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Sleeptalking 1/1
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12:31 AM

The only source of light in the motel room was coming from her trusty
laptop. The only sounds to keep her company was the steady pitter-patter
of rain on the roof, and Mulder's slow and deep breathing from her bed.

He had come into her room about an hour ago, playing an imaginary game of
basketball as he pretended to dribble his way to inside.

He headed straight for her TV, as though he didn't have a perfectly working
unit in his own room and picked up the remote before sitting down.

Scully didn't even raise her gaze from the computer. She knew him well
enough to know just what he was doing just by the shuffle of his feet, the
rasp of his clothes and her general knowledge of his mannerisms and habits.

She looked up momentarily to watch him channel surf. For her, it was a
little thing she liked to do, because Mulder's choice in programming said a
lot not only about him, but the mood he was in. Mulder with a remote was a
happy Mulder, not unlike little boys with their puppies. You could leave
them alone and check on them from time to time, but the responsibility to
look over them was greatly reduced.

Click. NYPD Blue. Click. The Mask. Click. Home TV shopping. Click.
Melrose Place. Vehement click. Rear Window. Volume raise. Mattress
squeaking. Pillow fluffing.

Scully turned back to her computer. Mulder was now occupied, and content
to lie down into her bed, his feet over the edge, an arm swung to the back
of his head bracing a pillow.

Their case had finished earlier than anticipated, but their flight back to
Washington had been postponed due to the foul weather. Both she and Mulder
had been relieved to an extent, their physical exertions having taken a
toll on them. They both surmised they hadn't done so much running,
jumping, sprinting, dodging and crouching in a very long time.

They'd had dinner at a nearby Italian restaurant (Mulder's treat surprise
surprise), where he had sort of embarrassed her by asking for a bite of her
spaghetti. She had pushed her plate forward, but Mulder had looked at her
and opened his mouth, fully expecting her to feed him a forkful using her
own fork.

She'd given in but raised her eyebrow first, deciding that a verbal retort
would just prolong dinner all the more, and she was anxious to get back to
her room to take a shower and get some sleep.

Scully swirled some pasta around her fork and fed him, Mulder leaning
across the table and took his mouthful just as a waiter had brought another
round of drinks.

The waiter whirled around, afraid he was interrupting a romantic dinner
much to Scully's dismay. <He's my PARTNER, dammit! We're just...CLOSE is
all.>

Mulder had nodded his head slowly, savoring the flavors in his mouth as he
settled back into his chair, oblivious as usual to the rest of the world.

They headed back to the motel right after that, the rain rendering almost
zero-visibility with its intensity.

Mulder had chivalrously shed his trench coat to shield Scully from the rain
as she opened her door, and waved off her concern when he didn't wear it
again as he ran to his own room.

Half and hour later, she was already waiting for Mulder Bored to come
knocking at her door, and come knocking he did, of course. After the
cursory "It's open, Mulder!" he settled himself down and left her to her work.

Scully rubbed her eyes as her laptop whirled, happily saving her file. She
sat back into the chair and checked on Mulder again, knowing almost for
certain he had fallen asleep. He'd been too quiet for too long for
anything else.

By now, he'd pushed himself up into her bed and was sleeping soundly. The
pillow that had been under his head was now in his arms, hugged tightly
against him. His breathing was deep and easy and his mouth slightly open.
She smiled in bemusement and decided to let him sleep a few more minutes,
just till after her shower, before rousing him to get back to his own room.

The room was getting colder now, and the rain was getting much harsher.
Scully turned the TV off, rubbing her arms to heat them up and switched on
a small light that wouldn't glare straight into Mulder's eyes and wake him
up.
She spotted a spare blanket in the cabinet and pulled it out, draping it over
him to fend off the chill he would surely feel, dressed only in his jogging
pants,
sport socks and a shirt. She bent over a little, trying to judge how damp
his
clothes were from his jog to her room in the rain, and decided he was dry
enough not to catch a cold.

<All this checking,> Scully thought. <It's like taking care of a little kid.>

Satisfied now with Mulder's comfort, she stepped into the shower and
scrubbed away all the grit that had accumulated during the day under a hot
spray of water. She knew that Mulder had finished with his own shower,
having smelled him when she spread the covers over him. He was devoid of
his cologne and sweat, and the aroma of soap hovered around him instead.

She toweled off and got into her pajamas, and walked back into her bedroom,
fully intending to wake Mulder up. All her plans went down the drain
however, at the site before her.

Mulder was in a semi-fetal position, holding up the corner of the blanket
to his cheek, his thumb subconsciously rubbing across the corner.

Never in five years had she seen him look so content and peaceful. Almost
child-like.
<Okay. Ten more minutes and I'm waking him up,> she decided.

She settled into the opposite side of the bed and picked up a magazine to
flip through while Mulder's sleeping extension passed by.

She heard a snuffle from him, and peered at him closer when his head cocked
to the side. "Mmppff," he muttered.

Scully thought he'd half-woken up. "What did you say, Mulder?" she asked.

"Huh?"

"I said, what did you say, Mulder."

"Why're you calling me Mulder?" he asked, his voice genuinely perplexed.
"My name's Fox."

Scully moved closer to him to get a better look, the dim light making it
difficult. His eyes were still closed, but his eyebrows were still
frowning at what she had called him.

<He's sleeptalking,> she realized. <This could be interesting.>

A flash of guilt hit her in the gut momentarily, but Scully pushed it down
and promised herself not to get carried away. Just as long as she didn't
invade his privacy, this was all harmless.

"How old are you, Fox?" she asked, a little nervous he might wake up and
discover she was playing mind hockey in his head.

"Nine. How old are you?"

"A little older than you."

Mulder settled into his pillow a little more. "Mom says I won't need a
babysitter anymore after a couple of years, and I'll be old enough to take
care of Samantha by myself."

Scully's heart ripped a little. "I'm sure you'd be a great babysitter,
Fox." Using his first name sounded so foreign to her own ears.

"Thanks," he smiled. "I'm sorry, what's you name again?" he asked politely.

Mulder must've been such a charming kid, she thought. At the very least,
before Samantha was taken. "Dana."

She watched him as he settled once again into the covers deeper, and his
thumb rubbed a little more frantically at the corner of the blanket. She
watched as his face contorted a little more in concentration.

"Where's Samantha?" he suddenly asked.

Scully thought fast. "Don't worry about her, Fox. She's taking a bath."

He seemed satisfied with her answer and relaxed.

Scully peered closer, wondering if his sleeptalking bout was over, when his
lips broke into a huge grin. She thought for instant he had actually been
pulling her leg, but he whispered to her with closed eyes, "Want some candy?"

"Candy?" Scully asked amusedly.

"Yeah, I got some under my bed. Don't squeal, okay? I just have them for
when Samantha cries and our babysitter's mean. But I think you're okay,
right?"

Scully smiled again. "Fox?" she asked. A question had suddenly popped
into her head about Mulder as a child, and the opportunity for an answer
was just to delicious to miss.

"Hm?" he answered sleepily.

"What do you want to be when you grow up?"

He cocked his head off to the left a little and inhaled. "A super
basketball player."

You'll certainly be tall enough, she wanted to say. "I bet you're a great
basketball player now."

He smiled. "Dana?"

"Yes?"

"I'm getting sleepy. Could you tuck me in already?"

She had come out of her shower fully intending to wake Mulder up and send
him back to his room. But with this turn of events, seeing Mulder as she'd
never - and would ever - see him again, was about as easy as jumping
off the Statue Of Liberty dressed only in her birthday suit.

Instead, she stood up and walked to the other side of the bed and took his
sneakers off, tucking his sock-clad feet under the blanket. Next, she
tucked the sheets around him, making sure no part of his body was exposed
to the cold bite of the air in the room.

She stood over him and brushed away some hair from his forehead, and
instinctively kissed him there. He smiled boyishly and sleepily, and
gulped a little bit before settling down.

"Good night, little boy." Dana whispered, before shutting off the lamp and
getting back into bed beside him and falling asleep herself.

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The End