Category: Missing Scene, UST (bordering on MSR, you be the judge)

Spoilers: Rain King

Summary: Scully & Mulder's enjoyment of a High School Reunion is Interrupted by Mulder's propensity for getting sick.

Archive: Yes

Disclaimer: Mulder, Scully, and everything related to them belong to Chris Carter and 10-13, with magic added by David and Gillian. I'm only borrowing them to finish the episode the way I think it should have been.

Reunion in a Small Town - Mary Kleinsmith

"So," Mulder said a little shyly as he studied Scully. She was watching the happy couple walk away with an approving look on her face. "As long as we're here, would you like to dance?" As her eyes widened in surprise, he blushed furiously, realizing he'd never asked her this before. Even when they'd danced at the Cher concert, it had been a silent offer, silently accepted. He didn't like to think about how it would have looked or how he'd have felt if she'd turned him down, but the same doubts were whispering in his ear now. After all, dancing wasn't exactly a part of this assignment.

He breathed a sigh of relief, though, when, rather than answering him aloud, she turned to join his hands with her own, drawing closer as she began to sway to the music. It was a Pointer Sisters ballad with the disco-era flavor that he remembered from his youth. She seemed to know it too, as she mouthed some of the lyrics here and there. The song's dramatic melody crescendoed on the word "Fire" - the songs title, and he was suddenly aware of just how close Scully was. Not that he minded . . . no, he didn't mind one bit. But with the closeness came a warmth that spread through his body and made him dearly want to remove the jacket to his suit. The attraction he felt for his partner could be subdued - even ignored - for a time, but this heat just had to be endured.

The song came to a gentle close, and he left her arms to take a chair as the next, faster song erupted from the speakers. "I Will Survive" was a song he recognized immediately. Before he knew it, she'd yanked his still-captured left hand, pulling him abruptly back into her arms. "Oh, no. You don't get out of this that easily," she laughed. The thought flashed through his mind that he hadn't heard that laugh this entire trip. He'd definitely missed it.

"But Scully, this is disco!" he muttered as she kept her hold on him.

"And you mean to tell me that you never danced to a fast song when you were in school? I was only just becoming interested in modern music when the disco era started." He looked at her face, warm and beaming and lovely, and realized she was enjoying this immensely. "Come on G-man . . . let's see what ya got!"

"Okay, but if they play "What a Fool Believes," I'm outta here!" he laughed. "This believer's no fool!"

She immediately began to spin in his arms, and he found that the few basic moves he'd managed to perfect back in high school were still somewhere in his eidetic memory. Before long, they were moving smoothly through turns and dips and spins - everything just short of John Travolta's Saturday Night Fever steps. He found he couldn't help but smile. Each breath she exhaled into his ear as they drew close and then separated again was a laugh. He didn't care that the previous warmth was now a furnace inside his body and his mind.

By the time the song ended, he was panting heavily, as was Scully, but she was obviously loving it. As the music started again, she resumed dancing, but he knew he wouldn't be able to keep up this pace. "Scully, let's sit this one out, huh? I could really use a drink."

She laughed again and responded, "okay, if you can't handle more than two in a row . . ."

Her tone and wicked grin made him wonder for a moment 'two of what?', barely picking up on the usual banter. "You don't wanna know what I can do more than twice in a row," he mumbled as he headed for a nearby table.

"Oh, really, Mulder? I didn't think there was anything you could do more than twice," she said, smiling as she followed. He plopped himself unceremoniously into a chair and worked at straightening his jacket while Scully alit in the one next to him, her cheeks a rosy red and her eyes dancing. "Somehow, I never pictured you as a disco king in high school," she said. "Where did you learn to dance like that?" She waited for his answer, looking into his eyes concernedly when he didn't seem to hear her.

"Mulder?" When his eyes met hers hazily, she laid a hand on his forearm. "Mulder?"

"Ouch!" he yiped, jerking his arm from under her hand. He cradled the arm to himself where she couldn't reach again.

"What's wrong?" she asked, realizing that she'd touched him near where the town doctor had affixed the butterfly bandages.

"I'm fine. How'd you like some punch?" he asked, trying to distract her. She was, as usual, intractable.

"Mulder, let me look at your arm."

"Scully, we're in the middle of a high school reunion here. This isn't a hospital."

"Then let's go back to the motel where I can look at it properly before I drag you to one." There was no denying Scully when she used that tone. Slowly, he climbed to his feet and let her lead him by his right arm. Hardly nobody seemed to notice them leaving.

"Why didn't you tell me it was this sore," she scolded as she unlocked the motel room door and pushed it open. Logic took the place of concern for a few moments. "Look, I don't have the equipment or pharmacological supplies here to redress that wound. You stretch out on the bed, try to relax, and I'll run to the drug store."

"Y'know, you're sexy when you flash your medical license," Mulder joked with a wan smile as he settled himself on the bed."

"Just promise to stay put until I get back."

*************************

The click of the lock catching woke him before he even realized he was asleep. Not solidly unconscious, but a light doze for a few minutes to regain his strength. He pushed himself to a sitting position as Scully laid her bag of purchases on the bed near his feet. "Sorry to have to wake you," she said as she took a seat beside his hips on the bed.

"I wasn't asleep," he lied. "Just resting my eyes."

"Yeah, right," she accepted, the tone in her voice doubtful. With a sick Mulder on her hands, she knew she'd have to choose her battles carefully. She noticed he'd managed to shed his jacket but still wore his shirt and tie. "First of all, let's get rid of this," she added as she reached up to pull on the knot at his neckline. Her fingers brushed his throat, and she felt the heat.

"Mulder, you're feverish," she remarked, moving her hands from the tie to his face and forehead, as he shrugged in response. "I should have expected as much."

"I knew it was chilly . . ."

"Chilly nothing, Mulder! Why didn't you say something?" He wasn't about to answer that one. "Let me look at that arm."

Resigned, he straightened his elbow so she could unbutton his cuff, carefully rolling up the sleeve without coming into contact with the arm itself. She didn't want to hurt him any more than necessary.

"Guess you should have insisted on bandaging it yourself, huh?" Mulder asked as she looked at the wound. The skin surrounding it was red and swollen, and there was a slight yellowish-white substance coming from the cut.

"It's infected all right," Scully said, tearing open a packet of gauze and dowsing it liberally with antiseptic. "Mulder, there's no way I can do this painlessly. Are you going to be okay?"

He laid his head back on the pillow and closed his eyes. "Go ahead, Scully. Do it," he muttered through clenched teeth. She was gentle, and it didn't hurt nearly as much as he'd feared. Before long, she was rewrapping his newly-cleaned arm as he looked on at her with grateful eyes. When she finished, he closed them once again. "I think I'm ready for some sleep." He smiled slightly as he added, "look, I know this room only has the one bed, but I promise to behave if you do."

Scully looked at him with surprise, but understood his sincere meaning. He was too tired to try anything, and she knew him well enough to know that he wouldn't even if he could. There was plenty of room there for the both of them, but first things had to come first.

"No, you don't, Mulder. Don't go to sleep just yet. You need some antibiotics."

"Just give me the pills and let's be done with it, okay?" he answered tiredly as he sat up once again. His face paled noticeably when he saw what she was holding in her hand.

"I see I don't have to tell you that there won't be any pills." She wasn't going to get any satisfaction from sticking her partner with the hypodermic needle, but he had such a little-boy face on that she couldn't help but smile slightly. "Don't worry, Mulder. It'll be over before you know it."

"Somehow, I doubt it," he grumbled as she mixed the powdered solution and filled the needle.

"Why don't you get comfortable while I'm doing this? You're surely not anticipating sleeping in your suit." She smiled as the image her mind painted faded quickly as his sleeping attire occurred to her. She knew that, when he slept, he usually did it in his undershorts, and there was nothing wrong with that at any other time. But tonight they'd be sharing the bed, and she'd be lying if she said that the thought didn't make her uncomfortable.

He solved the problem for her as he took off his dress shirt and went into the bathroom long enough to exchange the suit pants for a pair of sweats from his overnight bag. He crawled back into what he'd claimed as his side of the bed, bleary-eyed enough that he'd already forgotten about the shot. What he wanted most now was sleep; he didn't even think the nightmares would disturb him tonight.

Scully watched him getting ready to fall asleep, deciding to take advantage of the situation as much as possible. She sat beside him on the bed, noting that he'd chosen to sleep with his face turned away from where she herself would be sleeping later. "So," she said softly, conversationally. "Where did you ever learn to disco dance like that?" As she spoke, she ran her fingers gently over his forehead, and it seemed to soothe him.

"The movies," he muttered, clearly trying to keep up his end of the conversation. "After Samantha was taken, the house was just so quiet. I couldn't stand it, so I'd look for any excuse to get out of there. I thought it would get better - that Mom and Dad would come to terms and start talking to each other and to me again - but things never changed. At first I'd go to my friend's houses, but since they had bedtimes and time to spend with their own parents, I couldn't be there all the time, so I hid in my room a lot instead. When I was about 16, this discount movie house opened in town. It was cheap, and nearby enough that I could walk there."

Scully decided to interrupt, even though she wanted him to keep talking - as a distraction. "Why didn't you drive? You were sixteen years old."

"Dad wasn't about to let me take the car - hell, he hardly taught me to drive." He continued on, lost in the past, telling her how the theater would show the same movie in the evenings for several weeks, then show it at a later hour and bring in a newer movie to take its place at the earlier showing. His voice was getting drowsy as he told her how he snuck out of the house to go see Saturday Night Fever every night for three weeks. That, and his photographic memory, was certainly enough to make sure the steps were solidly embedded in his brain. From there, it was just a matter of time before his gawky sixteen-year-old body became graceful enough to complete the maneuvers without looking clumsy.

He talked about other movies he saw in those years, and how they'd helped him escape from his life for two hours at a time. As he talked, she moved the fingers from his forehead to his shoulder, then down his side, always rubbing encouragingly. When he seemed to be at his calmest and most relaxed, she allowed her hand to wander lower, stroking his ribcage and then his hip. Scully hadn't forgotten the necessary injection, and she knew this particular antibiotic was best administered where her hand soothed.

Mulder seemed oblivious to all this as he continued his narration until she slid her fingers under the waistband of his sweatpants. "Scully, what're you doing?" he asked groggily. "I thought we promised we were going to behave ourselves?"

"Just relax, Mulder," she responded softly. "I'm just gonna give you this shot, and then we can both get some sleep."

"I don't suppose there's any way I can talk you out of it, huh?"

"No, I don't think so," Scully said with a slight smile as she exposed a patch of smooth skin. She hated thinking of marring it with the needle, but her partner's health had to come first. And right now, this is what he needed. She saw him grimace out of the corner of her eye as she administered the injection and returned the waistband to its proper place. "There, all done. I'm sorry I don't have a lollipop to give you for being such a good boy."

"Very funny," he mumbled. She felt his forehead once again as he closed his eyes, then left his side to get ready for bed herself. She thanked God that she'd brought along a pair of comfortable shorts and an oversized T-shirt - she didn't want to sleep in her suit, and sleeping in the nightgown she'd brought was just plain unacceptable now. Smiling wickedly, she tried to imagine the look on Mulder's face if he'd woken up in the morning next to her in that. Nothing that hilarious had happened for a long time.

After washing her face and brushing out her hair, she emerged from the bathroom, turning off the light on her way. Even in the dark she could see the innocence that was only seen in Mulder's face when he was asleep. Sliding into the bed had to be done carefully if she didn't want to disturb him, but he was dead to the world. She settled into a comfortable position, hoping that nightmares of nearly losing her partner to falling bovines didn't plague her slumber.

*************************

Having him there by her side must have done the trick because her mind rested easy and she slept better than she had in a long time. She awoke feeling refreshed, but it wasn't until she realized that something was tickling her nose that she saw it came from a tuft of brown hair. Mulder had apparently rolled over in his sleep, and his head was now pillowed in the hollow of her throat, his arm draped across her stomach. Scully noted that his skin no longer felt feverish, and he seemed to have rested nightmare-free.

She somehow knew that she dare not let him wake up with them in this position. Her willpower was already weak where this particular man was concerned, and if his wasn't intact, she wasn't sure she would have the strength to keep her distance. But Mulder was sleeping soundly, so she basked in the comfort of his nearness for a few minutes more before making her escape to the bathroom and a hot, steamy shower.

As the door clicked behind her, a slow, gentle smile spread across Fox Mulder's face. He looked at the bathroom door fondly, cradling his still-sore arm. It may have had a rough start, and an even rougher middle, but the end of this case was definitely worth it.