Part Two: Love in a Bottle

By xenoprobe

I had a lovely afternoon. We had a lovely afternoon. We spent a lot of time walking in the quarter looking in shops filled with antiques and relics of the old South. Mulder found an old FBI badge in an antique gun shop and tried to convince me to buy it. We saw St. Louis #1 cemetery with its oven style tombs and group plots. Mulder made a fuss over not having an offering to leave at the grave of Marie Laveau-the Voodoo Queen so I handed over my last breath mint to pacify him. Honestly, I'm not sure of all we accomplished; we laughed a lot and took our time with each other. I couldn't remember ever feeling so close to him or so relaxed. All our close moments in the past had been driven by desperation or fear, that day was simply time well spent in a city whose motto was 'let the good times roll'. I was content.

We stopped for a while at Café du Monde and I listened closely as Mulder told me about jazz funerals and some of the more famous ghosts that frequented the quarter. We sat side by side with his arm across the back of my chair and watched a street performer play the clarinet. Mulder disappeared for a good twenty minutes, claiming he had something important to take care of. We took a while sifting through the stalls in the French market and shared a bag of fresh candied pralines before I realized we were standing outside of his hotel.

"Do you mind if we pop in to freshen up before dinner?" He smiled and held the iron gate open for me. The courtyard housed an in-ground pool and a Jacuzzi; a couple trees shaded the area from the hot Louisiana sun.

"Mulder, this is lovely. How did you find this place?"

"Oddly enough, Frohike did, on the net." Nice going Frohike, perhaps he did have taste after all. "All the rooms are furnished in period furniture and have galleries along Frenchman Street. You have to see it Scully..."

Mulder slid his key in and opened the door wide. It was lovely. The bed was an antique wood carved double with a huge high headboard that ran up to the ceiling. There was a matching armoire and washstand complete with a jug and basin and linen towels. I was impressed. I turned to tell Mulder how beautiful it all was when I noticed he was blushing.

"Mulder, are you alright?"

"It's for you Scully." He swung his arm out gesturing into the room. I looked around, letting his voice burn in my ears until I saw my luggage stacked neatly by the left side of the bed.

"Mulder... how did you- when did you manage all of this?" I was suddenly very uncomfortable.

"When we stopped at the Café, I made a few calls and had your things sent over. I wanted to surprise you." Surprise, my entire trip to New Orleans had been one Muldersurprise after another. "There's more..."

I watched him stride across the room and open another door, I'd assumed it was the bathroom. It was a sitting room with a chaise lounge and sofa, a desk and a small breakfast table with twin chairs. The colours were of bright peaches and blues in stripes and florals. I was indeed impressed.

"See, they even gave me a couch to sleep on..." His words drifted past me. I didn't want him to sleep on the couch...

"Oh Mulder." I did my best to roll my eyes and brush off his comment.

"Well Scully, if we're going out for dinner, we should get ready. I'll get changed in here and meet you down in the courtyard in a while ok." He winked at me, the Fox Mulder wink. This was such a bizarre trip.

I found myself checking twice in the mirror. My hair was a little curlier than usual, why fight the humidity, and my new slinky black dress was perfect. All I had left to do was put on some of my signature perfume, my Mulder perfume-love in a bottle. I dabbed behind my ears, in the hollow of my neck, in my cleavage- such as it was, and just a drop to moisten my inner wrists. Whatever was happening to me or to us, it was new and nowhere near finished, dinner hadn't even begun.

I caught a glimpse of Mulder standing outside before I walked through the French doors. He was checking his teeth in the reflection of a plaque on the building. He looked like a teenager waiting for his prom date, unwilling to go into the house and face the father. My father might have liked Mulder, mom certainly did. I pushed he doors open slowly.

I wish I could have read his mind. He looked shocked. Not that deadpan face of panic I'd grown so accustomed to but and actual emotive expression.

"Scully." He was breathless. So was I. "You. You're beautiful."

"Thank you for noticing." I tried to be off-the-cuff about it but inside I was burning up.

"I've always known... it's just, it's that I've never seen you this dressed up before." He took a couple of awkward steps in my direction and held out his hand to walk me down the three steps between us. I stopped on the last stair and looked at him face to face. He was beautiful too. I could have kissed him, my friend, my partner. I couldn't move. I went rigid when he leaned into my neck and inhaled deeply, drawing cool air over my skin. "You smell delicious, like the sea Scully. You smell fresh like the ocean."

"Yes, I suppose you know all about that too Mulder. I have you and 'Madame Deneuve' to thank for this wonderful fragrance." I stepped just a little closer.

"You deserved a treat Scully, you put up with so much shit from me, I wanted to thank you for still being here."

"So this is just a thank you?" I raised my eyebrow. "'Cause you know Mulder, there's a reason I put up with you. There's a reason why our work on the X-Files is so important to me. So if the perfume is just a thank you Mulder, you really shouldn't have bothered. I'm not going anywhere."

"Why is that Scully, why have you stayed? Why haven't you left after all of these years of my crap?" If I could have found the courage, I would have told him right then and there. I couldn't find the words.

"Because of you. Not for you, for myself-we're good together Mulder." His face was just inches from mine, level. I could see the softness in his expression. "Its more than just the work, it's the friendship too, for as much I've dealt with you, you've always been patient with me Mulder. I know I'm not always a treat to handle." I shot a glance downward, guarding myself. I saw his hand move upward, then felt it cup my cheek gently.

"Always a treat Scully." I was rooted to that step with nervous energy. I looked back up at him as his body shifted slightly forward then back again. "Let's go eat..." So close I could feel his breath upon my face.

*****

The restaurant was beautiful and crowded. We sat on the second story of galleries that overlooked Royale Street. The vines and flower boxes only added to the bevy of smells and sights around us. We ate quietly, Mulder had a seafood gumbo and I had the jambalaya to be in keeping with the 'when in Rome' attitude I'd adopted since my arrival. I don't think I realized right away but I sat there eating and watching Mulder's mouth, his strong jaw as he chewed, the way his tongue darted out once in a while to catch the flavour from his lips. I saw rather than heard him saying my name to pull me from my reverie. I continued to watch him speak, noting his hands gesturing over his plate of food, occasionally pointing down into the crowded streets below us. I watched him pour me wine. I watched his eyes while I spoke and could see him listening. I watched him watching me and began to become painfully aware of the tension that danced across the small gallery table between us.

Despite this tension I was relaxed in his company, Mulder was a charming, attentive dinner date. We stayed for a shared dessert of apple crumble with French vanilla and praline ice cream. I thought I caught Mulder biting his lower lip while watching me lick ice cream off my finger but I wasn't confident enough to be sure. The sun had gone down long before we left the restaurant and I was chilly from the sweets.

"You look cold Scully. Here-" he said, slipping his jacket off his long arms, "take this until we get back to the hotel." I slipped the coat on and laughed at how the sleeves were nearly twice as long as my arms. Mulder snickered as he rolled up the cuffs until they were wide and heavy around my wrists. He stopped; still gripping my right arm and stood up tall and very briefly laid my open palm to his chest. It was a quiet and powerful gesture. "There, you should be warmer now." He placed my arm back at my side.

It was a near-silent stroll back to the hotel and I realized that the creeping sadness I was feeling was a reluctance to end our wonderful day. I wanted so much to forget about getting back to DC and losing this magic.

"Mulder, why don't we sit outside for a while." I suggested as he closed the courtyard gate behind us.

"Are you sure Scully, will you be warm enough with my jacket on?"

"I'm fine Mulder." I realized the words as soon as they left my lips and exchanged a quick smile with Mulder. "Really, I'm ok." It was the truth. Well not quite the truth as I was a little warm but unwilling to part with his garment.

Mulder pulled out a wrought iron chair for me but I shook my head. Instead, I pulled my dress up a little and sat down on the interlocking brick to put my feet in the sun-warmed swimming pool. Mulder brought a long lounge chair over and placed the head of it next to me, facing it away from the pool. He relaxed back into the chair, closing his eyes and sighing heavily. I watched him there, his chest rising against his white shirt as he breathed evenly. I rested back on my hands and stirred my feet idly to the rhythm of his rise and fall.

"Scully?" He didn't open his eyes.

"Mmm-hmm." I said lazily.

"I've really enjoyed this, this whole day with you." He smiled as I smiled. "You're so relaxed and warm, it's been great to be in your company."

"Thank you Mulder." I spoke softly. "I've enjoyed you too."

"There's only one thing wrong with this day..."

"And that is?"

"It has to end." He opened his eyes and looked straight into me. I was blown away by the darkened, somber quality in his regard. "We'll get back to DC, back to the X-Files and the stress will settle in again and this time in New Orleans will slip away from us."

It was such a solid statement, 'from us', as if something had actually happened or changed between us. I dropped my head and considered our time spent. Nothing had happened. In all honesty, as much as I felt different, as much as there'd been a flare of renewed tension between us, things were still the same. We were bound for home with nothing but a few surprises and stolen pauses. And my perfume.

"I don't know about that Mulder. I don't think I'll ever feel anything but calm when I smell that perfume. That alone will bring me back to this place, here with you. We do have to go back to work but this day exists in a perfect blue bottle for me."

"I was my sister's you know." I looked up at him, not understanding. "She found the bottle in the sand on the Vineyard one summer and carted it around with her forever. I found it under her pillow after she was gone and kept it." He focused his eyes on mine and must have seen the tears welling there. "I had the cap and chain made for it and brought it here for the perfume."

"Mulder." A traitor tear slipped down my cheek and he caught it with the pads of his fingers. He saw my questioning stare and continued.

"I arrived on the flight after you and saw Mme. Deneuve right away. After you came in she rang me to say how well the scent suited you and that I must really l-l-love you to have translated your essence into such a unique fragrance." I watched him stumble on that word. That word.

"She said the same thing to me." I couldn't speak above a whisper. He held up my face with his thumb and index finger to my chin and smiled crookedly. I couldn't stop the shiver that rocked me as I responded to the touch.

"You are cold. Let's get you inside." He put back the chair and helped me to my feet with a gentle tug and I left little wet footprints in the wake of his stride as we went to our room.

[end of part two]