"Afterburn"

Mulder rolled off her, landing on his back with a thump on the hardwood floor. He smacked his eyelids open and closed for a few seconds as his chest heaved in and out, releasing heavy gusts of air. Sweat sparkled on his flushed face, a bead of the salty liquid drained through his eyelids, temporarily stinging his eyes closed. A wide cheeky grin burst open on his face.

"Uh, Mulder?" Scully looked at him with a small measure of disgust. "You wanna move a bit? I'm trying to get some covers."

Lazily he turned his head, his droopy eyes drunk and satiated. Then he remembered. "Oh, geez, Scully. I'm sorry." With a scoot, he sat up, firmly implanting a sliver into his right buttock. Wincing, he turned to Scully. "Ya gotta know I was trying. I mean, it's been so long. Well, you know ... "

Scully yanked the sheet out from under him. "Don't worry about it." She sighed heavily and covered herself.

Mulder scanned the living room of his apartment trying to locate his briefs. There, on the top of the aquarium. He spoke as he crawled over to retrieve them. "It's been such a long time in coming ... uh ... sorry. I just got too excited. I promise it won't happen next time."

Scully rolled her eyes. "Don't worry about it, Mulder, I'm fine."

"Really, Scully, I didn't mean ... "

Exasperated, Scully cut him off. "Seriously, don't worry about it." Scully got up and walked toward the bathroom tripping on the sheet. Mulder loped over and caught her mid-fall. "Thanks," Scully gave him a bent little smile, then side-walked into the bathroom. "The sheet's a bit tight, I guess." Mulder went to the kitchen to prepare some breakfast. He was temporarily overcome by snow blindness when he opened the fridge, but as his eyes grew accustomed to the light, he discovered what he was looking for.

"Hey Mulder, would you grab my clothes?" Scully called from the bathroom. Once again surveying the living room, he located the items-on top of the bookshelf, over the door handle and hanging halfway out the window. He gathered her clothes and brought them to the door, rapping lightly. "Made us some breakfast," he said proudly.

She opened the door a crack and took her clothes. A few minutes later she entered the room.

"Ta-da!" Mulder proclaimed. In front of him on the table lay a half-eaten pizza in a box.

"Cold pizza? For breakfast?" Scully was incredulous.

Hurt, Mulder whined, "But it's got pineapple on it." An idea came to him. "Oh, wait a minute." He stepped back into the kitchen and grabbed the other object in the fridge. "Here! Something to drink."

Scully raised her eyebrows and shook her head. "PowerAide? Blue PowerAide. Mulder, you amaze me."

Mulder skulked to the couch, picking at the sliver under his briefs, the wound now red, puffy and itchy. "Damn it, Scully, you've been just, well, pissy all morning."

"Well, Mulder, I think the four uninterrupted hours of of Elvis tunes was starting to wear on me."

"Now, Scully, I don't think you should go there. Don't mess with the King." He tried to turn his head around far enough to see the offending sliver.

"And another thing, that lens in the ceiling is giving me the creeps."

"That's been disconnected. Remember? I took care of that," Mulder said as he reached under the coffee table and pushed the off button. "Here, have some pizza."

"No thanks." She strolled over to look at the magazines and books shelved above the aquarium.

Mulder jumped in front of her. "Uh, where ya going?"

Scully was puzzled. "I just wanted to look at your ... ah, literary collection." She craned her neck around him.

"Oh. Well, I don't really like people looking at my stuff." He moved his head to block her view.

"Huh. Little paranoid, there, Mulder?" She sat back on the couch.

Mulder began jumping up and down, scratching at the damn sliver. "Listen, Scully you've got some low grade hostility going on here, and I'm not sure ... "

"Ha!" she cried. "Don't you go about analyzing me, you passive aggressive egomaniacal pretty boy!"

Mulder's lower lip began to quiver. "Pretty boy?" He bit back. "Well, not that I can't predict the seasons by the unending shade changes of your perfect coiffure."

Scully glared at him. "Ooh, you're hurting me. It kinda feels like someone's trying to drill a hole in my head. No, wait, I forgot-you like that sort of thing."

In a huff, Mulder finally yanked the sliver from his behind, letting out a high-pitched girlie scream of relief. Scully put her head in her hands and rocked it slowly, sorrowfully back and forth.

Mulder had had it. He dragged some pants and a t-shirt out of the laundry basket and pulled them on. Shoving a long, long, neatly crocheted hat on his head, he headed for the door. "Freeze!"

He stopped dead in his tracks and turned around. Scully was holding a gun, training it right at his genitals. "Wha?" he sputtered.

Scully was all business. "You ditch me, I'll shoot your head off."

Mulder grabbed for the gun in his ankle holder < intentional non-continuity > but it tripped off his fingers and fell down the unscrewed and opened air vent. "Uh, I'm sorry. It'll never happen again." He began inching his way to the couch.

"Damn straight," Scully declared.

The two agents stared at each other for a few moments. Then, meekly, Scully spoke. "Listen Mulder, I guess this was a mistake. We gave in to popular opinion and it ruined our unresolved sexual tension."

Mulder chuckled, "Kind of like Moonlighting, huh?"

Scully acquiesced, "Yeah. Listen, I need to get into the office. The desk is being delivered at noon."

She turned the doorknob to the hall and paused. "Mulder. We're still friends, right?"

Mulder nodded and softly replied, "Yeah, still friends."

A tiny smile played on Scully's lips. She gave him a nod and headed down the corridor.

"Wait, Scully!" Mulder dashed back in his apartment and then reappeared. He strode toward her, holding a small vial in his hand. "Since we're being honest here, I just thought I should give this to you. It's kind of slipped my mind."

Puzzled, Scully took the tiny frozen tube. "What is it?"

"Your eggs."

Scully slugged Mulder in the gut.

END