hair roughly and sheathed the weapon. The sudden applause from behind her served more to delight than startle.
"You're up early." Xena stated without turning around.
"Couldn't sleep once you left. I was cold," Gabrielle smiled as the warrior turned to face her, one dark eyebrow arched. It was hot enough to make even the warrior princess uncomfortable.
"Drill. I'll watch you." indicating the bard's quarter-staff, Xena leaned patiently against a tree trunk. Gabrielle took up her staff and went smoothly through the movements that Ephiny and Xena had so patiently taught her. Wiping the sweat from her face, Gabrielle looked to her lover for some sign of approval. Xena nodded appreciatively then turned to tend to Argo.
The target range was surprisingly empty. Mulder was already standing in his usual alcove, his glock gripped in both hands like they taught at the Academy. Scully stood watching him, her eyes critically reviewing his use of the gun, and its effectiveness. His face mirrored the slight disappointment in hers when he failed to exactly center his shots. A look of pure malicious joy crossed the red head's face. Mulder noticed her presence at last as she stepped into the alcove next to his.
Scully pulled her gun from its holster. She ran a finger lovingly down its stock in a proprietary, almost sexual manner that was, fortunately, not seen by her partner. She fired five times, one shot directly to the center of the head, one to the heart, one to each shoulder and for good measure, a second to the head of her paper target. Though Mulder was impressed, a trainload of aliens bearing smallpox vaccinations couldn't have dragged such an admission from him.