Finished April 9th, 1998.

Disclaimer: C.C is god, I am not. There are his not mine. K?

Category: MSR...was their any doubt?

Rating: Mush, or a G would work too.

Story told in first person

Dedications: To Brian Einsweiler who sent me an email with this title. And of coarse Sarah Benton, who is my dearest of deers, i mean dears. Thanks to Sam H. Who is always there for me to bounce ideas off of!

Like my cheese? Try more! Read my other stories! <Childhood Chums,Cubed Poetry, The Spot, Rendezvous with Shakespeare, Libido, Bent OnWinning, Matchmaker, Perceptions, and My Mind's Mine.>

Summary : Reflections while on a long plane ride.

Archive, sure just leave as is. I like to be surfing and find my stories places I didn't know they were. Very impowering. And no I am not being scarcastic!

"Where's the writer? I wanna speak to the writer." --Mulder in PMP

Feeback would be very Kewl..send away to---

"Ah! when will this long weary day have end,

And lende me leave to come unto my love?"

---Edmund Spencer

All day I saw it in your eyes, the need to be found. As you finally are aloud to sleep now, I marvel in how the day flew over me like a tame breeze. So many things occurred today to produce the end result I am holding now. The only problem is I wish we were not on this plane. I wish for your sake you could stretch out, and put your head in my lap. I touch your face and it is still warm to my cool hands. You are a very hot man. The fever you have now only increases this sensation. The damp cloth I have on your forehead a present for the flight attendant, needs to be changed. I remove it from your face and watch a barely noticeable shudder crease your face. To compensate for the loss I kiss your cheek. I move out of my aisle seat slowly, not wanting to leave you. However, I must in order to continue my nursing skills. It seems with you around I will never forget any of my medical training. I hate the way you abuse yourself.

The drive you have is passionate, but it should not be self depleting. Alas my thoughts change as I wait in line behind a small girl to use the tiny bathroom. She reminds me of myself at such an ideal age. When she leaves I enter to moisten the washcloth again. The flight attendants have been very kind to me on this flight, humoring my requests. Although between the fact that you're gorgeous and I flashed my badge I wouldn't have expected, or accepted for that matter any less. When I return to our seats you are not there. I was gone no more than 5 minutes. It is my turn now to shudder. I try to think of a logical reason you would be gone. After drawing a blank because I am dealing with you, I seek you. I find an attendant and ask about her about your whereabouts. She has not seen you. Just my luck you would jump off the plane or something equally crazy. I cover my hands with my eyes. My mood is broken when I hear the announcement over the intercom.

"Would Scully please come back," a very annoyed man's voice said.

Then I hear you in the background. "I am the F.B.I., don't give me that look. This is government business." I smile, you has made a friend, I'm sure. I follow the way the other attendants are now pointing so that I may collect you. When I reach your side you are very confused. I caress your cheek and hear you mutter, "I'm an agent." Your back is still slightly turned to me as I come closer. I smile.

"My favorite agent needs to lay down now," I tell you. I know this little expedition on the plane has not helped earn us any favors. I watch your body twisted around to fully take in my appearance. As you reach for me you nearly fall. With the help of an attendant we manage to get you back to our seats. The other passengers are more interested now in watching us than the movie that is playing. Well, I could careless, and I doubt you will even remember this in the morning. I place the replacement cloth on your forehead gently. I press it down and let the excess moisture run down your face, before collecting on the collar of your shirt. I remind myself never to fly again. When we arrived at the airport for our cross country flight you said you were only tired. I watched you put up the argument that you would only like to go home. Well, your condition quickly turned into sick and tired. I just hope this fever doesn't bloom into something more serious. I sigh, that is about all I can do. An attendant places her hand on my shoulder.

"Agent Scully, If you would like there are several seats in the back you could stretch out on." I smile at the kind offer, I was not expecting any help.

"Yes, thank you," I tell her as she leads the way. Once you are settled down again, I look at your innocent expresion gracing your face seeking comfort like a sick child. Stripped bare to your essence of your soul is how you look. I reach over and guide your head into my lap. You bury your head there, trying to escape the world around us. Within a few minutes my coaxing has conquered and your exhaustion takes over. I watch you fall off the edge of consciousness into what I hope is a dreamless sleep. As you descend I hear you murmur contentedly, "You found me."

I run my fingers through your soft hair, and down the outline of your face. I know you will not hear my answer but I say it anyway, "The feelings mutual Mulder."

El fin

"Oh magic sleep! O comfortable bird, that broodest o'er the troubled sea of the mind till it is hush'd and smooth!"

--- John Keats

my motto: "If you survive, please come again."

--Apu The Simpsons.