Title: Are You Going To Eat That? (1/1) Author: RocketMan >lebontrager@iname.com< Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully belong to CC, 1013, and Fox. No fringe is intended. NOTES::::Okay, so I'm not sure yet what this will be because I just thought of this title and I think it's strange, and I want to see if I can pull it off. ~~~~ Are You Going To Eat That? ~~~~ The GAP commercial faded to black and Mulder sighed. "Yes, I'm sure that's the lone burning question behind all of humanity." Scully raised an eyebrow. "Huh?" "Mm, graceful, Scul." She rolled her eyes. "Stop that." "What? Saying Scul?" "Yes." She gave him a withering glance. "What's the burning question?" "As GAP succintly put it, "What are you doing New Year's Eve." She grimaced. "Mulder, don't sing." He shrugged then huffed at another commercial, making her move away from him. "What's wrong now?" "He's a disgrace to all men everywhere. Look at that, suckered right-" She grabbed the remote and changed the channel, quickly. "Celebrity DeathMatch," he said, yanking the remote back from her hands. Groaning, she sank back into the bed, the television casting flickering rays over her body. "Hey, you're the one who wanted to come in my motel room and watch television with me." She covered her face with a pillow. "I don't know why," she said, words muffled. He grinned to himself and watched as Celine Dion kicked the butt off Keith Flint from Prodigy. He let his finger trail over her pillow, then pressed down hard where he thought her nose and mouth would be. She thrashed and pushed away, then glared at him, red hair sticking up and eyes tightly narrowed. "Mulder." His eyes strayed to the television. She followed his glance. "Agh! Celine Dion is an alien!" he screamed, watching as the singer's head fell back and a huge green and purple head hissed out. Scully snatched the remote again and flipped quickly. He sat there, stunned. "Scully, she's an alien. Ha ha ha. They made her an alien." "It's not funny, Mulder. I like Celine Dion." "They made her fight that guy from- eew, what *is* this?" She grinned. "Nature channel." "Eew. Scully. Come on. I really don't need to see the mating habits of peacocks. Especially when I'm not getting any." She rolled her eyes and flipped channels, mumbling something under her breath like "I wonder why." He rolled closer to her, eyebrows raised, deadly handsome look in place. So he thought. "Unless, of course, you'd like to relieve that problem right now." She rolled her eyes. "Oh brother." "Scul? You okay? Having seizures or something?" "What?" "I don't know, your eyes keep rolling back in your head." She stood suddenly, making the bed shake. "I'm going to get something from the deli around the corner. Want anything?" "Nah." She left him to watch the end of Celebrity DeathMatch. ~~~~ He stared at her food. "Are you really going to *eat* that?" he asked, grimacing. She enjoyed grossing him out. "Mm-hm. It's good. Try it." "No way in hell." She shrugged and lifted her fork, ready to taste the tofu and pasta concoction she'd found at the deli. Suddenly it was batted away from her, the fork flying to the motel wall and sticking there. She was too stunned to say anything. "I thought I saw it move." She just sat there, mouth hung open. Blinked. Reached for his forehead. "Mm, no fever." He grinned and took her hand, kissing her palm. That didn't help things. She stood, carefully pried the fork from the wall, then tossed it in the trash. Grabbing another fork from a little collection in her purse she had started about two years ago, Scully sat down to eat again. She glanced to Mulder, watching him. Raised her fork, opened her mouth- and her food was now on the wall again. "Mulder!" "Scully!" he yelled back. She opened her mouth to scream, to yell, to tell him to just sleep it off, whatever *it* was, and he got there first. His lips, on hers, molding, forming, tasting the tang of the tiny bit of pasta sauce. She pushed him away. "What the hell?" "Come on, Scully." She stared at him. "You're nuts." He shook his head. "You're good." "Mulder, seriously, stop scaring me." His eyebrow raised. "I scare you?" "Yes. No. No." "I at least make you indecisive. So maybe some more?" "Of wha-" And there were his lips again, fastened to hers like he'd lose her or something. She stood, trying to move away, to gain some kind of leverage. He broke it on his own. "What'd you kiss me for?" he said, scowling. She began the staring thing again, mouth open, eyes so confused she didn't know if she was even really there. "Uh. What?" "What'd you kiss me for?" "Uh. . .Mulder. . ." "Sheesh, warn me next time." "Mulder, *you* kissed *me*." He began to laugh. "Right. Now you're delusional. Are you sure you're okay?" She shook her head, closed her eyes, thinking "there's no place like home, no place like home." ~~~~ "Scully? Scully? Wake up, sleepyhead. Movie's over." She opened her eyes, glanced over at him lying there in sweat pants and a T-shirt. She must have been dreaming. "Mulder?" "I think you had some pretty strange dreams." She nodded. "Think so." "You said something along the lines of "Celine Dion is an alien" and then-" He stopped, glanced at her. "Then, well. . .never mind." She nodded, sat up, feeling the slight give of the motel mattress. She glanced at the table, saw a carton of tofu there. Her head spun, she whipped around to look at him. He was channel surfing. She glanced once more to the tofu, sniffed it, lifted the fork. From behind her, a voice: "Are you really going to *eat* that?" She ran out of the room. ~~~~ end adios RM GAP belongs to GAP. Uh, Celebrity DeathMatch really happened. It's claymation I believe and on MTV, one of the funniest things I've ever seen. Tonight it was Gillian Anderson and David Duchovny tag teaming against Will Smith and Tommy Lee Jones, X-People against Men In Black. And you know who won??? GA and DD. And they saw an alien at the end, which GA said was sunspots and a weather balloon, and DD saw some tongue. (Smooch).