Title: Turkey Trot
Author: Vickie Moseley
Summary: Can an old dog learn new tricks?
Category: Holiday fic, X
Rating: for everyone
Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended and that goes for yahoo news (see
notes at end)
Written for Virtual Season 15, two weeks exclusive.
Archive: yes
Thank you, Lisa for beta and Donna for patience. May your turkeys never dry out.
3605 N Street NW
Washington, DC
November 18, 2007
4:30 pm
“Yeah, well it can’t be helped.”
Scully tucked a strand of hair behind her left ear as she held the phone at her right
ear with her shoulder.
“No, I understand completely, Mom. Chicken pox is chicken pox, there is no easy
way to get around it.”
Mulder had been ignoring the call, listening to the football game but at the words
‘chicken pox’, he sat forward and openly eavesdropped.
“No, you tell Tara not to worry, we’ll be fine. Sure. No, I don’t think we’ll let the
Gunmen know that we’re by ourselves for Thanksgiving this year.”
He stood up, slicing his index finger across his throat in a vicious manner, indicating
that he was not going to subject himself to Frohike’s culinary experimentation again.
“Well, that case of food poisoning last time was pretty hard on Mulder. Besides,
maybe I’ll make him take me to some bed and breakfast in the mountains. Yeah,
just the two of us.” She tilted her head and gave him a saucy smile. “That does
sound nice, doesn’t it? Well, kisses to the pox-riddled from Auntie Dana and I’ll call
you later if we do end up going out of town. We love you, too, Mom. Bye.”
Mulder had been hanging on every word and when his partner finally hung up the
phone, he shot her a worried look. “What’s going on?”
“Well, Thanksgiving is a bust this year. Both Matt and Claire have come down with
chicken pox. They’ll be pretty miserable for a week at least.”
“Chicken pox,” Mulder mused aloud. “How did they both come down with it — they
don’t even go to the same school?”
“Kid down the street. The whole neighborhood is under quarantine. And Mom is
staying over to help Tara out.”
“So, it’s just you and me for Thanksgiving, huh?” Mulder asked, stepping over to
where Scully sat on the sofa and pulling her up into his arms. “I can think of lots of
things to do with a turkey baster, Scully.”
“I’m sure you could, Mulder, but I think a nice four-poster bed in a quaint little
country inn overlooking some spectacular scenery is more what I had in mind.”
“You leave this one to me. I have the perfect destination. I just have to do a little
research and I’ll make all the arrangements,” he assured her.
She cocked her head and frowned. “Some place nice, Mulder. I want nothing that
has the word ‘save’ in the name.”
He dutifully ran his index finger over his heart. “Cross my heart and hope to die,
stick a needle in my eye,” he quoted. “I won’t even look at places that have less
than 600 thread count sheets.”
She nodded. “OK. I’ll leave it all up to you.”
FBI Headquarters
November 21, 2007
11:45 am
“So that’s your explanation, Agent Mulder? Field mice?”
“Yes sir,” Scully responded before he could open his mouth and get them stuck in
another long explanation of the reasons he took this case. “In the transformer.
What Agent Mulder originally thought might have been telekinetic force was actually
just an electrical arc from the transformer — ”
“–That was caused when some field mice chewed through the insulation,” Mulder
finished.
Skinner nodded his head and closed the file. “Well, good work. And might I
commend you on the lack of medical costs associated with this investigation.”
Scully hid her smile behind her hand but Mulder frowned at the dig. “Well, sir, if
that’s all . . . ”
“Oh, yes, you two have requested the afternoon off. Going out of town for the
holiday?”
“Just a little R&R, sir,” Mulder said as he rose from his chair and followed Scully to
the door.
“Just be careful. I’ll see you on Monday, bright and early.”
“Happy Thanksgiving, sir,” Scully said for both of them.
They rushed over to the townhouse to change their clothes and grab their packed
suitcases. In less than an hour they were locking the door behind them and tossing
the cases in the trunk of the car.
“Mulder, will you tell me where we’re going now that we’re on the road?” Scully
asked pointedly.
He grinned at her. “The Rose. A little B and B in Elk County, Pennsylvania, my love.
And we’re in the Sungold Suite. Each suite is named after a particular rose and the
decor is in that rose’s color. From the brochure, the Sungold Suite is — ”
“Yellow,” she said with a smile and a nod.
“Very good Agent Scully. Remind me to put you in for Agent of the Year,” he teased.
“The brochure is in the glove compartment if you want to look. It also has the
directions, so keep it handy.”
She pulled the slick brochure out of the compartment and opened it on her lap. After
a few moments, she turned to him with a look of pure awe. “Mulder, how in the
world did you find this place? It overlooks the mountains, it’s absolutely gorgeous —
”
“Internet, my love. And the pictures don’t do it justice, according to the owner when
I made the reservations. He FedEx-ed the brochure down so I could see it. I did
good?”
She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “You did very good. And you will be
handsomely rewarded,” she told him with a wink.
“Oh yeah,” he sighed happily.
They arrived a little before 4:30. The sun was sinking low and had just dipped
behind the mountaintop, casting the world in shadows. The trees on the hillside and
along the drive, maple, sweet gum and oak, were ablaze with the colors of the
rainbow. Near the three-story clapboard structure was a fall garden of mums,
accented with bales of hay and pumpkins.
“Mulder, you are getting an _extra_ special reward for this,” Scully murmured as she
pressed another kiss to his cheek. He grinned like a Cheshire cat as he pulled their
suitcases from the trunk.
A little bell on the door signaled their arrival. A woman in her early 60s stepped into
the foyer, wiping her hands on a green and white striped dishtowel.
“You must be the Mulders,” she said with a warm smile. “I’m Hannah Morgan. I
believe you spoke to my husband Harold on the phone.”
“Yes, Mrs. Morgan,” Mulder said politely. “I’m Fox Mulder and this is — ”
“Dana,” Scully said, stepping forward to shake the woman’s now dry hand.
“Fox and Dana, how nice that you decided to spend Thanksgiving with us,” Hannah
said with such sincerity that Scully was touched. “Now, let’s get you registered.
Have to keep the bean counters happy,” she said with a wink.
She showed them over to an antique secretary and pulled out an equally ancient
hotel register. Scully’s eyes widened.
“Oh, this is just for show. I have a Mac Book Pro in the office,” Hannah assured her.
“But I think this old book was here when we bought the place and it’s nice to keep all
our guests names in.”
Scully quickly entered their names and their address while Mulder handed Hannah
his Visa card. She ran the card through a reader that was secreted in one of the
secretary’s many drawers and then handed the slip and the card back to him. He
signed the slip and returned the card to his wallet.
“Now, let me see if I can get Harold out of the basement long enough to help you
with your bags.”
“Oh, that’s all right, Mrs. Morgan. I have them,” Mulder assured her.
“Now Fox, please call me Hannah. We’re all family here. And if you’re sure you can
manage, I’ll show you up to your room.”
The two agents trailed after her up the curved staircase to a second floor, then up
again to the third. Hannah led them down the hallway to a door on the east side of
the house. “You’ll get the morning sun, but please feel free to pull the shades if you
want a little extra time in the morning,” she directed.
She opened the door with an old skeleton key on a metal fob, which looked like it
had once been in similar service in a hotel from decades gone by. Mulder ushered
Scully into the room first and she took a few steps then stopped in the middle of the
room.
The walls were the palest yellow, with a border near the ceiling of cream and yellow
roses trimmed in blue. The four-poster bed dominated the room, but didn’t
overcrowd it. The bedspread was satin, in a slightly darker shade of yellow. The
door for the bathroom was open and Scully spied a claw footed tub and pedestal
sink.
In the room, the dressing table was dark oak, as was the armoire that was situated
between the two double-hung windows. Sheer panels were the only window
dressing and the china blue shades were up, allowing a view of a mountaintop and
above it, the nearly full moon. When she looked down out the window she could see
the rose garden that spread out from the back of the house now frosted with
moonlight. There was a path and walkways and thanks to the mild fall, some of the
roses were still in bloom.
“It’s breathtaking,” Scully sighed. Mulder was still standing by the door, admiring his
partner more than he had noticed the room. She smiled at him.
“I did good?” he asked with obvious pride.
“You did good,” she assured him. They both startled when Hannah cleared her
throat behind them.
“Dinner’s on your own tonight, I’m making preparations for tomorrow, but town is
only 15 minutes up the road and there’s a nice little steakhouse just a few blocks in.
Just stay on the state route, you’ll come right to it. It’s called the Angus. Oh, and
they have vegetarian dishes,” she added quickly. “But tomorrow, Harold and I will
have a traditional Thanksgiving dinner for all our guests,” she beamed. “Well, I’ll let
you two get settled in. Please make yourselves at home.” She smiled at them again
and left, closing the door behind her.
“You are amazing,” Scully said, walking over to her partner and encircling his waist,
laying her hand on his chest.
“Nah, you’re just easy to please,” he teased and tipped her head up so he could kiss
her. “Are you really hungry?”
“Not for steak,” she whispered, catching his eye. She stood on tiptoe and kissed him
greedily.
“Who needs food, right?” he asked but it was entirely rhetorical for his partner’s
dainty fingers were already hard at work divesting him of his clothing.
They ended up not going out again that night and were ‘too busy’ in the morning to
bother with breakfast as well, so the next time the vacationing agents surfaced was
at noon for the Thanksgiving feast. Hannah had obviously enlisted the help of a
caterer for some of the dishes, because the breakfront in the dining room and an
additional 8-foot long table set against the windows were both groaning from the
multitude of warming trays and dishes. Harold made his appearance, cutting slices
of the 24 lb turkey and the accompanying whole ham and standing rib roast. Mulder
made the comment to his partner that he wished he had two plates, one for meat
and the other for everything else. She rolled her eyes but managed to fill her own
plate to overflowing.
There were four other couples staying at the house so with the Morgans, there were
an even dozen for dinner. Names were exchanged and Harold led the table in a non-
denominational grace before everyone grew silent except for the tinkling of silver on
china, and the occasional request to pass the bottomless gravy boat that was making
the rounds.
An hour and a half later, Mulder was half passed out in front of the 48-inch flat panel
television in the parlor, sharing a sofa with two other men who were in similar states
of near unconsciousness. Scully kicked his foot and he blearily cracked open one
eye.
“Hey,” she said, nudging him over just enough so that she could perch on the arm of
the sofa. “What quarter is it?”
“Scully, I don’t even know what game we’re watching,” he admitted, pulling her
down into his lap.
“If you’re that sleepy, why don’t we go upstairs and take a nap?” she suggested.
“Are you trying to kill me this weekend,” he nuzzled into her ear. She giggled and
hit him on the chest.
“Mulder, I meant to _sleep_,” she whispered back.
“Not a bad idea, since I didn’t seem to get much sleep last night or this morning,” he
said in a normal tone of voice that earned him another slap to the chest.
“Gentlemen, Happy Thanksgiving,” he said as he peeled himself off the sofa cushion.
There were mumbled groans that seemed to convey returned sentiments.
The nap lasted an hour and a half and there was sleeping involved. But when Mulder
awoke alone he felt the humid air and could smell the undeniable fragrance of
Scully’s favorite bubble bath. He smiled because it had been one he picked for her
and it pleased him to no end that she liked it so much.
He groaned as he tugged the satin sheets and then stumbled out of the bed. He
wandered in to the bath and smiled before letting out a jaw-cracking yawn. “Got
room in there for another?”
“Another what,” she replied with a tilt of her head. She knew exactly how it affected
him when her hair was up in a clip and the loose strands curled from the steam
rising off the bath water.
“Another turkey,” he replied, stripping quickly and waiting for her to scoot forward in
the water so that he could slip behind her. When he was settled, she leaned back
into his arms and sighed.
“I didn’t think you had it in you, Mulder,” she said happily.
“No, Scully, I think that’s the soap,” he quipped, though he had a pretty good idea
that she wasn’t talking about his recent bout of stamina.
“No,” she said seriously and turned to look at him over her shoulder. “This weekend.
We’re in this beautiful inn, we’ve eaten wonderful food, we’ve drank wine, we’ve
made love — ”
“That last part I plan on doing again — in the almost immediate future,” he
interjected.
“And in all of this — the last 24 hours, not one X file!” she finished, settling back into
his arms. “I’m proud of you, Mulder. Maybe you can teach an old dog new tricks.”
“Oh, for that, — you are going to pay, G-woman,” he growled playfully. “Pay and
pay good!”
“Bring. It. On,” she challenged and he happily complied.
Friday dawned crisp but cloudy. After a wonderful breakfast of Belgian waffles with
apple compote, Mulder found Scully in the living room by the fire, curled up with a
book.
“Hey, want to take a walk?” he asked, leaning casually against the fireplace mantel.
Scully looked out the window behind the sofa where she was sitting. She turned
back to him with a frown. “It looks cold. And seems like it might rain.”
“We can be back the minute the first drop hits,” he assured her. “And you brought a
sweater as well as your coat. We’ll bundle up.”
She laid her book beside her and crossed her arms. “Mulder, why are you so intent
on going for a walk?”
“Hey, we ate all that food yesterday. I thought it might feel good to walk some of it
off.”
“Uh huh,” she replied, not believing him for a moment. Just when it looked like she
was going to object, she picked up her book, replaced her bookmark, and then held
out her hand so he could help her up.
“We’re going?” he asked, confused.
“That’s what you want, isn’t it?” she answered. “Give me a couple of minutes to get
my boots on.”
She didn’t say a word when he ushered her out to the car. She did shoot him a look
as she buckled her seat belt, but he said nothing. After a short drive, he pulled into
a parking lot for a state conservation area.
“Mulder, how did you know this was even here?” she asked.
“Harold told me. He said there were some nice hiking trails through these woods.”
“Woods,” Scully repeated ominously. “We’re going on a walk through the woods.”
“Scully, just because we’re in a wooded area — ”
“Mulder, could we just get on with this. Because I’m pretty sure there is more to this
than a simple walk in the woods.”
Mulder tactfully avoided her eyes and led the way over to the trailhead.
The forest thickened within just a few yards and they found themselves in a stand of
oak and maple. The path was gentle for a while before they came to the first valley,
when the walking got a little more difficult. Still, the rain held off, the hills shielded
them from the wind and the forest was truly beautiful, even as the evidence of fall
colors crunched beneath their feet.
They trudged up a hillside, Scully giving Mulder a hard look when he offered her a
hand over a large fallen tree, when Mulder veered off the marked path and onto
what appeared nothing more than a deer trail. Scully’s suspicions grew with each
step. The forest was thicker here, lots of fallen branches and piles of dead leaves.
With each step she expected to step into a nest of unhappy creatures, perhaps even
snakes. She shivered and glared at Mulder’s back as he forged on blithefully
unaware.
“Mulder, you seem to have a destination,” Scully said, panting lightly as she jumped
over another fallen tree trunk.
“Harold gave me some general directions,” he replied over his shoulder. “There’s a
really pretty overlook not far from here.”
“Overlook,” she muttered as she struggled to keep up with his much longer strides.
It was another quarter of a mile when Mulder held up his hand to slow their
progress.
“This is the overlook?” Scully queried, leaning around her partner to look at the
scenery beyond.
“Sort of,” Mulder said cryptically. He looked around a moment as if trying to
triangulate his position. Suddenly, he bounded over to a tree and crowed. “Scully,
you gotta see this!”
Rolling her eyes, she made her way over to him with a minimum of jumping. “It’s a
tree, Mulder,” she said in disgust. “And there are a few million all around here.”
“Scully, look where I’m pointing,” he commanded. About 5 feet off the ground there
appeared a slash mark on the bark of the tree.
“I’m seeing it, but I don’t know what I’m looking at,” she admitted.
“Evidence, Scully. That’s evidence!” Mulder told her happily.
“Of global warming?” she shot back sarcastically.
“Of Bigfoot!” he corrected her, dancing around the tree, kicking the leaves as if
looking for more indications of recent activity.
“Mulder — you dragged me all that way — ” She stopped suddenly and glared at
him. “You brought me all the way to Pennsylvania to hunt Bigfoot?” she accused.
“Now, Scully, it’s a really nice inn and we had a great day yesterday,” he countered
hastily.
“You did! You came here to hunt Bigfoot!” she shouted, not caring that her words
were echoing off the surrounding hills.
“But Scully, I did bring you to a nice Bed and Breakfast, I did play the dutiful
significant other — ”
That got him a well-timed raised eyebrow and a glare that veritably dripped icicles.
“Not that I didn’t want to be the dutiful significant — ” The rest of his apology was
said to her back as Scully turned on her heel and stomped back down the trail.
“Scully! Scully wait a minute!”
He had to hustle to catch up with her. When he grabbed her arm, she almost broke
his wrist pushing his hand off. He stood there while she glared at him.
“Scully,” he said quietly, meekly, with as much sincerity as he could muster.
As if ordained by on high, the clouds opened up and a cold rain started to fall.
“Bigfoot,” she repeated, crossing her arms. The rain was starting to get heavy and
her hair was sticking to her face, streams of water running off her chin.
“He’s been sighted Scully. Right here, in Elk County, Pennsylvania. It just seemed
too perfect. You wanted a nice quiet hideaway for Thanksgiving and I found this
place — ”
“Mulder, did it ever occur to you to _ask_ me if I wanted to go to Pennsylvania and
hunt for Bigfoot?” she growled.
“And you’re going to stand there and tell me that you’d agree to come out here and
hunt Bigfoot on our Thanksgiving weekend?” he snorted.
“Here we are,” she countered. “Except now it’s raining cats and dogs and I’m royally
pissed at you!”
Thunder and lightning punctuated her statement.
“Scully, I know you’re pissed at me, but I think we need to find some shelter,”
Mulder shouted at the thunder continued to roll around the hilltops.
“Sure, fine, whatever,” she exclaimed, throwing up her arms. “Maybe Mrs. Bigfoot
will invite us in for Thanksgiving leftovers!”
“I think I saw some rocks off this way — maybe there’s a cave near here,” Mulder
said, deftly sidestepping his partner’s snide comment.
A bolt of lightning struck a tree not more than 100 feet away when Mulder finally
found the rocks and as luck would have it, a small cave. Taking her hand, he led
them into the damp interior.
It wasn’t much more than a ledge cave carved out of the solid rock hillside, but it
was relatively dry and out of the elements. Mulder pulled his leather jacket off his
shoulders and draped it over Scully’s back. She glared at him, but accepted the
offered jacket.
“Might as well get comfortable, we’ll probably be here a while,” Mulder said, finding
himself a nice rock to sit against.
“Bigfoot,” he heard her mutter again. “Honestly.” The rest of her mumbling was
drowned out by another clap and roll of thunder.
“Scully, it really was just a whim. It was a nice day — ”
“Mulder, it was overcast and windy,” she countered.
“And I thought it would be a — ”
“Say it and die, Mulder,” she growled. “I swear to God, if the words ‘nice trip to the
forest’ cross your lips — ”
“Scully, what’s this?” he asked, interrupting her in mid-threat.
He was holding something in his hand. In the dim light of the cave, she could only
imagine what his twelve-year-old mental self had discovered. “I don’t know, Mulder,
and I really don’t care.”
“I think . . . are those teeth marks?” he asked, levering up to his feet and coming
over to squat next to her on the other side of the cave.
“Probably. Probably bear,” she said, not looking at the small bone he held in his
hand.
“Scully, admittedly I’m not an expert here, but doesn’t that look kinda human?”
He was practically sticking it under her nose when she finally looked down at the
bone. Taking it from him to examine it more closely, she wrinkled her nose in
distaste.
“Mulder, some hunter probably used this cave before we found it. We are in a state
conservation area,” she pointed out reasonably.
“There’s no sign of a fire,” he told her.
“Guess it’s a hunter who likes steak tartar,” she shrugged and dropped the bone to
the ground.
He moved back to ‘his’ half of the cave, kicking at the soft dirt of the floor. “Scully,
there are other bones over here,” he said slowly.
“I wouldn’t doubt it. It’s a nice cave. I’m sure we aren’t the first, human or animal,
to discover it,” she replied. “I think the storm is finally moving on. We might be
able to make it back to the car,” she suggested. When he didn’t reply, she looked
over at him. “Mulder, did you hear me?”
“There are more of those slash marks we found on the tree over here,” he stated,
pointing to the cave wall.
“Mulder? The car? I’d like to get out of here before the next cloudburst,” she
prodded.
“You go ahead, I want to check this out,” he answered absently.
“Go ahead? We’re at least a mile from the parking lot,” she countered. “What are
you looking at now?”
“More bones, Scully. And this one looks sorta — ” His voice trailed off as he held up
a human skull.
“Oh my God!” Scully gasped as she walked over to examine the newest find.
“Mulder, this is an adult skull. Look, the wisdom teeth have been extracted, but
there was a break in the jaw bone to do it.”
Mulder paled at her casual observation. “I think there’re more remains here.”
“We need to get a forensics team up here immediately. There’s not telling what
we’ve stumbled on. This could even be a decades old murder.”
“You think they’re that old?” he asked, chewing his lip and looking out at the
diminishing rainfall.
“Well, without carbon testing it’s impossible to tell. But I don’t think they’re newer
than ten years.”
Mulder stepped over to the opening and pulled out his cell phone. “No service.
You’re right, Scully. We need to get back to the car.”
“Do you remember the way back?” she asked.
He stepped out of the cave and looked around. “Uh, yeah. Didn’t we . . . ” He
frowned and turned in a half circle. “Boy, it looks different without the lightning.”
Scully rolled her eyes. “OK, let’s just think a minute.” She walked a few feet from
the cave chewing on her bottom lip. “Doesn’t that tree look familiar?”
He glared at her and shook his head.
“Well, let’s do this. Are you wearing a tee shirt under your sweater?”
“Yeah,” he said warily.
“Tear off a piece so we can mark the cave. At least we’ll know which one it is in case
we get turned around.”
“Good thinking. Sure you weren’t an Indian Guide,” he grinned at her. He pulled up
his sweater and ripped a ten-inch scrap of material off his undershirt. “Glad I didn’t
wear my Knicks shirt this morning,” he said, handing her the white strip of cotton
material.
She tied it to one of the branches of the tree nearest the cave opening. “OK, which
way?” she asked, crossing her arms.
He thought about it for a good two minutes. “That way,” he said confidently.
They’d walked for fifteen minutes when Mulder held up his hand. She started to
object when he shushed her. “Look over there,” he whispered, pointing to
something off in the distance to their right.
On another rise, far enough away that it was just a glimpse, there appeared to be a
large animal. It was crouched on the ground, foraging through the leaves. Then
suddenly it stood up on two legs and ran off into the deeper woods.
Mulder grinned at his partner’s astonished stare. “Scully, that was him! That was
Bigfoot!” he whispered excitedly.
“Yeah, and he was headed in the direction of our cave,” Scully pointed out dubiously.
“You think — those bones . . . ”
“I think we better find the parking lot. And fast,” she told him, taking the lead and
picking up the pace.
They slipped and slid down the hills and scrambled up the hills and by the time they
arrived at the parking lot, both agents were covered in mud, wet to the bone and
exhausted. Mulder tried his cell phone again, this time getting service. The local
sheriff’s department requested that they stay in the area and just as he was putting
the phone away, the skies opened up again, drenching them once more.
He looked at his partner over the hood of the car. She was sopping wet, her hair
sticking to her face. But she had the same expression she wore over a decade ago
in a rain-deluged cemetery in Oregon. And he couldn’t remember her ever looking
more beautiful.
“C’mon, Scully. Let’s get in the car till the Sheriff arrives,” he said with a gentle
smile.
“If we get in the car right now, Mulder, it will cost us a fortune to have the car
detailed when we get back home,” she said, crossing her arms defiantly.
“I’ll pay it, gladly, if we can avoid hypothermia and pneumonia.” He opened the door
and waved her inside.
Once in the car, Mulder started the engine and cranked the heater up to high. The
blast of cold air made them both shiver, and Mulder pulled Scully into his arms
rubbing her shoulders until the warmth started to flow.
“Scully, I’m sorry if you think I deceived you,” he said softly in her ear.
“It’s just that sometimes I wonder if you’ll ever grow up, Mulder,” she said quietly.
“I’m not a grown up?” he asked, slightly offended.
“No, Mulder — you are the quintessential Peter Pan. Meteorites in Washington,
Bigfoot in Pennsylvania — you’re still sneaking around playing hooky. The only
problem is you aren’t skipping school — you’re skipping real life.” She turned so that
she was looking right at him. “You’re skipping our life.”
His eyes widened at her accusation. “Scully! That is so untrue,” he objected. “Look
at this weekend. I wouldn’t be here if you weren’t with me. I wanted to find
Bigfoot, I’ll be the first to admit that, but I wanted to find him with you and only
you.”
“Whether I wanted to find him or not, right?” she asked, her expression showing her
own feelings on the matter.
“I guess . . . I just assumed you’d go along with it once we were on the trail,” he
said with sudden realization. “I blew it, didn’t I?”
She took his hand, brought it to her lips and lightly kissed his knuckles. “Mulder, I
knew what I was getting into with you. You’re a work in progress. Doesn’t mean I
can’t point out your flaws from time to time. Also doesn’t mean I would be
anywhere else.”
“So you still love me?” he asked with a boyish twinkle to his eyes.
“Forever and always,” she answered, leaning over to kiss him. When she pulled
back, she wiped a smear of mud off his cheek.
He leaned forward to capture her lips when there was a loud tapping on his window.
Three hours later
Scully pulled into the parking space outside the inn and cut the engine. She turned
to her partner and then turned back to look out the windshield.
“Don’t feel bad, Scully. Anyone could have made that mistake,” Mulder assured her.
“I just would like to know what’s so impossible about the fact that we saw Bigfoot?”
“They were county cops, Scully. Lack of imagination is a job requirement.”
“But I’m a scientist, Mulder. I gave them a totally reasonable statement and they
laughed at me!”
“I know, I know,” he consoled. “Hey, let’s go upstairs and scrape all the mud off
each other and then spend the rest of the evening in that big claw footed tub?”
She looked over at him and smiled. “Just another day in our real life, huh?”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way. Would you?” he asked.
She shook her head. “C’mon Mulder. Race you to the tub.”
the end
End Note: Yahoo news had a brief report of a Bigfoot sighting in Elk County
Pennsylvania. It’s so close to DC that I couldn’t resist. Happy Turkey Day everyone!
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Turkey Trot by Vickie Moseley