Title: Love in a Bottle

Classification: MSR, UST, RST

Rating: NC-17

Spoilers: some little references throughout the series, nothing specific.

Summary: Scully finds love while away at a Pathology Convention in New Orleans.

Feedback: I need feedback, please gimme feedback- xenoprobe@hotmail.com

Archive: Sure go ahead, just let me know first ok?

Disclaimer: Chris and 1013 would never let Mulder and Scully do the things I write about... they most definitely are not mine.

Love in a Bottle

By xenoprobe

My head was pounding. I could hardly stand it any longer. I could hear every minute tic of a sound going on in that hall. A cough here, a sniffle there, papers rustling, and chair legs squeaking, I was about to lose control. If I had a five-dollar bill for each and every time I got a headache at a Pathology Convention, I'd be a rich little G-woman.

I decided not to care that my departing would disrupt a fascinating speech about pulmonary conditions, I got up, screeching chair and all and crept off to my hotel room for some heavy-duty meds. No sooner did I slip into my room I noticed that the phone message light was flashing. Mulder. It had to be Mulder 'cause mom has never called me when I'm away. I dialed in and retrieved the messages.

"Hey Scully it's me. How's the 'stiff' convention. (snicker) I was just going over some files and found an interesting bit of information that could use a follow up. I thought you might contact this person for me while you were staying in New Orleans. I'd really appreciate it. Its Mrs. Deneuve at the Parfumerie Deneuve on Royale and St. Anne. She listed here in the X-Files as being one of the last remaining perfume makers that can make hurricane drops, y'know the hallucinogen. Thanks Scully, I really appreciate it." Click.

Thump thump thump... my head was beyond pain. On to message number two:

"Scully-me again. Listen, I know it's not fair that I ask you to work while you're away at this Convention. I'm sorry. So how about I take you out to a really nice restaurant when you get back for doing this for me. Okay?" Click.

Grrrrr. I was ready to explode. Nice restaurant my ass. Mulder's idea of fine dining was putting the take-out Chinese on real plates. One last message.

"Hey Scully? Are you there? Listen, I hope you haven't already been to see Mrs. Deneuve, it was wrong of me to ask. Call me as soon as you get this message ok Scully? I have a better idea-call me Scully." Click.

An idea- he had an idea. I was simply unable to call him back and fell asleep right there on top of the comforter.

It must have been the noise from the streets below that woke me from my nap. I quickly took some Advil and was thankful that my headache was better for having rested. I shuffled over to the doors to the upper gallery and pushed them open wide. The street scene in the French Quarter was busy, filled with drunken students and wandering tourists. It was as if every night was a mini Mardi Gras. I had always really wanted to visit here and surprisingly our X-Files had never brought us to the voodoo/vampire capital of the US. So when the Pathology Convention was posted for the Marriott in the Quarter, I jumped at the chance. Too bad the convention was so boring and the choices for company even worse.

I grabbed my cell phone and hit memory 1 for Mulder. No answer. I tried the landline and his answering machine kicked in after only two rings. I resolved not to worry, that kind of paranoia was best suited to Mulder not me. Instead, I took a shower and dressed in a pair of relaxing jeans and white v-neck tee shirt. If I was going to go searching for Mrs. Deneuve's hurricane drops, I might as well be comfortable.

The sky was a deep bright blue at dusk and I decided to take a stroll before heading the Perfume shop. The quarter smelled of pastries, garbage and beer- not the best scent for the lingering ache in my head. I wandered over to Chartres Street and looked at art work, peered into a few antique stores and even tried on a Victorian styled hat in a boutique. Somehow it just didn't suit me.

The arched door to the Parfumerie Deneuve was low and even I had to bend to turn the knob, New Orleans is sinking after all. The store was scented with a million individual flavours, each vying for top billing in my nose, I sneezed. An elderly woman peered over a high pile of recipe books and cleared her throat.

"May I help you Mam'selle?" Her voice was husky and dripped with a Franco-Louisiana drawl.

"My name is special agent Dana Scully with the FBI." I went to reach for my badge but the woman halted me with a hand gesture.

"If you're here to try and shut me down again I'll have none of it!" Her face twisted in a scowl.

"No, no I'm here on behalf of my partner who believes you hold the last known recipe for Hurricane drops. I told him I'd come-"

"Your partner... he have a deep voice? With an animal name... Fox or somethin'?"

"Yes." Was she psychic too? "How did you know that?"

"He called me about an hour ago and talked to my assistant, asking her about the drops and tellin' her not to hassle you when you came in." When I came in- boy, Mulder was a presumptuous bastard at times, I missed him. Mrs. Deneuve introduced herself and went on to explain that her recipe for Hurricane drops was as old as the quarter and she would not even consider selling any, these days. Once a year she made a batch for herself and close friends to share on Fat Tuesday.

Mulder never explained why he was interested in the drops so I didn't really know what to ask, I just let the older woman ramble on about the times when the whole French quarter was buzzing with the effects of her hurricane prescriptions."You wear perfume Miss Scully?" I shook my head. If scented body lotion or baby powder qualified as perfume, than yes.

"Not really."

"Well then, we'll have to get you your own signature scent." The woman slapped her hands together loudly and I started just a bit.

"No, no really, I should be going anyhow. I'm afraid my partner didn't leave me any instructions as to what he wanted to know about your talents. Thank you anyway Mrs. Deneuve." I stood and put out my hand to shake hers and she slapped it away.

"I'll have none of that Miss Scully. Now, unless you got some pressin' FBI business, I'll be suitin' you up with a perfume." What could I do but smile and take my seat. "So, tell me, what kinds of smells do you like. I can create anything. I have hyacinths and fresh honeysuckle nectar. I even have some prime Jasmine boof out of Jamaica. Let Madame Deneuve re-create you."

I had to admit that her over-dramatic nature was pleasant, with nowhere else to be I figured I'd let her make me something. Something all my own.

"Tell me, do you have a favourite flower, a scent you like. Perhaps a food or drink that makes you stop to savour the smell?" Mulder. I couldn't help it. It was the first thing that popped into my head. Mulder. He always smelled so good a bit leathery and male, very male. I could feel the blush on my cheeks and 'madame' Deneuve was reading me all too easily. "Perhaps someone you know that smells good?" I shook of the flush and trained my mind on other things.

"The ocean." It was all I could spit out. "As a child, I loved the scent of the ocean. My father was in the Navy and we spent a lot of time near water. Something about the way my skin and hair smelled after a day in the sun and salty water... I loved that smell." Mrs. Deneuve leaned in close to my neck and breathed in deeply.

"I'd say you still have a hint of that ocean in you now, Miss Scully." She smiled at me and I could not help but to smile back. She was quite the entertainer. "Why don't you go for a stroll around Jackson Square, have your Tarot cards read or somethin', then come back and see me in an hour. I'll have a bottle for you by then. She smiled again and made a shoo shoo wave, gesturing me out of the boutique.

Tarot cards indeed. Mulder would have laughed at that one. Dana Scully skeptic extraordinaire having tarot and runes read in the heart of vampire city. Mulder would laugh for sure. I missed him though. Somehow the idea of stopping for café au lait and beignets at Café du Monde seemed a solitary event without his witty conversation. He would tell me about how the corpses used to flood the streets before they discovered that New Orleans was below sea level. He'd show me the above ground tombs in the famous cemeteries and offer some lame comments about nosing the newly deceased. And although I already knew all this, I'd enjoy him for his storytelling. Mulder was an excellent storyteller, whether he was believable or not.

I walked down by the river and watched an evening jazz cruise float by. The sounds echoed past me and blended with the buzz of noise in the quarter. It was a strange mix of new and ancient with hooves on cobblestone and frat boys hollering 'show us yer tits'. Charming. I was already making my way back to the perfume shop when I saw a gorgeous little black dress in a boutique window. I crossed the threshold thinking 'you would never have reason to wear a dress like that' but decided to venture on. The next thing I knew, I had tried it on and was paying cash at the register. Maybe Mulder would take me out someday after all. A girl could dream.

I was feeling altogether foolish when I stepped into Mrs. Deneuve's shop, new dress, new perfume. I was never this girly but it felt so nice to pamper myself. If Mulder had been there it would have been perfect.

"Ahh. Miss Scully has returned. Have seat and I'll bring you my creation." I sat and realized I was a little excited as to what this woman could have conjured up as my 'signature' scent. She returned promptly with a beautiful little blue glass bottle in her grip. She handed it to me and frankly I had to examine the bottle despite my interest in its contents.

It was a deep sea blue with a tidal wave carved all the way around it. It had a screw on cap with a little gold linked chain attached to the neck of the bottle.

"This looks antique. Do all your patrons get such lovely keepsakes for their perfume purchases?" I grinned, rolling the bottle delicately in my hands.

"Why don't you put a little dab on Miss Scully, I promise my perfumes are like magic, it will transform you."

"Well that's quite the promise." I couldn't help remarking. I opened it and put a few drops on my neckline. It smelled wonderful, just like the sea and sunshine and skin. I was instantly transported back to hot summer days and cool breezes off the water, me and Missy dancing in the sand. I must have drifted in my reverie; it took a moment before I realized Mrs. Deneuve was speaking to me. "This, this is wonderful."

"Ahh Miss Scully, that is love in a bottle." I arched an eyebrow. Love in a bottle.

"How did you make this? I mean its perfect." Madame Deneuve took a mouthful of peppermint leaves from a nearby dish and chewed.

"I had some help with this one. You mentioned your love for the scent of the ocean, but I must admit, I was already working that boof before you entered my store." She was smiling again. "That partner of yours knows you really well Miss Scully. He knows about your smell and this perfume is the result of his description of you when he spoke to me earlier today." I was blushing again. Mulder. I could kill him and kiss him all at once. I had never felt so wonderful and scared all at the same time. What could he have said to come up with this perfect scent? "Your Mr. Mulder said you were fresh like a new baby and clean without being sterile. He talked about the smell of your hair having a hint of lemons and your skin smelling of the sea, like you'd been standing on the beach in the wind. Like I said, love in a bottle."

"But Mulder and I aren't-"

"I know, I know, he explained it to me on the phone, you aren't together, just partners and all. But I'll say this, I've been making perfume here on Royale all my life and it takes a certain kinda love to make a perfume like that one. Now, go on... go enjoy your new clothes and new perfume." She was truly amazing, I only noticed her glance once at my bags.

"What do I owe you for this?" I reached for my wallet.

"Nothin' it's already taken care of. Remember Miss Scully that's your unique scent, don't share with the other gals or Mr. Mulder won't know how to find you."

I stepped out into the sticky air feeling confident and feminine. I flipped open my cell phone and tried Mulder once again.

"Hello?"

"Mulder, it's me."

"Scully, where are you, I've tried the hotel several times." Did I hear panic in his voice.

"I guess my cell was off, I haven't been back to hotel for several hours now Mulder, I went to see your contact about the hurricane drops."

"And..." No, not panic, but something in his voice was different. I couldn't put my finger on it.

"And she says her recipe's the oldest one in the quarter and she knows of no one else who still brews the stuff. What did you want to know about the hurricane drops Mulder, I had a hard time interviewing her without an angle."

"It was- I wanted- I suppose I just wanted to know about the tradition Scully." Either he was lying or he'd been reading Jitterbug Perfume again.

"Is everything alright Mulder? You sound strange." I had to dig a little, had to know if he'd say anything about the perfume. "I hope you aren't disappointed that Mrs. Deneuve wouldn't give me any hurricane drops."

"No, Scully that's fine... I didn't think she part with any either. I'm ok though, just sorry that I made you run around when you were supposed to be at the Convention."

"I didn't mind, it was an interesting trip to say the least." I could have sworn I heard him cough a bit when I said 'interesting'. "She had a lot of lovely things to say about perfume she even made me a sample." I thought that would make him say something, instead he just cleared his throat and say 'oh really'. Typical Mulder. That warm feeling I'd left the shop with was beginning to slip away, he was as aloof as usual- so much for love in a bottle. "Well Mulder, if you have nothing left to say, I think I'll get back to the hotel."

"Scully wait." I swear my pulse jumped up speed. "Never mind... I guess I'll see you later." I decided to say something unlike me, just to see what he'd do.

"I miss you Mulder." My voice was definitely shaky.

"You do?" He sounded twelve.

"Yeah, this city would be much better with your company I think. I guess its hard, we spend so much time together with work and everything, I miss you when you're not with me." With me... I wish he knew how much I missed him, I wish I knew how to tell him.

"Scully? ...I miss you too. I'll see you soon ok?"

"I'll be home in two days Mulder. Thanks. Thanks for everything." I could hear him smiling and I knew then, he understood why I was thanking him.

I stood in front of the mirror in my hotel room staring. My new black dress hugged the curves of my body and came up high around my neck then into a deep V; the sleeves were purposefully long. I loved it. I stood there pulling my hair up, piling it on top of my head, feeling like a million bucks, so unlike myself.

I peeled off the dress, pulling it over my head, and caught the scent of my new perfume in my nostrils. I inhaled deeply, feeling the warmth of memories deep within. I realized then that for all the memories of Missy and me on the beach being chased by Charlie and Bill, they were part of my past. That part of my life was over and could only be called upon like a family photo album, a fond record of events. My perfume was alive, new, expectant. I had the sense that it held promise and if I were a betting woman, just maybe it had some love in it too. I tossed the dress on the bed and went for a long soak in the claw foot tub. Pampering was a definite treat.

That night I tossed and turned, I grabbed at the empty pillows that shared my large bed. I fought back dreams of Mulder and I, memories of moments between us. I drifted in and out of recollections of his hand on my lower back, guiding me through the door to our basement office, of his soft fingers sliding over my cheek to wake me on a stakeout, the smell of him-up close when he invaded my space. He always invaded my space, no wonder he was invading my dreams as well.

It was well past four o'clock in the morning when I resolved to pull on my satin robe and sit outside on the gallery. I eased into a large wooden rocker and peered out into the narrow streets of old New Orleans. The smell of garbage and beer still lingered but it was surprisingly quiet compared to a few hours earlier. I pulled the satin lapels to my face and breathed in the ocean of my perfume then relaxed into a quite doze out on the balcony. I resolved to not attend any more of the pathology convention, I wanted to enjoy the city and hold on to the feeling I'd found here. Love.

I woke in my bed at noon the next day and found the message light blinking on my phone again:

"Hey Scully it's me. Listen I had an idea I wanted to run by you and we didn't get around to discussing it when we spoke yesterday. Call me when you get in ok? (pause) Ok then. Bye." Click.

It was nice to hear his voice. I leaned over and dialed Mulder on the cell.

"Scully?"

"Yeah, it's me... what are you psychic now Mulder?"

"I just had a feeling it would be you."

"So what is this idea you keep referring to Mulder? Do you have another lead for me to check on, perhaps some strange voodoo ritual or something?" I laughed- I couldn't help it.

"No. No it's not a lead Scully. I was wondering what your favourite food was."

"Why, are you taking me out on a hot date Mulder. Somehow I don't think Chinese on your coffee table qualifies." I was being tough on him but sometimes it was necessary.

"I was thinking maybe Cajun."

"Well, by the time I get back to DC I'll likely have had my fill of Cajun cuisine." Where was he going with this? He could be so vague at times.

"That's true but-" There was a knock at my door.

"Just a second Mulder, someone's at the door. I placed the phone temporarily on the bed and slipped back into my scented robe. "I'll be right back."

I shuffled over to the door and opened it. Shit. Mulder, it was Mulder, still holding his phone.

"I thought a nice restaurant in New Orleans would offer better Cajun food than DC. How about it Scully?" My jaw must have dropped to the floor.

"Mulder! Wha- what are you doing here? You came to New Orleans..."

"You said you missed me Scully. I couldn't help it." I must have looked charming, standing there agape in my robe and bed head hair. I wasn't sure what to say next. "Come in. Where's your luggage?"

"At the hotel." This was getting more confusing by the second.

"What hotel? Mulder... how long have you been here?"

"Since yesterday. I'm staying at the Frenchman in the lower quarter, over by the French market." Yesterday, he'd been here since yesterday. I was reeling.

"Yesterday." He nodded, I nodded. "And you waited until now to tell me?" He nodded again and smiled. Up until that moment I was considering being angry with him for not making his presence known, but that smile, it won me every time. "What can I do for you Mulder?"

"Let me take you out for dinner Scully. Let me take you out for the day too. It's lovely here and we could use the break from work." I stood there for a moment, thinking. It would be a nice break so I smiled back at him.

"Alright then. But I'm certainly not ready to go now, look at me, I'm a mess." I really was.

"You look great to me." He muttered and I almost thought I heard him say 'beautiful' when he turned away. I must have been three shades of red when he looked at me again.

"Why don't you go have a seat on the balcony and I'll get cleaned up..." I turned and grabbed my clothes and headed for the bathroom.

I stood in front of the medicine cabinet looking at my face through the steam from the running shower. This was weird. I was grinning like a fool, which I never do, and my jaw ached just a bit from all the smiling I'd been doing of late. Weird. I slipped out of my robe and showered. I made sure to dab on some of the perfume before dressing and I only put on a bit of makeup, leaving my freckles visible for a change. I felt fresh and clean and invigorated.

When I waltzed out onto the gallery Mulder's expression was worth his little aggravations. He looked pleased, rather pleasantly surprised.

"You look-" Could it be that Mulder was finally at a loss for words? Surely not. "You look wonderful, relaxed."

"C'mon Mulder, you're taking me out on the town."

When we passed through the foyer and out into the street, I felt Mulder's hand slide down my spine and ease me through the doorway. I was smiling again.

[end of part one...]