TITLE:   CLEMENCY
AUTHOR:  JACQUIE LAVA & TESS
RATING:  NC-17
CATEGORY:  MSR
CLASSFICATION:  POST-FINALE
Disclaimer: Originals on the run... Clones on the run AND having
sex...

SUMMARY: On America's birthday, Mulder and Scully find a safe
place, to celebrate...
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

After days of driving, they decide enough is enough.

They badly need a break, to find a place to lie low and relax for a
bit. It seems as though the last time they slept in a real bed is
fast becoming a fade in their memories, though it's only been four
days. They've taken turns sleeping and driving. Taken turns
navigating and map reading and exit-searching, fast food ordering and
rest-stop patrol. Though their ultimate intent is to lose themselves
far north, they've mapped routes in straight lines, north and south,
east to west. Steered their dusty vehicle in circles, always worried
about being followed. Knowing that if someone wanted them badly
enough they'd be found - but cautious, all the same.

Still... day after day... it's enough. They're exhausted and grimy
and starved for food that doesn't come out of a bag or a box. They
wonder how long they'll have to live out this sort of life, before
they can find some place somewhere they can stay for a while and feel
safe.

A week here, two weeks there... like so many other little towns
they've encountered, they'd thought the last one was safe - and so
they had stopped and found a small motel that boasted kitchenette
units; paid for a month's worth of days and they'd gotten out of the
car. A week later they were back in the car and running again, when
Mulder noticed the local police nosing around, one too many times for
comfort. Twice the patrol car had pulled up behind their vehicle and
sat, for minutes on end. Maybe it was something - maybe it had been
nothing at all. But they were too paranoid to care about sorting
through their worries... they let their instincts guide them and
they'd gotten the hell out. Without their kitchenette deposit.

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

"Take the next exit, Scully." His voice is gravelly with weariness
and his head drops back onto the seat as he folds the map and lays it
aside. "Turn right and keep on going."

"What am I looking for?" She rubs at her eyes; they're blurry and
dry. In the dusk she finds the exit easily enough, and hops off the
expressway.

"A sign for 'Clemency'. Don't ask me why but somehow I feel a town
with a name like that might be safe, for awhile." He offers no
other explanation and she doesn't ask for one. She is used to his
little eccentricities and he is more than familiar with her quiet
trust. And after nine years of being together neither questions the
other, when it comes to trust and being eccentric...

They take the exit and turn right when they reach the end of it.
They drive along a narrow country road edged in thick trees and soft
green underbrush. They hear birds and crickets chirping; see a
rabbit or two dart across the road, picked up in their low beams.
When Mulder rolls down the window the evening air is hot but it
smells sweet. The road curves gently, the encroaching night is
somber but has a good feel to it.

They have been traveling long enough to listen to the way a place
sounds, judge it by smell and by sight. They know when to pass
through and when to slow down and stay a while - and although they'd
gotten spooked at their last stop, still they put great faith in the
feel of the land and the way a town may look, sitting off in the
distance.

Twenty minutes later, when they reach Clemency... it feels good.

It's a small place. The welcome sign at the town limits says 'Six-
Hundred-Three and Still Growing!' and they are halfway through the
main drag before they hit a single stoplight. It's a Wednesday night
and the streets are just about deserted; they see a lone jogger and
an elderly lady walking her dog. The small Main Street has one cafe
open and nothing else. Cafe food sounds really good to them, so they
pull over and lock up the car, link hands and go in.

Inside, the place is a little dingy, a little dark and smells of
French fries and coffee. They sit in a corner booth, side by side.
Scully rests her head on Mulder's shoulder and he sifts a gentle hand
through her hair. Beneath the table her palm rests on his thigh,
fingers making small circles. They're so tired, and it must show on
their faces, for a middle-aged waitress with impossibly black hair
styled in a towering bee-hive drops two glasses of water in front of
them, and comments, "Evening, folks - y'all look as tired as I feel!"

Her words are not meant to offend, and Mulder gives her a smile and
a nod, asking if they have a special. The waitress grins broadly,
revealing blindingly white teeth, and replies, "You bet! Chicken
fried steak with mashed potatoes and gravy. Green beans fresh from
the garden. And peach cobbler with homemade ice cream for dessert.
Y'all interested?" Her eyes are blue and they twinkle down at them;
she can see they are most definitely interested - they are just about
drooling, both of them. Mulder nods with enthusiasm and Scully gives
the waitress a huge smile of her own. With a chuckle, the waitress
bustles off, tossing over her shoulder, "It's the cobbler and ice
cream - gets 'em every time!"

Their plates come very quickly, heaped with food that smells like
heaven. Mulder and Scully dig in; eat for ten minutes solid without
uttering a word. The steak is tender and seasoned perfectly, the
potatoes are real and the gravy is brown and rich. The beans are
crisp and flavored with bacon and green onions - the cobbler is warm
and crumbly and the dollop of ice cream on top melts down into every
sweet crumb. It's wonderful.

Not until they've begun to work their way through the dessert, do
either of them talk. They never realized how starved they'd been,
even though they'd stopped on the road and grabbed some Burger King.
Scully manages about four bites of cobbler and ice cream, before
leaning back in her seat and groaning aloud, "I'm dying over here,
Mulder - but that's the best meal I think I've ever had."

He nods, still cramming in the dessert, determined to eat every bite
although his stuffed belly is bordering on pain. He quips, "You
think they'd notice or care if I unbuttoned my jeans and let my tummy
out?"

Scully laughs tiredly, retorts, "I think I'd be worried that
something other than my tummy was popping out, Mulder... and yes, I
believe it would be noticed. It's getting late; we should try to
find a place to stay."

The waitress, heading back over to clean up the plates, overhears
her and chirps in, "Y'all need a room for the night? My sister Wilma
runs the Clemency Manor; it's just a mile away, off Keane Road. Nice
place. Nothing fancy but it's clean and you get free breakfast here,
for as long as you stay. I make a mean stack of blueberry waffles!"
She hands them the check; their dinners are very inexpensive
considering the quality and quantity of the meal and the friendly
service. Mulder asks for directions to the motel, leaves a large
tip. The waitress gives them another big grin and a bigger, 'Thank
you!' - scribbles down a few directions, and as they head out the
door her voice stops them.

"Hey, folks! If you're staying in town more than overnight you may
want to know about the July Fourth Festival, over at the fairgrounds.
Lots of food, games... we got a small amusement park set up for the
kids and fireworks after dark. I'll be glad to pack you a picnic
lunch to take over; fried chicken and all the fixin's. If you want
to go just ask Wilma to give you directions and have her call me so I
can make your basket. Starts at noon!" With a wave, the friendly
woman heads into the back kitchen with their plates.

As Mulder gets behind the wheel, Scully murmurs, "Tomorrow is July
Fourth? I had completely forgotten!"

Mulder nods, "Me too, baby. We can stick around, if you want to - I
feel okay here, don't you? Something in the air..."

She nods as well, knowing exactly what he means. It smells good
here - clean. Warm - and not just because it's a hot summer night in
a country town. "I'd like to stay, I think - see some fireworks.
Eat corn on the cob and maybe ride a Ferris wheel. I'd like that."

Mulder smiles as he noses out onto the dark and quiet street. "Then
we'll stay a few days, Scully."

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

The ride to the Clemency Manor is a short one. If it weren't for
the same laughing blue eyes, they would never have guessed that their
waitress and the owner of the motel were sisters. Petite, with long
blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, Wilma accepts the cash Mulder
offers and glances down at the registration book where Scully has
signed their names.

"Number Twelve." She points toward the end of the row of motel
rooms. "My sister called ahead to let me know you were on your way."
She smiles and the resemblance between the sisters becomes more
pronounced. "Enjoy your stay and don't forget to let me know
tomorrow if you want Betty to get that picnic lunch together for
you." Wilma drops a key into Mulder's outstretched palm.

"We'll do that," he promises as he guides Scully toward the door.
She glances back over her shoulder at the motel proprietress.

"Goodnight."

"G'night. Sleep well." Wilma waves briefly before disappearing
into a small office behind the desk.

The motel room is just what their waitress had promised. Small and
clean, it is a step up from many of the places they have stayed not
only in their years together as partners in the FBI, but also since
they began their never-ending flight around the country.

"Why don't you grab the first shower," Mulder offers, "while I get
our stuff from the car." Scully nods gratefully and begins to strip
on her way to the bathroom. She leaves her grimy clothes on the
floor and makes a mental note to ask Wilma for directions to the
closest laundromat tomorrow morning. It's been days since they've
been able to do any wash and they are running perilously low on clean
clothing.

The water pressure is surprisingly strong and Scully takes a moment
to savor the pounding needles of hot water against her skin.
Tomorrow, she promises herself, she'll take the time to enjoy a
luxurious shower, but tonight she simply wants to be clean. She
unwraps a small bar of soap, lathers up a washcloth and begins the
task of scrubbing away the grime brought on by four days of non-stop
travel.

She's rinsing shampoo from her hair when the temperature in the room
suddenly drops as Mulder pushes open the bathroom door.

"Here are your things," he calls over the pounding water. She pokes
her head out from behind the shower curtain to see him setting a
small toiletry bag onto the counter.

"Thanks." Scully rubs water from her eyes and smiles in gratitude.
He nods and stifles a yawn as he backs out of the room. She had been
prepared to climb out of the shower, but the sight of the disposable
pink razor peeking out of the top of the small bag has her reaching
for it and the travel-sized can of shaving gel. Vanity. She shakes
her head ruefully. She's tired. Mulder is tired. But she knows that
shaving will help to make her feel less grubby and she so she makes
the time.

Mulder looks up from where he is lounging on the bed as she emerges
from the bathroom in a fragrant cloud of steam. "Your turn," she
says and brushes her lips across his as he pushes to his feet. He
can smell the clean scents of soap and toothpaste and beneath all of
that, he smells her unique fragrance. He pulls her close in a bone-
crushing hug that lifts her onto her tiptoes, nuzzling at her neck,
before heading off for his own shower.

Mulder is only inclined toward lingering in a shower if Scully is
with him and he makes quick work of his nightly ablutions. He sees
the can of shaving cream and runs a hand over his jaw, but decides to
wait until morning before shaving. When he returns to the bedroom he
finds Scully sitting up in bed, wearing one of the last of his clean
T-shirts and toweling her hair dry.

"So what do you think?" he asks as he settles onto the mattress next
to her. She looks up from beneath the towel.

"About what?"

"About staying here and enjoying the festivities tomorrow. You
still game?" He tugs the towel away from her and uses his fingers to
comb through her damp hair. Scully's eyes close and her head lolls
back under his gentle massage.

"Mmmm... yeah. This is a nice place." Her eyes pop open to look
around the room. "The sheets are clean and they aren't threadbare."
Her hands run over the bed linens. "I'd like to take a day or two to
regroup."

"Okay." He brushes a thumb over her cheekbone. "You tired?" His
eyes are hopeful but undemanding. It's been days since they've made
love and he is hungry for her, but the drive has been exhausting and
he feels the weariness of four days spent looking over their
shoulders. Scully nods in response to his question, but her eyes
fire with interest.

"I could be persuaded to stay up. You want to try to wait up for
Letterman?" she asks with a pert lift of her brows. Mulder grins in
response.

"I had something else in mind." His hands skim under her T-shirt to
find her breasts with unerring accuracy. Scully groans low in her
throat, enjoying the feel of his big palms cupping her flesh. Her
arms link around his neck and she pulls him into a kiss. Their
mouths mate in a tangle of wet tongues, nipping teeth and sliding
lips. They break apart and Scully's fingers curl into the towel
wrapped around Mulder's hips and she pulls it from him, urging him to
lean back against the headboard.

When she rests her forearms on his shoulders the inside of her upper
arm brushes against his cheek and he can feel the pattern of ridges
there. She can feel them, too - like five little crinkles, under her
skin. Mulder kisses the ridges and her smile is alight with love but
tinged a bit with the knowledge that she has chosen to protect
herself for five years. And she instantly reassures herself, should
they want to let nature take its natural course, a year or so down
the road... that the little contraceptives can be removed easily
enough.

Scully maneuvers more fully into his lap, hovers over him for a
moment, running her hand over his straining flesh before guiding him
to her. She lets the velvety head stroke against her, loving the way
it feels. Slippery and hot, such a contrast of textures. Steel
beneath satin, the most tender flesh, yet able to harden and lengthen
from the life's blood pumping through it. Just thinking about its
heat and power is enough for her...

On some nights, she requires a lot of time, but not tonight. She
too has missed this... has spent time over the last few days dreaming
about being with him like this. Dreamt of having time for each
other. She sinks down onto him, over him - envelops him.

Their lovemaking is never the same. Sometimes greedy; sometimes
playful. At times desperate. Tonight it is languid. Their pace is
slow; their hands exploring; their kisses lazy as she rises and falls
over him. And their release, when it comes, is like the popping of
an ever-expanding bubble before they collapse into each other's
embrace.

With one last kiss, he slips out from beneath her and ambles into
the bathroom, returning with a small hand towel and with tender
ministrations gently wipes them both. He slides back under the covers
and snaps off the lamp, sighing in satisfaction when Scully snuggles
up against the solid warmth of his back. Enjoying the contrast of
the artificially cold room and the heat of their bodies, they murmur
soft sounds of love to each other and slide into sleep.

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

The next morning, she lets him sleep and makes good on the promise
she made to herself the prior evening by indulging in a long,
luxurious shower. She winds a bath towel around herself and creeps
back into the bedroom to dig through their bags for a clean change of
clothes. She pulls on her underwear and tugs a red tank top over her
head.

"Mulder." She sits on the edge of the mattress and curls her hand
over one strong shoulder, giving him a little shake. "Mulder, it's
time to get up." She shakes him a little harder and he rolls toward
her with a sleepy groan.

"Time izzit?" His voice is muffled as he rubs his unshaven cheek
over the smooth skin of her thigh. Her fingers comb gently through
his hair as she glances down at her watch.

"Almost eight o'clock." She gives his hair a gentle tug and he
opens his eyes to peer at her blearily.

"Eight o'clock?" He stretches his arms over his head and yawns
mightily. He's torn between wanting to sleep more and the enticement
of blueberry waffles at the cafe.

"Mulder." Her voice has taken on a mock sternness and he flinches
as droplets of cold water fall from her wet hair onto his chest.
"Are you getting up or do I have to eat breakfast alone?"

"I'm up... I'm up," he grumbles and sits up in bed. "I just need a
quick shower and shave and I'll be right with you." She stops him
and curves her hand over his jaw.

"Don't shave," she instructs him. Her eyes are bright with unspoken
promises and he nods into her soft palm. She smiles in satisfaction
and lets him rise from the bed, settling back on her elbows to watch
him walk, nude, toward the bathroom.

When he returns to the bedroom, he finds her sitting in one of the
chairs near the window, lacing up her sneakers; he can't help but
smile.

"My... you're very patriotic," he intones softly. Scully stands and
self-consciously smoothes her hands over her hips. She's paired the
red tank with light blue denim shorts, white socks and white canvas
sneakers. Her red hair is caught back into a ponytail and she looks
at him worriedly.

"Do I look ridiculous?"

Mulder walks across the room and hooks his fingers in the front
pockets of her shorts, yanking her up against his chest.

"You look like a sexy, young co-ed," he tells her and noses her neck
wolfishly. Scully tips her head back and rolls her eyes at his
antics. She pulls away to gaze up at him, enjoying the scruffy look
of his unshaven face and still-sleepy eyes. She stretches up onto
her toes to press her cheek against his bristled jaw like a contented
cat.

"Scully," he whispers into her ear in a low, sexy voice that never
fails to send a spear-point of pleasure through her. She tightens
her arms around his neck and leans her head against his shoulder.

"What?" She eyes the rumpled sheets of the bed speculatively and
briefly wonders if they had hung out the 'Do Not Disturb' sign last
night.

"I'm starving." As if he's planned it, his stomach rumbles noisily.
"Let's get something to eat and see what the good folk of Clemency
have planned for the day." His smile promises that he'll make it
worth her wait and Scully allows him to lead her from the room.

Maybe she can persuade him to come back for an afternoon nap...

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

From their seat near the window of the cafe they are able to watch
the parade marching down Main Street. Two fire trucks rumble down
the center of the street followed by an open-topped convertible
carrying the Homecoming Queen in her last official appearance of the
year before a new queen is crowned in the fall. The high school
marching band plays 'Stars and Stripes Forever' and the cheerleaders
dance and kick and shake red, white and blue pom-poms in the air.
Kids trundle by, some on decorated bikes and others straggling down
the streets in their Girl Scout and Boy Scout uniforms. The crowd
waves tiny American flags in the air and cheers as a group of
Revolutionary War re-enactors march by. The sun is blazing and
despite the early hour, the day is already warming up; the men in
their heavy uniforms and women in their long dresses and petticoats
look to be wilting in the heat.

Mulder makes quick work of a stack of blueberry waffles and coffee
and Scully nibbles on a toasted bagel with cream cheese and jelly
while watching the parade through the window.

"Aren't you hungry, honey?" Betty looks down with disapproval at the
barely eaten bagel. Scully glances up with a guilty start and lifts
the bagel from the plate.

"I'm saving room for lunch," she says with a glance at the heavy
picnic basket resting on the end of the counter across the room.
Betty critically eyes her petite frame and thin, but strong arms.

"You make sure she eats," she admonishes Mulder who looks back up
with his most innocent and most engaging grin.

"Yes, ma'am!" He polishes off the last of his waffles with a
flourish and downs the rest of his coffee. He looks across the table.
"You ready?" he asks, digging his wallet out of his pocket. Scully
nods and drains orange juice from her glass. She picks up half of
the bagel and licks cream cheese from her thumb.

"I'm going to take this to go," she promises the waitress and earns
a satisfied smile from the older woman. Mulder places several bills
onto the counter to cover the cost of their picnic lunch and slides a
pair of dark sunglasses onto his face. He grabs the picnic hamper
with one hand and Scully's fingers with the other, leading her into
the sunshine and heat of the holiday morning.

Scully squints in the bright sun and unhooks her sunglasses from the
scooped neck of her tank, slipping them onto her nose. She looks up
and sees her image reflected back at her from the dark lenses of his
glasses.

"Where to?"

His grin is wide in the bright morning sunshine. "Where the action
is, baby..."

They liberate a blanket from the trunk of their car and follow the
crowds toward the fairgrounds. The amusement rides are silent and
still but they hear a woman reassuring her children that they will be
able to ride all of the attractions in the afternoon.

Scully points toward an old oak tree and they shake out their
blanket and set down the hamper in the shade of its large,
overhanging branches. Mulder cracks open the lid of the hamper and
they inspect the contents. Large ice packs line the thermal hamper,
keeping the plastic containers of food cool. They throw part of the
blanket over the hamper to further assure its refrigerating
capabilities, and jump into Clemency's festivities.

Hand-in-hand, they wander the fairgrounds. The people of Clemency
are friendly, nodding and smiling at them throughout the day, but
Mulder and Scully are aware of being outsiders looking in. It's what
they've known for most of the last nine years and they have become
comfortable and familiar with the feeling. They browse through the
tables of the flea market where Mulder spends several minutes
flipping through stacks of baseball cards, before they wander off to
inspect the display at another table.

Scully buys a lemon sno-cone and slurps on the icy, sticky treat
while Mulder mockingly scolds that she had better have an appetite
for lunch. They settle into hard plastic chairs near the bandstand
and listen to the sounds of Sousa and Berlin, Goodman and Miller.

Mulder tries his hand at one of the carnival games and blows five
dollars before winning a small stuffed bear that he gallantly hands
to Scully. Her fingers wistfully ruffle the bear's soft fur and he
tips her face up to his and kisses the melancholy from her lips,
knowing she's thinking of another small bear, and its tiny owner.
The kiss brings a smile to her face and Scully sighs, then grasps his
hand and tugs, indicating her readiness to move on.

The amusement rides are spinning and twirling crazily by the time
they decide to head back to their blanket. They stop at one of the
food vendors and buy ears of corn soaking in butter, carrying them
in small cardboard boats toward the oak tree. Scully opens the
picnic hamper and begins to set out the various plastic containers
and Mulder pulls off lids, sighing with pleasure at the spread of
food before them. They feast on fried chicken and deviled eggs; moan
with delight over the creamy potato salad and mop their faces with
paper napkins when the melting butter dripping from the sweet ears of
corn runs over their chins. They wash it all down with tart lemonade
directly from a thermos, deciding to save the two generous slices of
apple pie for later.

They flop back onto the soft blanket and Mulder traces one finger
over her nose and cheeks, smiling at the smattering of freckles that
have popped out over the course of the day spent in the sun. He asks
if she wants to ride the Ferris wheel with him and she tells him that
she would - but later. They curl up on the blanket and a cooling
breeze stirs the leaves of the oak tree as they take a late afternoon
nap.

They awaken a short while later to find the slanting rays of the sun
have shifted yet again. The fairgrounds are even busier as the
crowds gather hours in advance of the fireworks scheduled for later
that evening. Several families have set up camp around their blanket
and Mulder and Scully exchange pleasantries with them. They look up
and shade their eyes when a shadow falls over their blanket.

"We have an annual Fourth of July ballgame," a man about Mulder's
age says. "And we lost our right fielder last week." The man tugs
off his ball cap and scrapes his hair back from his forehead before
settling the cap back into place. "You play?"

Mulder nods slowly and looks down at Scully who smiles
encouragingly. He climbs to his feet and the two men introduce
themselves and amble across the fairgrounds toward the baseball
diamond.

"I'm Susan." Scully looks away from Mulder's retreating form to
squint up at the woman standing near the edge of the blanket.
"That's my husband, John," she said with a nod toward the man leading
Mulder toward the baseball field.

Scully rises. "I'm Katherine." She offers her hand to the other
woman who appears to be about three or four years older than she.
"And that's Wi-William." Her voice breaks slightly and she stumbles
over the name before she quickly recovers.

Susan smiles. "I'm going over to watch the game... wanna join me?"
The two women find a shady spot near the fence along the baseline and
settle down to watch the game. They make small talk but Susan senses
Scully's reticence and doesn't probe too deeply into personal
matters. She had spent part of the afternoon watching this couple as
they moved about the fairgrounds and ate their lunch. There is
something about them that drew her eyes back to them time and again
but she can't quite put her finger on what that 'something' is. They
are devoted to one another and seem to be enjoying the festival, but
they have a quiet reserve, a... weariness... that sets them apart
from everyone else.

Scully sees Susan's eyes drift over her ringless hands. The other
woman's eyes are curious as she looks toward right field where Mulder
is punching his fist into a borrowed fielder's glove, though she
doesn't ask the obvious question.

But the answer is that they aren't married. They had toyed with the
idea of buying wedding bands as part of their cover story, but
decided that until they were able to marry using their own names,
they wouldn't marry at all, not even in pretense. It doesn't matter.
No ceremony - religious or civil - would bind them more closely
together than they already are.

The game goes quickly. Mulder doesn't hit a home run, but he does
get onto base twice, scoring one run and driving in another. Scully
feels a surge of pride and a low curl of lust in her belly when she
watches Mulder gracefully run toward the back fence and snatch the
ball from the air before it can leave the perimeter of the field. He
lopes infield when the inning draws to an end and tosses a grin her
way; she can't help but smile and wave back.

When the game ends, Mulder slings one arm over Scully's shoulder and
calls out quiet but good-natured remarks and farewells to the rest of
the players before leading her off in search of more food.

"You can't possibly be hungry," she protests and rubs a hand over
her still-full stomach.

"I just want a little something," he tells her as he buys a hot dog
and wolfs it down in three big bites. "Baseball makes me hungry."

The sky is still bright, but the shadows are lengthening as they
make their way toward the carnival rides.

Most small town carnivals have a blend of kiddie and adult rides,
and this one is no different. Thick sawdust covers the ground where
they walk, coating Scully's sneakers. They get in line for the 'Tilt-
o-Whirl' and Scully murmurs, "I hope my stomach is up to the task,
Mulder - as I remember this ride used to do me in, when I was
younger." She leans back against Mulder's shoulder and watches the
garishly colored cars filled with shrieking children and their
parents, roiling around the noisy metal rail.

Mulder nuzzles at her cheek and deadpans, "You mean 'Cast-Iron-Tummy
Scully' gets oogie on a simple little ride like this? The same
Scully who can autopsy a cadaver with one hand and scarf down pizza
with the other?" His arms pull her closer for a quick hug, then as
the ride comes to a stuttering stop he releases her and they shuffle
forward toward an empty car.

Scully grins up at him as they climb in and pull the safety bar over
their laps. "Yes, Mulder. It's a completely different sensation. I
promise you that if I tried an autopsy while riding the 'Tilt-o-
Whirl', I'd get... oogie."

As the carny throws the crank and the ride begins to move and spin,
Mulder retorts, "Well, I for one will never ask you to, baby..."

Her teasingly grateful, "Thank you SO much," gets lost in the
screech of metal and the even louder screaming of the riders as they
are flung about.

In quick succession, they hit 'The Scrambler', the 'Wild Mouse' and
the 'Gravitron', saving the huge Ferris wheel for last. By the time
they get themselves settled in their seat and lock the bar in place,
Mulder is fighting queasiness and Scully is decidedly green around
the gills... but there is no way they'd stop, not now. A magical
thing has happened to them while they've been torturing their poor,
still-full stomachs - they have forgotten all of their imminent
worries and anxieties, their melancholy. They have forgotten they
were exhausted. Instead, they have found themselves slipping
backwards, reclaiming a touch of their pasts - when they were more
carefree.

In the wind created by the Ferris wheel's spinning on its well-oiled
axis, Scully's hair whips across her face, wispy curls torn free of
her ponytail. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes sparkle as she
laughs aloud - and Mulder knows he has to stare and stare at her,
soak in this moment - save it for later, when the magic is only a
memory and they are on their way again. He keeps his arms tightly
around her and when she turns to him in mid-laugh he kisses her open
mouth, drinking in the laugh, the happiness. As the wheel comes to a
gliding halt and they are caught at the very top, Mulder kisses the
woman he loves and thinks to himself that there just can't be a
better feeling in the world than flying and kissing at the same
time...

By the time they exit the rides it is almost dark enough for the
fireworks to begin. Linking hands, they make their way back to their
blanket and settle in, lying on their backs side by side. It's a
clear, starry night; as they look up into the inky sky the carnival
lights are cut all at once, and the first rocket is shot off...
spirals up, and up... and fizzles out in a sputter of yellow sparks
and an ear-pounding boom. Mulder laughs aloud.

"Just like every other fireworks show of my youth, Scully - the
first one is always a dud!"

But the second one, and third... they are spectacular. A blue
starburst surrounded by red and white spinners. A series of bright
green shooters that crackle and spit orange streamers. The night
turns into a kaleidoscope of artificial light and dazzling color,
reflected in the upturned faces of everyone who watches and gasps
with wonder, 'ooos' and 'ahhhs' with delight.

Could anything be better than a show of fireworks to cap off a day
of patriotic celebration? Mulder doesn't think so. And though he
hates the corruption that he has seen within the government, though
that very same government has become responsible for his and Scully's
fugitive-like state and cruel separation from their son... still it's
times like this he feels his heart swell with the same pride as every
other bonafide American Child.

Under cover of the rainbow sky and thunderous rocket-pops, Mulder
and Scully cuddle together on an old blanket right out in the open in
a little town called Clemency - bellies stuffed full of picnic
goodies and the promise of a long night of more intimate celebration
awaiting them, later in the clear and starry night.

For now, life is good.

The show is over, and it's time to leave. They still have two
pieces of apple pie and half a thermos of lemonade; it'll make a
great midnight snack. They fold up the blanket, collect empty
containers and repack the hamper. They take their time walking back
to their car; lock the hamper in the trunk; spend a few minutes
necking, out in the hot summer night pressed up against the car
door.

Mulder runs an eager tongue across Scully's bottom lip; delves
inside for a sweet taste, slides it over her cheek, heading straight
for her small ear, whispering an outrageous, "Hey, baby... I got a
great idea. How's about you come back to my motel room? I'll let
you yank my doodle... Dana-dy..."

Her laughter rings out richly, contrasting with her droll, "You are
such an idiot, Mulder... I think I'm going to have to hold you to
that proposition."

His retort makes her laugh out loud, again. "Hold me? Oh, baby -
God, I hope so..."

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

In the distance, echoing through the still night, are the sounds of
firecrackers and cherry bombs. In the darkness outside, flashes of
sparklers arc in zigzags and circles, held by children and supervised
no doubt by watchful parents. The smell of late barbecue is tangy in
the moist summer air that wafts through the open window of their room.

But the firecrackers are not as loud as the pounding of their
hearts, beating within their chests. The sparklers shimmering in the
dark are not as bright as the glow within two pairs of eyes that
stare intently into each other's, as their bodies prepare to merge
into one - and the tang and flavor of their kisses far outdistance
any other taste, however tempting.

It's been a magical day for them. They've been able to set aside
their current standard of life, and embrace a respite, of sorts - a
break from what they know constitutes their future. Of course, they
have accepted their lot, thankful to be nothing more than alive, and
with each other. However... sometimes, they will want more - need
more. And sometimes, like today - they'll find it.

The room is overly warm; they turned the air conditioner off because
they wanted the windows open, wanted to feel the air, smell it. On
the bed, Scully reclines against a mound of pillows, her eyes
intently watching the way Mulder loves her; the measure of it, the
depth. She knows he'll give of himself, for as long as she wishes to
take - and she knows when it's her turn to let him take, he won't
know what hit him.

The thought makes her chuckle softly... Mulder lifts his head from
her trembling body, tosses a smolderingly quizzical look her way.

"What... does it tickle?"

She shakes her head and reaches out a hand to smooth through his
mussed hair. "No. It feels wonderful. I was just thinking about
all the things I want to do... to you." Her eyes are glowing in the
dimness of their bedroom, and she swears she can feel his gaze grow
hotter. He slips his hands underneath her hips and lifts her, opens
her - lowers his mouth and drinks her in. She tastes sweet, yet
tangy - a little smoky. Addictive as hell - and he wants more. Much
more.

They have nights like this, when they can lose themselves in the
wonder of the love they make between them. Mulder adores the way she
quakes against his tongue, the shivers she can't control; the small
sounds of satisfaction she can't hold in. He could care less right
now, if he finds release - for he so loves the way she finds hers -
and the knowing that he got her there. He loves that.

Her feet press against his sides, toes curling; her hands clutch at
his head. Her broken moans fill the bedroom and blend in with the
popping bursts of firecrackers outside their room. Mulder pushes it,
taking her higher; tongue and teeth and lips fully engaged. Inside,
all around, sweet outer lips and hard little clit; so, so good. His
fingers press and rub into her cheeks, caress the tight space between
them - she gasps and shudders and her hips buck into his mouth. Her
fingers pull at his hair; to Mulder it's better than any fireworks
show. He raises his head just a little, wanting to see her eyes, see
the sparklers there... pushing it again when a sharp little nip of
his teeth takes her over, makes her cry out - makes her come. She
locks eyes with his, as she comes...

Sparklers. Blue ones, in her eyes. God...

With damp hands she urges him up, pulls him over her still-quaking
body. Up further, until his knees rest on either side of her
shoulders, until she can reach him. When she looks up she sees that
lovely hard flesh, waiting for her, all for her... she sees the dark
flush in his face, the dilated eyes, the need written all over him.
She curves her palms along the backs of his thighs, rises up a
little, until her lips can probe him, open against him - take him
inside. Just a little, for she knows he likes the teasing, the tiny
increments of greed she can display; an inch at a time, little biting
ones. Nibble, then a lick - one hand now palming his tight balls,
the other slipping over and around, finding all the right areas to
touch and press.

Her tongue is ravenous and her desire, to make him burst, stronger
than ever. It's been the best day, for both of them - and so far
he's more than made her night. It's her turn...

Deep, then deeper - her mouth is relentless. Her hands knead him,
harder in the places she has learned he likes the most. Her tongue
knows where to lick, to curl - her throat relaxes and lets him slip
further. A groan builds in his heaving chest and erupts through his
open mouth as he presses both palms against the headboard and leans
down into her. He fights against moving, against thrusting into her
mouth; at this angle he could easily choke her. And truly, it feels
so goddamn good... he doesn't need to move. He only needs her mouth,
her hands. Her love... most of all he needs that.

More licks, more nibbles, a swirling tongue, and then several hard
flicks against the sensitive head - it's perfect. It's more than he
can take, it's not enough and yet if he doesn't stop now he won't be
able to stop, not at all... And when he tries to pull away she won't
let him. He can feel the vibration of the growl she emits. Her
mouth tightens around him, her hands press on his balls - he gasps
out a warning, "Scul - I can't - wanna be in you, baby..." He is
shuddering and his entire body clenches when her muffled reply
reaches his ears.

"You are in me, right in me, love it, I love this, love you..."

How can he argue with logic like that? He can't. He doesn't try.
There's always tomorrow morning, to awaken slowly and sweetly, share
kisses - find himself deep within her. For now, this is so perfect...

When she feels him stiffen, muscles tightening, she lets her teeth
graze him, loving the way he finally lets go and thrusts against her,
the way he throws back his head. The way his groans leave her in no
doubt as to the strength of his feelings, for her. One last time, she
takes him deep - and that's all he needs.

He comes apart in her mouth, a hot explosion that fills her and
completes her, because it belongs to Mulder, is part of him. She
loves the taste of him, the wet of him - the life of him, there in
her throat. She holds him tightly, laves him thoroughly, and
prolongs it for him, as long as he wants it.

Seconds later his head is on the pillow next to hers and the kiss
they share is so tender. Their hands cup, caress, adore - their
breathing evens out as their bodies calm. Their sleepy eyes remain
locked; hers still glowing blue and his still passion-dark. The
words they whisper in the aftermath are soft with the wonder they
always feel, each time they make love. Each time their luck holds,
and they see each other through another day. The love they express
to each other arrows right into their hearts, lodges there... keeps
them safe.

The room is too warm but neither of them wants to get up and close
the window, turn on the air conditioner. They don't want to let go.
They can live with a bit of sticky skin - Mulder whispers this to her
and Scully laughs sleepily.

"Sooner or later one of us will have to let go, and get up, Mulder.
You know, maybe use the bathroom -"

His equally drowsy voice is decisive. "Nope. If I go I'm taking
you with me. You can help me aim." Her giggles vibrate against his
chest and he joins her for a moment, then yawns in her face. And she
knows it's love because she doesn't mind at all; in fact she returns
the favor.

Scully can feel herself going fast; she manages a groggy, "Blueberry
waffles, tomorrow? My treat." Her body snuggles in closer and she
slips a leg between his, presses her dampness against his satiated
flesh. It feels good.

Mulder sighs and strokes his lips over hers, a sleepy-sweet bedtime
taste; mumbles against her, "Only if you let me buy you dinner and
seduce you, later."

Her sigh warms his tongue. "Deal. God, I'm so easy..."

He'd reply, but he's already fallen asleep - and seconds later, so
has she. There's always tomorrow though, to make good on their
promises. Breakfast, and then dinner. Another evening, maybe two.
One day at a time, one town closer to ultimate safety.

Yet it feels good, here. They'll stay, a few days...

Little by little, the July Fourth celebration in Clemency drops off,
as its citizens retire for the night, and prepare for a new day.


End