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admiralty-xfd · 5 years

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the exorcism of mulder and scully

A few folks asked for a continuation of the Plus One story I posted yesterday. This may not be precisely what you’re looking for, but I’m sharing a casefic I wrote that takes place directly after Plus One and before TLAOFS. It’s M/S undercover as a married couple, lots of MSR, spooky stuff, and deals specifically with what went down between them in Plus One. I’ll post the first chapter here but please click the link at the bottom to read the entire story!

Prologue

THE EXCELSIOR KEYS HOTEL

KEY WEST, FLORIDA

AUGUST 24, 1991 7:31 PM

His eyes opened slowly and there was only blackness and terror. He was afraid. He wasn’t sure exactly why, or of what, but the terror was real, and it was familiar.

He knew he must be in the hotel. He had to be; it was the only place that could create such fear within him. Ever since he began working here a couple years ago he’d felt it.

Cal Hodges had worked at many other establishments before, but none that were most definitely haunted. He’d never believed in ghosts before he and his wife moved to the Keys, but now… he’d seen things. He couldn’t deny the way he felt; the oppressive dread that coursed through his body whenever he was inside these walls. Outside it was better: he could think properly when he tended the lawn or replanted the petunias. But whenever he got a call to replace a doorknob or fix a leaking faucet, the fear returned.

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness they darted around the room. He was lying on a bed, somewhere. His wrists were tied behind him and his feet were tied below and while he and his wife occasionally enjoyed an adventurous romp this wasn’t anything he recalled consenting to.

He could smell a faint odor of… something. It was hard to place, but somewhat familiar. Like herbs, musty and organic. He saw a silhouette approach him and a multitude of possibilities went through his mind, horrific possibilities but not one of them was what actually happened when the voice began speaking.

“From all evil, deliver us, o Lord. From all sin, from your wrath, from sudden and unprovided death, from the snares of the devil, we sinners, we beg you to hear us.”

Hodges felt water splash his face as the man drew nearer. He’d never been much of a churchgoer, but he recognized what was going on here. And he recognized the voice. His terror grew.

“Let me go!” Hodges cried. He tugged at the restraints.

“Just relax, I’m here to help you,” the voice said gently. “I’m the only one who can help you.”

“Help me with what?” Hodges asked, desperate. He hadn’t asked for help, had he? What was going on?

The man came up close to his ear.

“You got the demons,” he said. “You got ‘em in you.”

Demons?

His eyes widened in fear. Was any of this real? Is this what explained how he’d been feeling? The omnipresent shroud that seemed to cloak him every time he stepped foot inside this hotel?

The man put his hand on his shoulder, pressing him back, but he fought. Hodges pulled at his restraints, and either they weren’t very tight, or he was very lucky, but one of his wrists got free and he punched the man in the face. With a grunt, he went over the side of the bed, groaning pitifully.

The man didn’t get back up right away, as either age or weight precluded, and Hodges went to work on the other restraints. With a hand free, he made quick work of it, and was off the bed and out the door before the other man had even gotten up.

He hated this place, but he knew it like the back of his hand, and he tore through the hallways to the stairs, through the lobby and out the front door. There were no guests along the way, the hour the most likely reason.

He ran like his life depended upon it.

***

This fucking place again.

The young officer pulled his police cruiser up to the front curb of the old hotel. He’d only been on the job a few months but he was starting to learn this particular establishment was a running problem for the Key West police department. He'd definitely been called out here more times than he'd like.

The place wasn’t enormous but still had a definite sense of foreboding, and he was unnerved regardless of his skepticism when it came to ghosts and spirits. He’d moved to the Keys only recently but had already seen enough weirdness to last a lifetime.

The 911 dispatcher had informed him the caller had been a panicked woman, saying her husband had been killed, but she’d hung up before giving any more information.

He stepped out of the car and started to approach the front door when he began to hear music coming from outside the building. He changed direction, heading towards the source.

To the left of the hotel stood a small maintenance shed and he could hear what sounded like the plucking mandolin strings of R.E.M.’s “Losing My Religion,” but it was somewhat distorted. As he drew closer he could see it sounded that way because the radio from which the song emanated had been smashed on the ground.

He pulled out his flashlight and peered inside the shed. As he entered he noticed a drastic change in temperature; it was August in Florida and this tiny shed had no right to be so fucking cold. A chill went through his body, from the top of his head to the ends of his toes. And just when he thought he was imagining things he saw the very thing he’d come for.

He tore across back the lawn to his car and picked up his radio, frantically dialing.

“This is Officer Myers responding to a 911 call at the Excelsior Keys. Sir…“ his eyes darted back to the shed, then to the hotel. “Sir, we’ve got another one.”

Chapter One

SOMEWHERE ALONG I-95

11:49 AM

PRESENT DAY

The landscape of I-95 flew by in a whir, and Scully shifted a bit in the passenger seat of the rented Explorer. Everything was moving so fast, too fast, not mind-numbingly slow, which was how she’d always been accustomed to things with Mulder.

They’d deposited the second rental car back in Henrico County and climbed into Mulder’s. His insistence (and her acquiescence) that they not further pollute the planet was the only thing keeping them from driving home in separate cars and avoiding their current situation entirely. Although they were doing a fine job of that anyway, sitting together now, mere inches away from one another, not uttering a word.

Road trip, business trip, X File, whatever they wanted to call it, at least it was the two of them again, doing what they did best. Our bread and butter, Mulder had called it. It felt nice and familiar.

Only it had been quite some time since they’d done it with the smell of sex lingering in the car, stolen furtive glances at every mile marker, the air thick with the kind of tension they’d much sooner ignore than address. That was most certainly the Mulder and Scully she remembered. That was their real bread and butter.

She closed her eyes and laid back against the headrest, allowing her mind to wander to last night. And, to this morning.

And, to again this morning.

It was hard not to do, impossible really, now that sex had become something she and Mulder were apparently doing again. She should have known once it happened once, the floodgates would open and she’d want to do it again and again.

He gripped the steering wheel and stared straight ahead, his sleeves rolled up to the crooks of his elbows in that way he used to back when she first fell for him; that way that drove her absolutely crazy. His inescapable Mulder scent snaked around the car and underneath her nostrils, her body responding in all kinds of inconvenient ways. She felt like Pepé le Pew, the horniest cartoon character ever thrust upon polite society, and it was all she could do not to tell him to pull the car over right now.

The sex had been amazing; of course it was. And in the moment it felt like the right thing to do. But as they drew closer and closer to Washington D.C., towards the safe boundary of home, she felt less and less like it had been the right call.

What would happen when they stopped the car? Could they just get out and pretend everything was normal like they always did, even though they both knew it wasn’t? There were too many things between them, twenty five years of stuff, a lot of it bad stuff that they had never confronted. She didn’t blame Mulder for that, not really; she blamed herself. She hadn’t wanted to look into the darkness anymore, so she simply stopped. Even if it meant turning her back on things they needed to discuss; things like their son, things like Mulder’s depression.

Things like their fundamental inability to communicate about any of it.

Now that they’d crossed this particular line, she worried what would happen next. What if they just continued to have sex without talking? They did that the first time around, and she regretted it. So much time lost, so much unnecessary heartache, and for what? Because they couldn’t tell each other the truth; that they’d been in love with each other for years and couldn’t speak of it out of fear, or some kind of misguided obligation?

She was afraid again, but this time it wasn’t because she feared he didn’t love her. This time she was afraid because she knew he did.

“Are you hungry, Scully? Because I sure am.”

His voice came from nowhere, an assault on her senses. That voice could do things to her she never dreamed possible; could make her do things she never dreamed possible. It was a timbre he had, a specific cadence, some intonation that had the power to burrow deep inside her psyche, convincing her of almost anything. Robert Patrick Modell had nothing on Mulder.

“Yeah, I could eat,” she admitted.

He pulled off the turnpike to a roadside diner, and she felt her stomach turn in reluctant anticipation of the greasy offerings in store for her. Such an activity had been so commonplace for them over the years she felt a sensation of dejà vú come over her.

He parked the car and the silence within was deafening. She could sense his discomfort; it matched hers perfectly. He sighed loudly, then turned to her and spoke.

“Look, Scully, I know this is awkward. But you haven’t said a word to me since we checked out.”

She shifted again, unbuckling her seatbelt. Truthfully, she’d been mortified by the side-eye the motel manager had given them. They weren’t exactly quiet last night, all night, she thought with a clandestine smile. But it only further demonstrated how powerless she’d been to her urges, how uninhibited she was when she was with Mulder.

Suddenly a greasy burger sounded like the best thing in the world. Anything to get them out of this car.

“I’m sorry, I, uh-”

“It’s me, Scully.” He looked at her with raw emotion and her only thought was how much she’d missed those eyes. “Don’t let this become another thing for us that just… happened. Please.”

For some reason her memory flashed to that night in her apartment years ago when she’d given in to those same eyes, only to realize it hadn’t really been him. It was Eddie Van BlundHt who wanted her that night, not Mulder. The realization of that in the moment left her feeling betrayed and confused about her own feelings. Things settled down after that and they both knew exactly what had happened, but neither ever acknowledged it. It was just… something that happened. It was the way they always dealt with their feelings for each other. It hadn’t been enough to push them forward. It never was.

They sat in silence for a minute, and her eyes met his, earnest and inquisitive. They communicated with hers in a way that said don’t shut me out, not this time.

She wasn’t an idiot, she knew what would happen if they didn’t talk. Something that just happened was exactly what this would become. She didn’t want that either, and it surprised her that he was being so forthcoming.

“It isn’t something that just happened, Mulder,” she sighed. “That’s what I’m afraid of, to be honest.”

There it was: brutal honesty. It was refreshing.

Mulder looked taken aback, but impressed. It was as if he’d been waiting for permission to reveal a little bit, too.

“Okay, then. That’s a start.”

He looked at her for a moment and she could tell he wasn’t struggling with this the same way she was. He appeared confident, sure of what he was saying. And he didn’t want her to get away with her usual brand of silence. It was so unlike him, so new. She liked it, but she wasn’t prepared for any of this. She hadn’t planned to sleep with him, but it happened all the same.

“What are you afraid of, Scully?”

She paused, then spoke. “I’m afraid… of this tidal wave I can see in the distance, coming for me fast, and taking me out. And I’m afraid I’m not ready for it, Mulder.”

It was the most honest she’d been with him in a while. She wasn’t sure what she wanted. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to get back together with him. She didn’t know if things would be better this time around, she honestly didn’t. And she was terrified of hurting him, of breaking his heart again. But she also knew deep down that being apart from him wasn’t right, either. She felt the connection to him still, in her bones. It had never gone away.

He nodded, looking right at her, like he could see into her soul. Like he always did, no matter which particular high or low they were riding. He reached over and took her hand, which wasn’t typically a big deal for them, and especially shouldn’t feel big after what they’d done mere hours ago.

Three times.

“Okay, I get it. A wave.” He covered her hand with his other one. “Is it too much for me to ask... that you at least don’t run this time?”

She looked at him with affection, surprised by his maturity. Who was this Fox Mulder sitting next to her, pleading with her to give them a second chance? Where was he years ago, when she needed him?

She shook her head, slowly. “No, it’s not too much to ask.”

“So… let’s just regroup, okay? Can we do that?”

She nodded. “Yeah, I think that would be good.”

“What happens in the field stays in the field?” he grinned, an eyebrow rising up high.

She smiled, accepting these terms he seemed to be laying out. Maybe some rules were a good idea. “Yeah, I think that’s probably wise.”

His lips curved into the smile that was her moon, her stars, her truth; everything they’d ever searched for together. Maybe he’d always be looking for something but she’d found it in him a long time ago. She was done looking. She couldn’t help but wonder if that was their whole problem in the first place.

She found herself falling back into that smile, the way she always had. She was powerless to his effect on her, and part of her hated herself for that. She knew it was the reason she kept her distance from him all these years. But the other part of her could only respond to the effect. She was still human, after all.

“Hey, Mulder.” She put her hand on his thigh to stop him as he went for the car door.

“Yeah?”

“We’re… technically still in the field, aren’t we?”

He pulled his hand away from the door, looking intently at her. She searched his eyes and saw the desire within them; she wouldn’t have expected otherwise. But this was new territory for them as a couple, or non-couple, or whatever the fuck they were anymore. Seeking permission, sending and reading signals. They hadn’t done this in ages.

Her eyes told him what she wanted, though, and his eyes said the same, and suddenly they were entwined again, a console between them the only wall in this moment left to break down. His lips met hers with the hunger he’d recently expressed, only instead of greasy food they devoured her, again, and despite her apprehensions she let him in, again.

Inside a rental car in broad daylight wasn’t an ideal sexual scenario but her need for him had been reawakened, and just as it was before everything went to shit, she felt the same feeling, the same magnetism that drew them together from the day they entered each other’s lives. It was a truth she couldn’t deny, and certainly wouldn’t now, her tongue gliding along his bottom lip, his hands delving underneath her shirt.

She was out of her own body, like the evil twin she’d seen mere hours ago. The twin was back, thinking and doing things she knew she shouldn’t be, and it felt so real she wondered if in fact she’d given that particular paranormal possibility enough consideration.

She decided to go with it. Blaming her evil twin sounded like a great way to fuck Mulder whenever she felt like it.

He lowered the seat until it laid flat, this particular routine perfected while they’d spent all those months on the run years and years ago. It felt like another lifetime, another Mulder, another Scully. But it made her feel alive again, remembering how intense those times had been, how much they’d relied on one another. When there was literally nothing else in her life that mattered the way he did.

There wasn’t anyone in the parking lot and the car was situated around the corner of the restaurant. No one witnessed the tryst taking place just outside an establishment with a single cash register, tattered vinyl booths and a twenty year old grill. Broken down and worn out, it had seen its share of shit, but still nowhere near what Agents Mulder and Scully had been through.

Pushing his chest backwards, she unzipped his pants, inside them seeking the relief she craved. And as she felt him fill her for the fourth time in about as many hours she wanted to cry, she missed this so much.

This is fine, this is okay, she tried to convince herself as she rocked against him, her desire for him only increasing with each time they gave in. We aren’t home yet.

We aren’t home yet.

They weren’t, not even close. But she wanted to go home, she wanted to, desperately.

She threw her head back and moaned his name, a plaintive cry of yearning she’d suppressed for years, now erupting with abandon in the hollow shell of this rented SUV. He pulled her in again, whispering her own name roughly in her ear, his hands entangling in her hair, disappearing along with their inhibitions.

After she came and he came and the moment was over, she laid spent across his chest, sweat dripping everywhere. She felt an untenable sense of guilt and shame for some reason. She wished it away but it remained. Several minutes seemed to go by and they said nothing, only their breathing audible. She was keenly aware he was waiting for her to speak, so she did.

“Mulder, I-”

“It’s okay, Scully… I get it.” He held her against him and she felt his heart beating through his chest, his hand softly stroking her hair, his lips pressing a chaste kiss to her crown.

She wondered if he really did get it, if he got how much she fucking loved him, how much she wanted this to work out. How hard she’d tried when he hadn’t seemed to try at all. She wondered if he was really ready to try again. And she wondered if this was all a terrible mistake.

His phone buzzed in the cup holder and he reached down to look at it.

“Shit. We have a new case. Meeting with Skinner at 1:30.”

“Are we even going to have time to go home first?” she asked, concerned. Then again, it was their own fault they hadn’t checked out on time. Skinner wasn’t privy to their activities. He probably assumed they were back by now.

“Probably not, no thanks to you,” he grinned, giving her backside a soft slap.

She knew he was just being playful but it occurred to her all the sex that took place over the past few hours she had been the one to initiate. She suddenly felt embarrassed of how unable she was to control her own impulses around him. Sitting up on his lap, she started buttoning her shirt, looking around the parking lot for onlookers, finding none, thankfully.

“Let’s go eat, Mulder.”

“Scully, I was kidding.”

“I know,” she interjected sharply, not wanting him to have the upper hand anymore. “Let’s go eat.”

The sooner they got out of this car the sooner she could refocus on pretending nothing happened in the first place.

Thanks for reading! This one is a ride. For their meeting with Skinner and the rest of the story, click here for Chapter Two.

#txf #the x files #msr #case fic #haunted house #mulder and scully #post plus one #fanfic #fanfiction #yep there's sex I promise

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