Title- Dooby Dooby Dooo... (1/1) Author- Chel Scully E-mail- delphia@mailcity.com Classification- SHR Rating- PG (the A and S word) Keywords- Mulder/Scully romance. Summary- After getting thrown out of the charity ball, Mulder and Scully go off and have their own little dance, complete with music by Scully. Disclaimer- Sing with me now! To the tune of "Crash Into Me" by Dave Matthew's Band! "I write fanfic, you've got a prob? Don't sue me guys, I don't have a job. You think I own this show, my friend? You're much thicker than I thought then. It's just candy for my mind, when the show isn't being kind. Owned by Chris, the show is owned, by Chris. Oh, and I say Please! Don't sue me! And I create these plots, from the show's theme... from the show's theme..." Wow, that one sucked... I'll promise to do better next fic. Author's note- Finally... I get to try my newbie hands at a little RST! That's Resolved Sexual Tension, for you neophiles. Well, I mean *Resolved* Sexual Tension in the loosest sense possible... this is a family fanfic! Kinda... Oh, and Liv was the one who wanted a secluded willow grove... she explained why, but I forgot... and, sorry Liv, that I didn't have her wearing a flowing white dress. I figure Scully has better taste than that. :P X~~~~~~~~~~~~ Dooby dooby doo... ~~~~~~~~~~~~X The door slammed shut behind them. Mulder winced at the sound of it. It was pretty clear they weren't welcome *there* anymore. "Sorry about getting us thrown out," Mulder apologized to his partner, rubbing his jaw where an angry agent's fist had connected with it. Scully sighed. "S'okay... I wasn't having fun anyways." She was walking a small distance ahead of him, in a dark-wine colored dress with a shape that showed her curves perfectly and a hem that liked to drag in the grass. She looked like she might be having trouble walking, which could've been on account of the very high-heeled sandals she was wearing. He contemplated why she would want to dress so... out-of-character, for a simple charity ball. For a fleeting moment, he considered whether it was because of him, but it was still only fleeting, and the thought was pushed out of his mind just as quickly as it had popped in. "I didn't think you'd be the type for fancy balls," Mulder told her around his thoughts. She didn't answer. It was a long walk to their car, over a lawn wet from night sprinklers. Scully didn't look like she was going to make it, in those shoes. He wanted to say something, but the silence felt more comfortable than any conversation would have been at that moment. He resigned himself to memorizing how good she looked in that dress, because he figured she'd never wear anything like it for a long time. "Mulder, why did you hit Agent Gates?" She asked suddenly, turning to face him. He quickly shifted his gaze to her face to cover his tracks. "I, um..." He took a while to try to forget how she looked and think of an appropriate answer to her question, but when he realized there *was* no appropriate answer, he said "Forget it" and walked around her. Scully almost looked shocked, but stood her ground. "No," she demanded. "Why did you suddenly see it fit to get into a fight with Agent Gates?" He could only stare at her dully as he tried to think how he could phrase it without revealing too much of what should still be hidden. "He was being an asshole." "What was he doing?" She asked, fixing him in a blue-eyed vise. He didn't want to tell her. He'd have given anything in the world if he could somehow get around the topic. Scully was still looking at him expectantly. "He was insulting you," Mulder said quickly, hoping he could just get it over with. Her eyebrows went up, right on cue. "He was *what?*" <*Crash.*> "He'd had too many drinks... he was asking me about you..." He shifted his weight uncomfortably. "Asking personal things." Scully looked down at the dewy ground. A half-smile painted itself on her face as he tried to explain the rest. "You don't have to feel that you need to protect me, Mulder," she told him, close to laughter. His usual inner voice of self-hate started mocking him, like he thought his partner was doing. But she walked next to him, and put her arm around his waist, still half-smiling. The hateful voice stopped. She leaved against him, and when he looked down at her, something else caught his eye. He stopped walking, and stared at the willow grove on the other side of a collection of arsty-looking statues and bird-baths. "What? What is it?" She asked, trying to see what had caught his attention. "Willow trees..." He started walking back across the lawn, leaving her behind. "Yes, Mulder, those are willow trees..." She sounded like she was about to laugh again, as she struggled to catch up to him in her sandals. He stood in the center of the small grove, and looked up through patches in the leaves at the clear night sky. She caught up to him as he was sitting down on a convinient stump, still looking at the sky. "Looking for UFOs?" She asked dryly. Mulder decided to ignore that little comment. "You can see a lot of stars tonight," he commented. She looked up through the branches. "So you can." While she wasn't looking, he quickly studied her whole physique. That was much of all he could do with her. Look but don't touch. He didn't deserve anymore than that. Scully sighed, and shifted her weight. His glance skipped back to her face. She was staring at him. "What about your tux?" She asked vaguely, motioning at the stump he was sitting on. He looked down at what he was wearing. "They'll just have to wash it, won't they?" She looked like she hadn't thought of that, and said "I guess the same would go for this dress. Mind if I crash next to you?" She plopped down on the space left on the dead trunk. They both stared up at the stars. he thought. His instant response was to strike down the thought before it grew to be too dangerous, but it was already taking on a life of it's own. He shook his head. "What?" Scully asked him. "Oh... I was just thinking..." He shifted on his seat. "In my haste to get us thrown out, we never got to dance." "You mean, *we* never got to dance?" She asked, trying to clarify what didn't need much clarification. "Yeah... I guess we didn't." Blithely ignoring the voice of reason that said no, he stood up, dusted off his pants, and offered her his hand. She took his hand. "There's no music," she said, more as an amused comment than a complaint. "Well..." He slid his arms around her, waiting for her to protest, but she never did. "Sing something." This time she really did laugh. "Remember the last time gou told me that? I ended up sings 'Jeremiah Was a Bullfrog.'" "I'm not gonna sing anything." "Fine, lemme think..." She rested her head against his chest while they started dancing slowly. "Um... dooby dooby dooo..." He couldn't help but laugh. "The Bud Ice song?" "Well, the penguin danced to it..." She pointed out. "No, I think he was waddling." "It was all I could think of!" She chuckled, and tripped over the hem on her dress. "Shit," she muttered. "Potty mouth Scully," he taunted. "I can't dance in these shoes..." She complained as she hiked up her dress. "You can't dance with both your hands hanging on to your dress," he commented. "Screw the shoes and the dress..." Scully hopped on one small foot alternately as she took off her sandals and tossed them by the tree stump. "I can think of a million better things for you to screw." Mulder grinned impishly. Scully raised her eyebrows at him, as if she had read his thoughts. "Really, Mulder? Did you form that list while watching your videos?" "Ouch, Scully." She put herself back into his arms, treading carefully on the wet ground. Now the hem of her dress was *really* dragging on the ground. "I hate this dress," she muttered to him. "I feel like I'm wearing nothing." He bent his head down so his mouth was right next to her ear, and whispered seductively. "but you wear it so well." She jerked back and gave him an odd look. He just grinned at her. She kept her distance from him for a time, and he started to regret going to far with that remark. "Why don't *you* sing something?" She asked him then, trying to fix the silence. "Sing something..." "Just not 'Shaft.'" Scully smirked. "Dana Scully..." He started in a warning tone of voice. "Fox Mulder," she mocked his tone. He glared at her. "You're lucky you don't have an awful first name I can taunt *you* with." "Yeah?" She wrapped her arms around his neck. "In elementary and middle school everyone made sure to point out that Dana was also a *guy's* name, so they taunted me about that." "Really? They were teasing you about 'Dana?'" Scully nodded. "Some people will find anything to ridicule in a person." There were a few seconds of silence. She fit her head in the hollow between his shoulder and his neck and said "We still don't have any music." "I'm not singing anything." "Well, neither am I." She made an exausted noise. "Y'know..." She started abselntly. "The last time I saw you in a tux was about five years ago, when Phoe--" Scully cut herself off suddenly. "When Phoebe Green was visitng," he finished flatly. He remembered *that* all too well. Scully didn't say anything, but held on to him tighter. Apparently, she remember it too. He wondered amazedly. There was no way he thought that could be true. Mulder looked down at her skeptically, but as he did so he suddenly became very sure of something he wanted to do... no, something he *had* to do, before anything else could happen. "The last time I was in a tux..." He started. Scully looked up at him. He put his hand in her hair and regarder her for a few second. Then his head descended, his mouth met hers, and he kissed her slowly. When he finally released her, he quietly studied her reaction. She stared back at him, a little suprised, but not shocked, horrified, disgusted, or angry. They stayed like that, gazing at each other's faces, before she rested her forehead on his, and they continued dancing. X~~~~~~~~~~~~ Hmm... no bee...~~~~~~~~~~~~X To send compliments, constructive criticism, cute Mulder pics... On AOL Instant Messenger: ChelScully On ICQ: 14580789, Chel Scully or Chel On Mailcity: delphia@mailcity.com On HoTMaiL: chelscully@hotmail.com On WBS: Chel12562 Liv: "Insult him now!" Ris: "I don't like to become a beaver when my head is in the wrong region of space." Dad: "Oh, and Drew? You're no longer my Golden Boy." Kelly: "*Stupid grin*" Caz: "I'm glad you swoon too!" Me: "Caaaaahhz... I like it."