Title: Champagne High (1/1) Author: Samantha L. Caldwell Category: SR Keywords: Fluffy-wuffy-shipper-fluff, MSR, drunkfic...? No angst *whatsoever*, unless you count tickle-torture. Spoilers: nadda. Set anywhere in the XF universe you want. Probably pre-season 8, though. Summary: "He was enchanted by this woman, this beautiful siren who looked up at him through long eyelashes, smiled in that twinkling way, lifted her arms to the heavens and laughed like she was crazy." Disclaimer: Their biological father was abusive, so I'm adopting them. Feedback: would be worshiped (and always replied to). This is my *very first* non-PG fic, so a little encouragement would be very appreciated! Send any comments to: sister_spooky@hotmail.com Archive: Sure, wherever, just please keep my name and e-mail, and it'd be nice if you'd let me know. Author's Notes: I was watching HAD the other day and the end scene where Scully's so happy and giggly and flirty really got to me. That aspect of Scully's character is so charming, and yet, so underused. I decided to write an entire fic dedicated to Happy!FunLoving!Smiling!andCarefree!Scully. So... we've got a water fight, some dancing, Dean Martin, palm reading, skinny dipping...and a little smut thrown in for good measure. The lyrics used at the beginning are from Our Lady Peace's 'Somewhere Out There' which I listened to relentlessly while writing this. The title; 'Champagne High' is from a Sister Hazel song of the same name. A million thanks go to Brandi for fabulous beta services. ~*~ Laid underneath the stars, strung out and feeling brave. Watch the red-orange glow, watch them float away. ~*~ ~ Champagne High ~ She watched the moon for hours that night. It was perched plump and full in the inky atrium of sky, a fat king on his throne, surrounded by a court of diamond stars. It was hypnotizing in it's royal brilliance, and she had willingly fallen into the offered trance. The bedroom window was open, gauzy curtains fluttering in the sweet wind drifting in from the South. The breeze swept over her slight form- naked and draped over the bedspread. It slipped over her parted lips to offer a fleeting taste of spicy honey and twilight sky. A tender breath of current slid a lock of her hair across the pillow, and she turned her face into the wind, delighting in its soft caress. Something new was riding on the breeze that night, something fresh and crisp and exhilarating. It made her feel like a child, lighthearted and mischievous, made her want to run naked in the rain with her arms spread open, jumping in puddles and breathing summer. But she wasn't a child. And it wasn't raining. So in reprisal after reaching for the bottle on her bedside table and taking a few gulps of bubbly bitterness, she slipped off of the bed and out of the moon-spell. It was a balmy night, so a loose-fitting, gossamer blouse was pulled over her lightly freckled shoulders, sleeves pushed up above her elbows carelessly. A pair of blue panties were pulled on as an afterthought before she slipped delicate feet into the thong sandals she'd brought for the motel pool. The plastic shoes made sloppy, squeaking noises on the ground as she made her way down the walkway along the side of the strip motel. She scowled at them halfheartedly, wanting to be quiet. She felt blithe and impulsive and brave for the first time in so long, and the funny gulping noises from her sandals were kind of spoiling the mood. When she arrived at the right door, she didn't bother knocking. She used the key she had in case of an emergency and pushed it open. Thankfully, the room was carpeted so her sandals were silent as she padded across the length of floor to the bed. He was sleeping, and for that, she was glad. She always relished the chance to wake him up, to watch awareness and sharp intelligence seep into his murky, glittering eyes, to see him smile at her sleepily, to hear the groggy grunt that signaled his awakening. Only a thin sheet bunched around the waist covered his lean, beautiful form. She took a moment to appreciate the smooth, golden expanse of his chest before stepping up to the bed, then crouched down at the side closest to where he slept. His face was turned towards her, dark lashes resting against tanned cheeks, lips parted slightly. She reached up and gently traced the line of his jaw with the back of one finger. His eyes fluttered open instantly at her touch. The corners of his lips pulled into a smile when he focused on her face. Then it faded. "Scully?" His voice was raspy from sleep. "Are you okay? What's wrong?" "Nothing," she spoke softly, smiling. "Nothing's wrong. Get up." She stood as he pulled himself into a sitting position in the bed. His eyes widened as he noticed her attire. "What- ah... Scuh... Jesus. Where are your pants?" She shrugged. "In my room. It's hot. C'mon..." She offered him one small, manicured hand. He took it, noting the wild gleam in her eyes, the smirk dancing upon her lips, the flush of her face. "Scully... are you drunk?" he huffed, unsure whether to be amused or worried. She shook her head, tousled fire-hair swinging gently around her chin as she tugged on his hand and pulled him out of the bed. She was slightly disappointed and partially relieved to find he was wearing his boxers, wondering what she would have done had he been completely naked. He managed to pull on his jeans, still staring at her bewildered, before she shoved his shoes into his hands and dragged him out the door. The sharp pebbles littered over the parking lot bit into the soles of his bare feet when they got outside, so he stopped her and bent to slip his shoes on. "Hurry Mulder. It'll only be out for so long," she urged, taking his hand again, leading him down and around the side of the motel. It was exactly like every other strip motel they'd stayed in, on every other night that was exactly nothing like this one. "What's only out for so long?" He asked. "The moon," she said as if he were a fool. He looked up at the sky. It was bigger than usual, he concluded, bigger and brighter. It was so luminous, in fact, that the darkness surrounding them seemed watery and diluted. He could see her clearly, even in this dead of night, could study each freckle on her face and the wondrous sheer quality of her loose blouse. Behind the motel a line of trees grew in an untidy but characteristic forest- a tumble of shrubbery entwined in itself and hiding a collection of trails leading back into the Nevada landscape. "Where are we going?" he had the instinct to ask as they neared the grove of poplar and pine. "There's a little lake over behind these trees. I saw it from my window." She turned to throw an inspired grin over her shoulder, never slowing her pace. "We're going to a lake," he reiterated with a small, confused chuckle. "Yes." "At three in the morning?" "Mm hmm. We're done with the case, Mulder. We don't have to get up early tomorrow." "We still have a flight to catch at nine." She laughed, and he almost started at the tinkling, foreign sound. "We'll be fine. Don't worry so much- you'll start to sound like me." He was unable to hide the grin making its way onto his face. "What's gotten into you?" "Just go with it, Mulder." She slowed down a fraction as they reached the forest line, so that instead of dragging him unwilling into a grove of trees he was walking beside her. She swung their arms a bit, humming softly under her breath. He tried a different approach, hoping desperately she wouldn't be offended and decide to slug him . "How much have you had to drink tonight?" She laughed again, squeezing his hand affectionately. "I'm not drunk." Not drunk, perhaps, but certainly inebriated. He'd never seen her quite like this before, all giggles and twinkles, flushed and impassioned. "Sure, right. It's the full moon making you act... like this." She dipped her chin in a kind of half-nod, then looked up at the sky, partially hidden by tree branches. "It's a beautiful night. I don't want to waste it sitting in a stuffy motel room." And it *was* a beautiful night, the air warm, the breeze fresh, the sky clear. Her passion was contagious. He smiled. Here was the time where he would normally crack jokes and sling innuendo into the conversation with practiced ease. But he was so taken aback by this shift in her personality, by this new woman leading him by the hand into the night that he was nearly silent. And he couldn't stop staring. He was transfixed by the ethereal way her shirt billowed around her small, slender form, the way he could see the pale blue of her underwear and the dusky shade of her nipples right through the thin fabric. He was enthralled with the titian glow of her hair, the way it fell loosely around her face in relaxed waves and brushed her slim shoulders gently. He was mesmerized with the bright, glittering quality of her wide, glowing eyes and the sweet, tickled smirk playing over her pink-touched lips. He was fascinated by the sight of her bare legs, the smooth expanse of peaches-and-cream skin over the shapely muscles of her thighs and calves that narrowed to form delicate ankles and tiny feet in floppy sandals. She had always allured him, but tonight... tonight, he was enchanted. ~*~*~*~*~ There was something purely decadent about romping around outside in the middle of the night. While everyone else was quietly sleeping in their beds, they were traipsing through an unfamiliar forest under an open, vigilant sky. It was exhilarating and liberating and made them feel like children, sneaking out at midnight to go cow tipping. They ducked under hanging branches and crawled over fallen trees, following a tentative, overgrown path through the brush until Mulder began to wonder if Scully had any real idea of where they were going. Before he could give voice to his concerns, she stopped and pointed through the trees. "Over there, see?" She looked up at him, alight with excitement and accomplishment. Sure enough, he could see something shimmering in the distance- water reflecting moonlight. And then she was leading him again, tugging him towards the water as fast as her floppy foam sandals would let her. It was a charming little lake, small and sparkling with a smooth, ebony surface. A natural beach spread for a few yards along the shoreline nearest them, sand of tiny multicolored stones giving way to quiet, shallow water. She immediately shucked off her sandals and dipped one foot into the lake. It was cool and slippery against her warm toes, and she shivered at the delicious sensation. "Is it cold?" He asked, stepping up beside her on the pebbly beach. She shook her head, letting her whole foot slip into the water, testing the bottom, then bringing the other foot in so that she was standing in water ankle-deep. "No. Just nice." She walked a few feet out, spreading her toes wide under the dark water to appreciate the coolness gliding over her skin. The slippery-smooth stones of the lake bottom traced her soles as she inched away from the shore. She could feel Mulder's curious gaze, hot and tickling against her back. She turned around suddenly, intent on convincing him to kick off his shoes and join her, but lost her footing on the slick lake bottom. She fell, less than gracefully, into the water with a great splash, legs flying out from under her, arms flailing. When she opened her eyes, laughing and sputtering and absolutely soaked, he was standing over her, half concerned and half amused. The water was up to his knees, soaking the bottom of his jeans. "Are you okay?" He held out his hand to help her up. "I'm fine," she laughed and pushed a lock of wet hair from her face, feeling wonderfully ridiculous. She took his offered hand, but instead of pulling herself up, she shifted her weight and pulled him down. He fell with a yelp, landing beside her in the chilly water. "Aaagh!" The startled retort echoed over the lake, along with the sound of her muffled laughter. He shook the water out of his hair and turned to his mischievous partner. "You." His lips were pursed in mock irritation, but she could clearly see the mirth dancing in his green-gilded gaze. "What? You looked a little warm." She smirked and shrugged innocently. He smiled slyly. "So do you." Suddenly a wall of water was coming towards her. It hit with a cold, wet splash, and then she was, somehow, wetter than before. Of course, retaliation was in order. She splashed him back, hurling lake water towards him until he was chuckling and sputtering and begging for mercy. She stopped, smiling victoriously until he stood, picked her up, and tossed her into the deeper water like a sack of potatoes. She surfaced, panting for breath. It still wasn't very deep, and she could stand easily with the water reaching just under her breasts. Mulder was standing only a few feet away, grinning evilly. The moon hovered just over his head in the dark sky, it's congregation of tiny stars twinkling away, laughing at them. Laughing with them. "C'mere," she called to him, holding out her hand. "No way," he laughed. "You're gonna get me." "I won't," she shook her head. "Promise?" "Promise." He relented, and made his way towards her, still wary. "What is it?" She held out her hand again, and he took it cautiously, preparing for another onslaught of Scully-waves. He was pleasantly surprised when she pulled him closer. "Dance with me." He smiled, though slightly taken aback. "Out here?" She nodded, and still holding onto his hand, slung her other arm loosely around his bare back. They stood very close together, chests not quite touching, warm breath mingling in the space between. He reached out slowly, letting his hand trail over her silky, wet hair and down the sodden fabric of her blouse before resting against the small of her back, hidden just under the water. "Have you ever danced under the stars, Mulder?" Her voice was soft and low, her touch sweet. He shook his head, leaning in close. "I don't believe I ever have." "Me neither." She looked up at him, eyes wide with sparkling blue sincerity. He felt his chest constrict, gazing down at her lovely face as moonlight bathed the planes of her skin in a luminous ivory that dipped into sweet shadows where the light didn't reach. They began to move then, softly swaying from side to side against the gentle slide of the water. The tingling warmth gathering every place their skin touched was a striking, buoying contrast to the coolness of the lake water. She lowered her head to his chest and let out a breathy kind of hum- more of a sigh than a song. "What are we dancing to, Scully?" he asked after a moment. "Hmm?" She lifted her head to look at him. "Music. We need music." She smiled and began to hum the first song that popped into her head. "'Take Me Out To The Ball Game', Scully?" He laughed. "Not quite what you were looking for?" "Well, it's a step up from 'Jeremiah Was A Bullfrog', I guess. How about this..." He cleared his throat dramatically. "Whheeen.... theeee... moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie that's amoreeeee..." She burst out laughing and then groaned. "Mulder, that's worse." He wasn't deterred. "Whheeen.... theeee.... stars seem to shine like you've had *too much wine*..." he looked at her pointedly, grinning. "...that's amoreeeee..." They danced while he sang, swaying and dipping playfully in the waist-high water while moonlight graciously bathed them in it's incandescent glow. Somehow, they'd ended up closer together, pressed up against each other for balance and warmth. Her thin blouse was wet and heavy with water, the sodden fabric cool against his bare chest. She could feel his hardness against her stomach, and she half- hoped he didn't realize that she could, half-hoped he didn't realize that it made her heart pound against her ribcage. When he finished his song they slowed their pace leisurely until they were hardly moving at all. They stood together, hyper- aware of the chilly water lapping against their heated skin and the heavy sound of their mixed breathing in the quiet night. She shivered suddenly, feeling a fleet of chills travel up her spine as goosebumps rose to the surface of her arms. "You're cold," he remarked when he felt the slight tremor, pulling away enough to look at her. She shrugged and smiled. Amazingly, he realized, he was starting to get used to those smiles. "I'm alright, Mulder." He nodded, but took her hand and began to head towards shore. "We just need to get out of the water for a minute, and you'll warm up." They made their way to shore slowly, letting their feet trail through the water, unwilling to give up the feeling that for once, everything was right. The night air was balmy and warm, and she felt herself growing less chilled as soon as they were out of the water, but she didn't stop him from pulling her into his arms when they reached the shoreline. "Better?" He asked, pulling away after a few moments. "Much. Thank you." She nodded and followed him as he sat down on the beach, settling herself beside him in the pebbly sand. What he saw when he shifted his gaze to watch her sit beside him made his breath catch in his throat and his wet jeans tighter than they already were. Her thin, sheer blouse was now crystal-clear, revealing every sweet curve and peak of her breast to his appreciative eyes. He felt his pulse jump to life, could hear it beating loudly inside of his head as he unsuccessfully tried to keep from gazing at the perfect pink-tipped globes accentuated by the thin, wet fabric clinging to them. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that he was staring discreetly at her chest. Looking down and realizing why, she felt the same thrill of excitement she had earlier in the night when she'd first coaxed Mulder from his room. She turned her body towards him and smiled, taking his hand so that he'd know that she wasn't angry. "The water really made this shirt transparent." "That it did," He chuckled low in his throat, searching her face for the blush he was so sure he would find there. But none appeared. She held his gaze intently. "It's making me kind of cold, and it's see-through anyway... maybe it should... just... come off." She almost laughed when his jaw hit the ground. Instead, she simply smiled and brought his hand to her mouth, where she lightly kissed his knuckles. "Scully..." he whispered hoarsely, unable to tear his gaze from that first little button on her blouse. "I... do you.....?" She nodded and kissed his hand again, then lowered it to rest just under her collarbone. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he brought his other hand up to join the first, and gently slipped the button through the hole. She was breathing so hard, her chest heaving so heavily, that she was afraid he wouldn't be able to get all the buttons undone. But he was doing a fine job. He went all the way down, undoing each little clasp until he finished the very last one. He looked up at her, face flushed, eyes questioning. She nodded again. He smiled, and for a moment, his face was the happiest she'd ever seen it. But the look of mirth was quickly replaced by one of arrant hunger as he grasped one side of the shirt and slowly peeled back the wet, clinging garment. The cool air on her wet skin was exquisite and she shivered yet again as the ivory skin of her breast was slowly exposed. She felt her nipples harden from both the cool air and his intense gaze. He repeated the same process with the other side, peeling back her blouse, just barely grazing her sensitive skin with his fingers as he did so. He pulled back for a moment, just to be able to finally take her in- flaming hair wet and dripping in tendrils around her pretty face, damp, smooth skin peppered with tiny water droplets. "Scully..." the whisper was soft, reverent. She reached out and threaded her fingers through his wild, damp hair, pulling him into her, pressing her lips against his softly, almost chastely, then pulling away. She felt his contented sigh against her lips, and quickly closed the gap between them once again. His mouth was soft and hard and warm and refreshing all at once. She sighed into it, loving the way his lips suckled her own, the way his tongue gently caressed every one of her teeth. When they had to end it, had to breathe, she laid back, panting, and he followed, kissing her neck, her ear, her clavicle. She responded in kind, pressing her lips to every plane of skin, every dimple, every freckle she could reach. Suddenly, he stopped and lifted his head to look at her. His face was serious. "Promise me," he implored softly, "that you'll remember this tomorrow." She grinned gently, leaning in to press her lips to the smooth line of his jaw. "Promise." He laughed then, the joyous sound cut off as he bent his head to take the tender skin of her breast into his mouth. He kissed her every curve, nuzzling the baby-soft skin, then nipping it gently with a scrape of his teeth. He repeated his ministrations until she was squirming, her delicate hands sailing over the planes of his back. "Mulder, God... your beautiful mouth... your beautiful... mouth..." He took this as a compliment and took one raised, rose-dusted nipple into his mouth. She yelped, the sweet sound soon followed by a low moan as he suckled her warmly. She could feel every nerve-ending in her body as he tugged her blue panties down over her thighs with one hand, every inch of her thrumming with delicious sensation. Her skin was alive under his thumb where it stroked the softness at the inside of her thigh. He was turning her blood into sweet champagne- bubbly, tingling, and inebriating. Sliding her hands down the front of his chest, she gently eased his mouth from her breast. He looked up at her, surprised. She smiled reassuringly, face flushed and eyes shining, as her hands followed the trail of soft, sparse hair down the center of his chest and found the waistband of his jeans. "Off," she said, and he nodded. Together, they managed to get the heavy, wet material of his pants and boxers from his legs. They were both kicked aside carelessly, and her blouse followed soon after. Finally skin-to-skin, he lowered himself onto her, keeping most of his weight on his forearms. They laid there for a still moment, foreheads touching, indulging in the sensual feeling of being so close. When she could wait no longer, she reached down between them and, pressing a quick kiss to his lips, guided him inside her. She felt him release a long, hot breath into her damp hair as he eased slowly into her warmth. She welcomed the waves of hot pleasure that washed over her as he began to move, letting the sensation flow through her body like lifeblood through her veins. She raised her hips to meet his with every thrust, cradling him within her body only to relinquish him again and again. As the sensation mounted, coiling deep in her belly, she pressed her face into his neck and clung to his back until it became too heavy, too intense to bear. She felt herself splintering, shimmering and twinkling like all the stars dancing above them on this beautiful, beautiful night. When she could think clearly again, could breathe and move normally again, she found that Mulder had collapsed half beside her and half on top of her. She could feel his breath, warm and steady against her neck. She felt sticky and slick with sweat and lake water, and yet, wonderfully replete. "Mulder," she whispered into his ear, reaching up to thread her fingers through his soft hair. "Mmmm..." came his muffled response into her neck. "I think I may have sand in some very strange places." His laughter rumbled against her. He lifted his head, lightly kissing her rosy cheekbone. "S'ok. I'll help you get it out." She giggled softly. "Always such a gentleman." ~*~*~*~*~ Later, when their hearts had stopped pounding and their breathing had calmed, they sat in the sand. He sat with his legs spread apart, and she sat between them, her back resting against his chest, his chin resting on the top of her head. She took one of his hands from where it had been resting on her knee and held it between her own, palm-up. She traced one prominent line, holding his hand up to the moonlight. "You have a good, strong heart... but you're ridiculously stubborn." "What?" he chuckled softly, dipping his nose into her drying hair. "See?" She held up his palm, tenderly retracing the prominent lines. "Says so right here." "Scully?" he exclaimed in amused surprise. "*You* know how to read palms?!" She smiled a tiny, magic smile, eyes full of glitter and spirit. "My grandmother was a gypsy." "You're kidding. An honest-to-goodness gypsy?" She nodded."My mother's mother- she was an amazing woman. Melissa was a lot like her, actually. Very free- spirited." He kissed the top of her head and brought his left hand to where the others rested in her lap, weaving their fingers together into a warm, drifting tapestry. "We used to do this, Missy and I- steal away in the dead of the night when there was a full moon. My family owned a small cottage in Canada. We'd go there in the summer when my father was home. When the moon was full, we wouldn't need lanterns or flashlights to see the way, so we'd slip out the window of the sleep-cabin while Charlie and Bill snored away. It was so much fun to be out by ourselves at night, you know? Big thrill for a nine-year old. We would go to the lake... and swim without our suits on and pretend we were mermaids... and make up songs and sing them softly so that no one would hear." She leaned her head back against his chest, looking far off into the distance, as if she could still hear their sweet, high voices echoing over the lake. "Sounds wonderful," he said softly, imagining the woman sprawled comfortably in his arms as a nine-year old child, naturally happy and carefree and skinny dipping with her older sister. "It was, Mulder. It still is." She turned, lifting her head and angling her chin to kiss him. He welcomed the gesture warmly, loving how soft her lips felt beneath his own, loving that he was finally allowed to touch her like this. When they parted, he dipped his nose into the skin of her neck- that tender place just under the jaw that felt so soft and warm that he wanted to curl up there and never leave. Her reaction to the touch was to squeal and jerk away with a frenetic giggle. He laughed. "Ticklish, aren't we?" He dipped his head down, again nuzzling the tender spot. She almost shot out of his arms, laughing desperately. "Mulderrrr, no, Mulder! You brat!" She howled, turning in his arms to stare him down, rendering her neck out of reach. He held up his hands in surrender, not wanting to chance her discovering *his* ticklish spots. Of course, she smirked and ignored his submission, going right for the armpits with her tiny, agile fingers. His uncontrollable laughter spurred her own, and through slitted eyes he watched her surrender to the mirth of the moment. And he was enthralled all over again, enchanted by this woman, this beautiful siren who looked up at him through long eyelashes, smiled in that twinkling way, lifted her arms to the heavens and laughed like she was crazy. "You know," he said when they were calm again, and staring sleepily up at the sky, "that the moon's light is only a reflection of the sun." She shook her head, smiling. "No. Not this moon. It has it's own light. I can feel it." He chuckled, savoring her whimsical words. "That's not very scientific Dr. Scully." She was quiet for a moment. When she spoke, her voice was soft. "Don't you ever just want to forget it all? To let yourself go and simply... be *alive*? To be happy for just a few hours..." He didn't answer for a long time. He sighed so softly she barely heard it, and ran his hands up and down her bare arms once. "But when those few hours are up... when you go back to the way it was...." he took a deep breath. She felt the tension in his hands. "...will you regret it in the morning?" Scully turned in his arms to look at his face and saw the trepidation etched there. She reached up with one hand, tracing the line of his jaw with the back of her finger as she had when she'd woken him up earlier in the night. Her answer was simple. "Only if I let myself." "...And will you?" She smiled a small, beatific smile. Then she leaned back against him, looked up towards the ripe moon and shook her head. ~*~*~*~*~ They entered her room, later, chuckling under their breath and trying not to wake the neighbors. At the beach they'd pulled on their still-wet clothes, recoiling at the musty-damp feel of them on their warm skin, and headed back to the motel to catch a few hours of sleep before they had to rise and catch their early flight. The sky outside was lightening, a few errant stars the only barrier to the approaching dawn. Both agents were beyond tired- giddy and clumsy in their pleasant exhaustion. Scully shrugged out of her blouse and collapsed onto the bed almost as soon as they'd gotten through the door. Mulder looked at the digital clock on the bedside and groaned. "We have to get up in *two hours*." "S'ok..." she mumbled, cracking open one eye to peer at him. "We can sleep on the plane." He nodded, looking at her lying there, then glancing towards the door. "Uh, is it... alright... if I stay in here?" His question sounded uncertain, almost shy. She opened both eyes then, her expression perfectly serious. "It had better be. In the morning I'll be holding you to your promise to help me get all that sand out. Of course, I could always ask the poolboy..." He chuckled, and she made room for him on the bed, scooting over. He sat beside her, pulling off his damp jeans and shucking them into the corner gratefully. Before lying down, he noticed the near-empty bottle sitting on her bedside. "Can I have a drink?" he asked, turning to her and motioning to the bottle with his hand. She nodded absently, and he reached out, bringing it to his lips and taking a big gulp. His face screwed up in surprise and distaste. "Yuck! Scully... what is this?" She looked from the bottle in his hand to his confused face, a tiny grin threatening at the corners of her mouth. "Club soda." "Club Soda?!" He almost dropped the bottle. "Yeah. I told you I wasn't drunk, Mulder." "Well... I know, but I thought... at least..." he shook his head in astonishment and put the bottle back on the bedside table. She laughed at the comical look on his face, the hearty sound surrounding him and filling him with gladness. With a low chuckle of his own he laid down beside her and pulled her against him, her back to his front. He buried his nose into her soft hair and breathed in, smelling shampoo and lake water and Scully. It astounded and delighted him that the woman he'd been with tonight was really all his own Scully, that every word she'd spoken, every whim she'd followed had been of her own volition and hadn't been induced in the smallest fraction by inebriation. He'd catalogued every one of her smiles that night, every note of her laughter, every one of her touches, saved them all in his iron-vault of a memory, terrified and certain that he'd never see her like that again. But now... perhaps there was hope. "Will I ever see this side of you again?" he whispered into her neck. She shrugged lightly and turned, gently pressing her lips to his bare shoulder. "Next full moon...?" He laughed softly. "Does this happen every time?" He felt her grin against his arm. "Maybe." Mulder was delighted- his very own Ware-Scully. "Gonna have to buy me some silver bullets, huh?" She sighed contentedly, feeling sleep tickle the fringes of her mind. "Hmmm... might be a good idea..." He felt her breathing change, then, felt her muscles relax completely as she let sleep swallow her down into moonlit dreams. As he reached down to pull the light sheet over her freckled shoulders, he was nearly overcome by a feeling of gratitude. He blinked slowly, fully realizing for the first time what a gift she had given him that night. She'd revealed to him the part of herself she naturally kept hidden, showed him a side of Dana Katherine Scully he'd only glimpsed in the best of times. She had shared with him the truest, sweetest, most vulnerable element of her character, and trusted him enough to keep that gift within himself until she was ready to share it again. He brushed her hair away and kissed her smooth, cool cheek in silent thanks, then glanced over the bed and out the window to offer his gratitude to the ever-enigmatic moon for whatever part it had played. The ripe, silvery sphere hung low in the sky, fading slowly with the first light of dawn, but still round and plump and proud. Mulder watched it's image melt away with each new ray of sunlight, until his eyelids became too heavy to hold open. His last thought before he succumbed to sleep was to bid the old king a swift return. The End. ~*~*~*~ Feedback is better than moonbeams at sister_spooky@hotmail.com ~SLC