1It had been alternating between drizzling and pouring since they'd gotten here—two autopsies, one leaky motel roof, and innumerable cups of stale coffee—ago. The fluorescent bulb overhead flickered as Scully tugged her damp coat around her shoulders once more, trying to focus on the crime scene photos spread out in front of her on the table but unable to concentrate on much beyond how cold she felt, as though her bone marrow was slowly crystallizing like frost on a window pane.
The click of the door handle turning made her sit up straighter, rubbing wearily at her eyes.
"Hey, Scully. How are things here?" Mulder entered, clutching two Styrofoam coffee cups and looking as tired as she felt. They'd taken this case on the heels of a previous one, not even having time to stop in D.C. in between, and she was more than ready to go home.
She took the offered coffee gratefully, enjoying the warmth more than the taste. "I think I've made some progress. Look."
Sliding pictures from the bedrooms of the two crime scenes next to each other, she pointed at a distinctive blue figurine, a soldier at attention, on the side table in one and on the dresser in the other. "Same figurine in both houses. Might just be a coincidence, or maybe there's some meaning that we're missing. Deputy Warrens didn't know anything about it… could be associated with a club or some other sort of affiliation."
With a shiver, she clutched her coffee more tightly, cupping it in her hands as she sipped. "The toxicology results should be back in the morning on the second body, so we'll see if the drug profile matches the first as well. How did your interviews go?"
"Not bad. I think we should go together to interview Doctor Stevens first thing in the morning though. There's something not quite right about him that I can't put my finger on, and I want to see if he raises your hackles as well."
She leaned back in her chair and raised an eyebrow. "My hackles?"
"Yeah. You know…" He positioned his hand with his fingers outstretched behind his neck, mimicking fur standing on end. He raised his lip in a mock snarl. "These things that subconsciously warn us of danger."
Scully shook her head with a gentle smile. "Well, currently my hackles are freezing and I'm ready for food and a bed and for this rain to stop."
"I'm ready to head out if you are. Not much more we can do here tonight."
Scully put her coffee cup down on the table as she stood up and began to gather up the photographs. "You don't need to ask me twice."
They'd driven for roughly ten minutes, with the heat in the car mercifully cranked up as high as it could go, when Mulder abruptly gestured out the window at some large trucks parked in a field on the edge of town that were being unloaded in the current deluge of water bucketing from the sky. "See? It could be worse. We could be those guys."
The trucks were emblazoned with the words 'Amazing Al's Carnival of Wonders' in splashes of fading purple and red paint. Burly men, their hair plastered to their faces, their clothes clinging, struggled with tarps that were being whipped to and fro in the wind.
Lolling her head to the side, Scully gazed in the direction he was pointing. "Can't imagine this is going to be a great weekend for a carnival, with the weather like this."
Mulder shrugged, turning his eyes back to the road as the windshield wipers continued at a frantic pace. "It could still clear up. You know what they say: Every storm has to run out of rain." He ignored her snort of disbelief and continued, "When was the last time you went to a carnival?"
She hummed in thought. "A long time. I think I was sixteen. Jimmy Rogers tried to get me to make out with him because he had a stash of beer in a cooler behind the bumper cars."
"Did it work?"
"Maybe." She gave him a coy half-smile at the raised eyebrow he gave her. "What? You seem surprised."
"I don't know. I find it hard to picture you as a rebellious teenager, I guess."
"Why?"
Amused, she couldn't resist probing, although she could tell he was starting to worry that he was digging himself into a hole he wouldn't be able to climb out of unharmed.
"Well… you generally prefer to follow the rules. You like to be in control. You were clearly focused and studious in school based on your level of education and choice of career. Typically, not the one getting drunk behind the bumper cars is all I'm saying."
"I suppose that's true. Although I have been known to break the rules when it suits me, more often than not where you're concerned." She slid her hand over to rest on the top of his thigh and he switched his hand on the steering wheel so that he could place his down on top of hers. "Rules are good to a certain point, but not always."
Giving his hand a squeeze, she let her head fall back against the seat, remembering the long ago smell of smoke from cigarettes pilfered from her mother's purse and Missy's late-night laughter in her ears.
She awoke the next morning to a grey sky with no rain—not yet, anyway—and nuzzled closer into Mulder's chest. He always smelled so good first thing in the morning. As always, she hadn't meant to fall asleep in his bed; they did try to keep things above board when they were in the field, although she'd be the first to admit that it didn't take much to make her waver on holding fast to that particular rule. She rose up on one elbow, giving him a sleepy kiss before reluctantly crawling out from beneath the heat of the blankets to take a shower.
After breakfast at the truck stop diner across the road, they were back at the sheriff's office by eight. By noon, they had cracked the case with a minor revealed transgression from the town's doctor leading to the unexpected arrest of the wormy-looking accountant they'd both dismissed as likely not involved at the outset. It was nearly four in the afternoon before all the paperwork was completed and filed and flights home—finally!—booked for the following morning. As if following her mood, the ominous grey clouds had broken as well, scattered patches of blue gradually giving way to sunshine.
Back at the motel, Scully couldn't help humming as she changed into a more casual pair of slacks and a light sweater before beginning to transfer her rather bedraggled looking suits from the closet to her suitcase. Tomorrow night, she was going to have a leisurely soak in her own meticulously clean bathtub and relax with a glass of wine and a good book. Or, maybe Mulder would stay over, and that bath could be for two… It was Friday after all…
A knock from the outside door, rather than the adjoining one her room shared with Mulder's, jolted her out of her thoughts.
"One second," she called loudly, tucking the two pairs of panty hose she had left drying over the shower rod in the bathroom into a corner of her suitcase.
Peering through the gap in the gauzy curtains at the window near the door, she was somewhat surprised to see Mulder standing there, bouncing impatiently on the balls of his feet as he waited. He'd changed as well, into black jeans and one of the grey t-shirts he often wore to bed on the road. He gave her a big grin when she opened the door, his hands behind his back.
Her brow creased in puzzlement. "Why are you out here?"
"I have a very important question for you, and this seemed more fitting."
"Okay…"
He pulled his hands around in front of his body, holding a bright red can in each one. "Wanna go to the carnival and make out behind the bumper cars with me?"
She couldn't help but smile at his earnest expression. "Do I want to know why you're offering me a can of Tab?"
"It was the closest thing to beer in the vending machine. And," he paused to gesture grandly at the now nearly cloudless sky, "the storm is out of rain."
Scully paused, letting him continue to squirm excitedly, and squinted up at the sky.
"You know what I think?" she said finally.
"What?"
"I think that sounds like a fabulous idea." She plucked one of the cans from his hands and opened it with a carbonated hiss.
By the time they arrived at the carnival grounds, the action was just beginning to get under way. The ground was still damp, and the people clearly eager to be outside; to take advantage of the clear skies and the prospect of the rare entertainment the carnival offered.
"So, what do you think? Rides or food?" Mulder asked, his eagerness evident.
Her stomach growled loudly at the appetizing smells already drifting around them.
Mulder grinned. "I guess that answers my question."
"What can I say, I'm starving." She wrapped her arms around her midsection and groaned. "I haven't had anything since that terrible egg salad sandwich from the gas station at lunch, and it feels like forever since we had a proper meal."
He settled a hand against her back as they began to walk towards the row of food carts. "You know the best part about eating here?"
"What?"
"No salad." He grinned wider. "No tofu. No wheat germ. No vegetables. Unless you count french fries or maybe fried dill pickles."
"Yeah?" She cocked her head to look up at him, giving him a look of mock innocence.
"Yeah."
They strolled up the first vendor and Scully gave the broad-shouldered teen behind the counter a nod of greeting. "I'll take a corn dog, a large order of onion rings, and…" She paused to peer at the menu board. "A triple chocolate milkshake with fudge sauce. Oh, and a bag of cotton candy."
She glanced back over her shoulder to see Mulder's mouth had fallen open slightly. "You want anything?"
"Uhhh… I'll have what she's having."
When their food was ready, they carried their bounty over to the picnic tables that had been set up beneath a sprawling red and white striped tent. To her surprise, they managed to finish off everything— although Mulder finished most of her onion rings—and then they offered each other pinched clouds of sugary pink cotton candy, letting it melt on their tongues and leaving their fingers sticky.
After purchasing their ride tickets, they opted for the bumper cars first, at Mulder's insistence. The sight of his lanky frame, knees bent and tightly scrunched up to his chest, so he could fit—somewhat—in the tiny car, made Scully snort with laughter. "I don't think these were made with you in mind," she commented as she slid into the car next to his.
"Ha ha, Scully." He wedged his hand down beside him and let out a shout of triumph as he emerged with one end of the seat belt held high. "At least you don't have to adjust the seat to reach the pedals, huh?" He flexed his fingers around the steering wheel as he winked at her.
She regarded him with as cool an expression as she could muster. "Oh, you're a riot. You think I'm not going to make you regret that?"
He gave a small cough and shrugged. "I have no doubt you'll hit me; I've seen the way you drive."
She would have flipped him off, but she was well aware that most of the other cars were filled with kids, so she had to settle for the glare she'd perfected over the years, although it didn't phase him in the slightest.
When the buzzer sounded to signal that the cars were active, Scully spun the steering wheel to veer away from him, much to Mulder's evident surprise. But, numerous minor bumps and collisions later, her tactic paid off when she was able to solidly slam into his car from behind.
"Whiplash! I'll sue! Don't think I won't, just because we work together," he yelled back at her as she reversed and then slammed into him again. "No special treatment!"
They were both laughing by the time the buzzer sounded once more, with Mulder having managed to get in a few solid bumps of his own. She courteously extended a hand to help him unfurl himself from the confines of the car, not unlike a butterfly emerging from a chrysalis.
She looped her arm in his as they walked back out into the main thoroughfare.
Mulder leaned in to murmur in her ear, "Hey, aren't we supposed to be necking behind those now?"
"Later." She smacked his arm lightly. "It's still early."
"So, where to next? Roller coaster? Haunted house?"
"Roller coaster," Scully said decisively. "Although I think you're using the term somewhat loosely."
Mulder turned his head in the direction of the ride, which took up most of one corner of the fairground. The track was bright red, and the carts were painted to look like they were covered in flames of glittery yellow and orange. It had a few small hills and banked turns, but nothing a typical seven year old couldn't handle. "It doesn't look too bad for one they have to take down and put together over and over again." He nudged her side with his elbow. "I'm guessing you like the crazy upside down ones with loops?'
Taking his hand in hers, she gave his fingers a squeeze before pulling him forward. "Do you know what causes the strange feeling in your stomach when you ride a roller coaster? The sudden lack of gravity pushing our organs down and against each other in freefall makes them weightless for a brief moment, each falling individually inside the body."
"Oh, Scully, you know I love it when you talk dirty."
She tugged him along playfully, Mulder letting her lead him, until it was time to tear off more tickets from the reams that were folded up inside his pocket. She leaned against him comfortably, at ease, as they waited in line, enjoying the excitement of the chattering teens in line ahead of them. The wind kept snatching at her hair, sending strands into her eyes that Mulder valiantly and ineffectively attempted to tuck back around her ears in a Sisyphean effort that made her laugh, batting his hands away and then finally drawing his face down to hers for a quick kiss in an attempt to distract him.
"This was a good idea, Mulder."
He kissed the chilled tip of her nose, rubbing her fingers between his to warm them up. "Definitely one of my better ones. We don't get a chance to do this very often. Be silly. Have fun."
"No, we don't. But we should."
They shuffled forward as the carts came to a stop and the previous round of people got off, making way for the next group. Mulder and Scully took the cart behind the giggly teenagers and she tapped the flames on the side with her fingernail.
"Psychologically, I guess these are supposed to make us feel like it's going to be faster than it is?"
"Oh, ye of little faith, Scully. It's well known that experiences and expectations influence the way we perceive our reality. It's basic Bayesian integration." He pulled the metal restraint bar down across their laps once she was seated. "The colour red, the flames, your past memories of riding roller coasters… those patterns are already wired into your neurons so your brain knows what to expect. Once those synaptic connections start activating, you're going to be convinced that you're going faster than you physically are."
"Oh, Mulder, I love it when you talk dirty." She nudged him with her shoulder. "No hands?" she asked, raising her own above her head.
"No hands." He raised his, too, as the cart started forward, beginning the slow climb up the first, and tallest, hill.
This was always her favourite part, the slow buildup, the anticipation of what was to come. Her heart was already thudding in her ears, the rush of adrenaline prickling through her. Once they were speeding down the other side, the ride would be over in a flash. No. This was the best part, hanging on the edge of almost.
She clasped their raised hands together, their eyes meeting, sparkling with shared excitement, as the cart rocketed downward to the whoops of glee coming from the other carts.
"So, I think it's just the ferris wheel left," she said, looking around after their third time on the roller coaster. "We've been on everything else, even the carousel."
The carousel, where Mulder hadn't been able to resist pointing out that her large-toothed steed looked uncannily like one Sheriff Hartwell.
They walked, hand in hand, through the crowd, both lost in their own thoughts.
The twilight had faded into the darker shadow of evening, and a splattering of stars had blinked into being above them. Under the nostalgic aromas of popcorn and caramel, Scully could still smell the earthy dampness of the rain, a renewal of the grasses that had been cut and trampled down to make room for this surrealist escape from the monotony of day-to-day living. A boy wandered past them, eyes wide, mouth slightly agape, clutching tightly to an older girl's hand.
Mulder handed over their last few tickets to the attendant, scraps of paper traded away for mechanical magic, and they waited in line for their turn. Her hand snuggly wrapped in Mulder's larger one, she closed her eyes, trying to remember what it felt like to be sixteen again, wrapped up in the microcosm of who liked whom amongst a cast of teachers and friends and parents, beating their wings against the caged bars of adolescence. What would it have been like had she known Mulder in high school?
Opening her eyes, she studied his profile as he watched the crowds around them. Would she have been drawn to him then, as she had been when they met for the first time? She suspected so. She imagined him as a bit of a loner, shy and smart, but cocky; well aware of his intelligence and his looks, fierce in his beliefs and in the defense of the select few he considered to be friends.
"Scully, why are you staring at me?"
"You know. Profiling you. The usual."
"I thought that was my job."
"I was trying to imagine what you were like in high school."
"Not all that different than I am now, I guess. Skinnier. More awkward." With a good-natured shrug, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in closer, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. "Why?"
"Just one of those funny things, I suppose. I don't feel fundamentally much different than I did in high school, but at the same time I could say that I feel like a totally different person."
"We are the same people. Only with more experience. More joys, more sorrows… Maybe we're never who we're meant to be until the very end, all the rough edges polished away."
The queue ahead of them moved forward as one batch of people got off and another group got on.
"Do you think we would have noticed each other in high school? Been friends? Dated?"
"I don't know," she replied thoughtfully. "I'd like to think so, but who can say? Would you have wooed me with beer and bumper cars?"
Mulder chuckled. "Probably not. I was more of the 'copy out cheesy old poetry and leave it in their locker' kind of guy."
"I can tell you, with all certainty, that that would have worked on sixteen-year-old Dana. In all likelihood even better than beer and bumper cars."
They fell into a companionable silence, watching the happy faces of those around them. Old, young, and all the ages in between, enjoying these precious hours of human-made fantasy that had become imbued with an actual magic of their own. When it was their turn to board, Mulder helped her into the gently swaying seat before sliding in next to her, placing his arm back over her shoulders in a manner that felt inherently right. She'd often found herself resenting these sort of physical displays of affection with previous romantic partners, a strange sensation of being smothered, of needing a degree of physical autonomy to feel comfortable, but not with him. She'd never felt that with him, she thought with a blink of surprise.
The ride creaked as it began to move, the soft strains of an Elton John song from a boom box next to the ride attendant drifting upwards with them. They rose up, looking out over the fairground, over the fields and hills swallowed up by the darkness that had been driven back by the bright lights and noise of the carnival. She leaned her head back against his shoulder, and he in turn dropped his head down to rest on top of hers.
Ooh-hoo, nobody knows it, nobody knows
The cold metal of the seat in contrast to the warmth of Mulder tucked against her side.
Right from the start, I gave you my heart
The island of twinkling lights and colour, a temporary haven amidst an ocean of shadows.
Oh, oh, I gave you my heart
She closed her eyes, trying to freeze it all in her mind, a memory to be wrapped up and cherished and kept. One day, she might need it, a spun-sugar memory of sweetness on her tongue, but tonight… tonight, she would live it for all it was worth.
"You all carnival-ed out, Scully?" Mulder's voice was quiet, but they were high above it all, making it easy to hear.
"Hmm… I guess so. There's just one more thing I wanted to do before we leave."
"And what's that?"
"As if you didn't know." She pulled back, smiling, the warmth from inside of her floating upward like a helium-filled balloon.
He hummed as though he were thinking. "Maybe you should enlighten me."
"Oh, Mulder…"
She kissed him, gentle and sweet, an echo of a New Year's Eve not long past; a cautious acknowledgement of what had come to be. But then she parted her lips, tracing her tongue over the swell of his bottom lip, letting desire and hunger take over as he deepened the kiss; his thumb painting a blush across the canvas of her cheekbones as he cradled her head in his hands. She could never get enough of this, of him.
"I thought we were supposed to do this behind the bumper cars?" he murmured between kisses.
"I don't want bumper cars, Mulder. Just you. And this will do just fine."
Then she kissed him again, and nothing else mattered.
They didn't even notice when the ferris wheel slowed, when the ride operator just shook his head and smiled at them, at this couple so clearly in love. He boarded a new set of folks that were waiting to ride, but the lines were beginning to thin out—it was getting late and all the littles were getting tired; sleepy, sticky faces resting against parents' shoulders.
So, there was really no harm in letting that nice couple be, letting them ride one more round up to the sky and back. He hoped they were happy, that the years ahead of them would be kind. He sang along with Elton, staring up into the cloudless night scattered with stars.
There'd be no rain tonight. None tomorrow either, if the weatherman was right.
Just the perfect weekend for a carnival.
A major shout out to my wonderful beta, Josie Lange, who always makes my writing better and never fails to make me laugh at her comments. Thank you for all that you do, lady!
