Cliche series: Airplane

From: "M&R Hartmann" <coolbeansh@email.msn.com>
Date: Tue, 6 Jul 1999 1018 -0700
Subject: Cliche series: Airplane (1/1) by ROzH MSR

TITLE: (1/1)
AUTHOR: ROz H
EMAIL ADDRESS: [email]coolbeansh@email.msn.com[/email]
DISTRIBUTION STATEMENT: You honor me?just tell me where.
SPOILER WARNING: nothing major
RATING: In the Bible belt, this is punishable by death.
CLASSIFICATION: MSR/UST
SUMMARY: Mulder and Scully kill some time on a plane ride.
AUTHOR NOTES: I just recently started submitting MSR stories, but I've been
reading them for a couple of months now. One thing I noticed is that
everyone writes at least one: EP story, phone sex story, restaurant story,
damn bee story, and one close quarters story, whether its in an elevator, a
box of some sort, or an airplane. Here's my airplane story. (a moment
passes) Ok, I decided this is going to be part of a series called 'The
cliche series' ridiculously dedicated to all the cliches mentioned about.
'Airplane' looks to have two parts to it so enjoy.
DISCLAIMER: If Chris Carter sued me, you think he'd give me his autograph?

She was walking away from him; actually stomping was more appropriate a
word. The angry bob of her hair matched the quickness of her pace as she
rounded the car and tried the door handle. Her left hand slipped off
painfully and her anger flared as she realized she just broke another
fingernail. "Mulder!"

He was walking slowly in the wake of her tracks. He smiled up at her with
his eyes squinted at sun behind her. It was casually making its way down
and it lit her hair like fire. "Yes, Scully."

"I'm leaving Mulder. There is nothing here but a big pile of crap."

"Actually Scully, there's nobody here but us chickens." They were, in
fact, in a large field surrounded by chickens. The armies of brown and
white chickens were streaming out of a large worn looking building, the door
of which was wide-open courtesy of Special Agent Fox Mulder. "But you know
what Scully, I don't think there's an X File here."

"You think, Mulder?" She was not happy. "Why?why am I on a small farm in
Nebraska surrounded by chickens, Mulder?"

"Well, no reason now. The report seemed credible."

She raised her hand and stopped him. "I don't want to talk about it
Mulder, just give me the keys. Its hot, I'm sweaty and I want to go home."
She pointed at him quickly, "I don't even want to hear what I know you're
thinking Mulder."

He smiled at her sheepishly and tossed her keys. "I was just wondering if
you wanted me to move the seat up for you, that's all."

X*X*X*X*X*X*

Mulder sat with a sullen look on his face as he settled in his seat.
Scully sat quietly to his right typing at her notepad laptop. He looked at
her and she pointed her left index finger at him, silencing him. She hadn't
said a word to him since the chicken incident several hours earlier. He
shuffled to face her in his seat and again the hand came up. Restless he
turned back and faced the front of the airplane.

"She is so hating you right now."

He turned to his left and looked at his neighbor. They had boarded the 737
back to D.C. and currently leveling off about a half-hour into their flight.
It would be several more hours till they land. Mulder had noted the various
empty seats surrounding them and had hoped he'd be alone with Scully until
the female neighbor had sat down. She had murmured a hello and then opened
a book. She was not much taller than Scully, dark hair with brown skin.
She gave him a knowing smile and blinked. "I'm sorry?" he said.

She leaned in close and whispered, "She hates you."

Mulder nodded. "Yeah, I caught that."

"I'm sorry. Listen, as soon as they turn off that seatbelt sign I'll move.
Its not like it's a full flight or anything."

He smiled. "Thanks."

"But I'm telling you, she hates you."

Mulder started to respond when he heard Scully's voice, "She's right, I
do." And that was it. Mulder blushed and then held out his hand to the
other woman and they shook. "I'm Mulder and apparently we'll be talking for
a few minutes since she does in fact hate me."

His neighbor laughed. "Right, I'm Catherine." She leaned her chair back
and closed her book. "What did you do?"

"Well you see, it's all about chickens."

X*X*X*X*X*

Catherine was laughing so hard she snorted, making her laugh even harder.
She half leaned into the aisle, trying to catch her breath. "Whew. Mulder.
You're an idiot." Mulder heard Scully chuckle. His eyes narrowed as he
turned to look at his partner and then he turned back to Catherine. The
seatbelt light was turned off and the chipper voice of their flight
attendant Bruce came on. "Well Mulder, I'm going to procure some serious
liquor from our wholesome attendant Bruce, so I'll leave you two alone.
Good luck." She reached out again and shook his hand.

Mulder watched her get and move towards the back accosting the
aforementioned attendant. Mulder turned back and looked straight ahead
again. "She was nice."

Nothing.

Ok, she still wasn't speaking to him so he closed his eyes and listened to
the humming of the jets. The attendant came around and offered drinks and
peanuts. He turned down the soda but took the peanuts, but only succeeded
in tearing the bag in half, getting roasted peanuts all over him and the
seat next to him. With a defeated shrug he closed his eyes again. He heard
a beep and listened to Scully closing the laptop and sigh indifferently.
Mulder opened an eye and looked at her. "Hi."

Scully looked at him with piercing blue eyes. "Humph" was her response.

He turned towards her and smiled. "I'm sorry."

"Sure. Fine. Whatever."

He chuckled softly and nudged her with his shoulder. "Come on, you know I
don't think you're too short."

"Don't even try and save yourself from that, Mulder."

He nodded. "I am sorry about dragging you out there."

"No, Mulder," she seemed to have lost her thought. "I just don't understand
exactly why we jump at these cases."

"It sounded like an X File." He had leaned closer to her, whispering
despite their bleak and quiet surroundings.

"I know, but lately your better judgement has, well left the building so to
speak."

He gave her expected Elvis sneer, which made her laugh despite the
ridiculousness of it. She looked out the window and watched the setting sun
disappear behind clouds as the plane rose above them. It always amazed her
how different the night sky was beneath the clouds and above them. Scully
looked back at Mulder. He was openly staring at her, his now hazel eyes
soft and luminescent.

"What?" She asked, their faces inches apart.

"You know you're the only one I trust." He felt her tense but he continued.
"Despite what you think, Scully you mean," he paused looking down at her
hands. She was fidgeting with the broken nail she received from the car out
in the field. "Your trust means everything to me, as well as your painfully
unbending scientific mind."

She looked at him for a long moment and sighed, decided not to answer.
Instead she looked at his lips and then down at her hand. Two broken nails.
She gave him a solemn smile and raised her damaged nail to her mouth. "Wish
I had a nail file."

That wasn't the response he was expecting, but it didn't surprise him.
Intimate moments between them had become few and far between so he cherished
whatever he could get. He watched her chew on her normally manicured nail.
"That's a bad habit."

She stopped mid chew, "Compare to some of your bad habits, this is nothing,
Mulder."

His mouth dropped, "What bad habits?"

She couldn't believe it, he was actually astonished. "Oh you're the pillar
refined behavior."

"I don't chew my nails."

"No, but you chew sunflower seeds and pencils and I don't know how many pens
I've lost to you."

"Be lucky that's the only thing you've lost to me, Scully." He waggled his
eyebrows.

She rolled her eyes, "Right Casanova, keep dreaming." She giggled
halfheartedly around her now massacred middle fingernail. She flicked the
offensive nail at him once and then resumed her gaze out the small window,
unconsciously using her thumbnail to pick at the middle nail.

"Stop that." He grabbed at her hand.

She looked back at him. Scully became curiously annoyed at his disposition.
"Mulder, leave my hand alone."

He held her hand still with his two large ones. The softness of her hands
sent a rush through him. "You're ruining a perfectly good nail."

She gave him an arched eyebrow, "Why are we having this conversation,
Mulder?"

"You compulsive behavior is bothering me."

She laughed openly and hard at that one. "Don't even start with compulsive
behavior." She tried to take her hand back, but he wouldn't budge.
"Mulder, if you don't have a nail file then I'm ignoring you and taking a
nap. This is going to be a long flight and eventually you'll grow bored
holding my hand so don't wake me up when it happens." She laid her head
back and closed her eyes.

He watched the annoyed lines smooth out of her face as he sat there with her
hand in his. Anyone passing by would make the obvious mistakes about them
and this thought was not lost on him. In fact it hurt him because it was so
far from the truth. He looked down at her hand. He had until then just
held her hand, but seeing the smooth white skin of Dana Scully in his tanned
hands moved him. He started to caress the top of her hand with his right
thumb. Mulder saw her eyes fly open, but he continued to look down at her
hand.

"What are you doing, Mulder?" He sighed softly. Scully could see him
thinking deeply and knew what was on his mind. "Mulder, I know you say you
trust only me, I just hope that you really mean that."

He looked up at her then. His eyes had a softness to them that warmed her.
It was the same look he gave her in his apartment hallway last summer. She
always thought about that moment and was never able to decide whether it was
hopelessness or hopefulness. Mulder leaned in close and whispered in her
ear, "You should know, Scully, not hope." Then he kissed her ear, sending
tingles down her neck. The effect was equal to a four-alarm fire. He saw
the startled look on her and nudged her. He gave her a reassuring smile and
continued to gently stroke her hand.

She didn't look at him for a moment but down at her hand. His fingers
traveled along the length of her hand, caressing the fingertips and finally
picking at her broken middle fingernail. She smiled and closed her eyes.
"Stop picking at that."

He chuckled and said ever so softly that she wasn't quite sure if he had
spoken, "Alright." Then he raised her hand close to his face. Scully half
expected to feel the stubble of his chin so when she felt the moistness of
his mouth it came at quite a surprise.


End of Part One.