>> his mind answered
him. He chuckled at the strange slur of his inner voice,
oblivious to the reality that his vocalizations weren't too
far behind.
"Ya know what I wannado?" Scully blurted out, standing up in a
huff.
"What?"
"I wanna remember this night with som'n speshl."
Skinner pulled off his shirt and fumbled at unbuttoning his jeans, but
was stopped by Scully's hand.
"Nononono... I wanna bind us together in looove, Skinner."
He looked down at his jeans, now successfully relieved of one button.
"Isn't that what I'm tryin' to do here?"
"Well, I wanna do it another way. Com'mere..." she grabbed his arm
and dragged him behind her into the bedroom. Upon the back
wall an imposing set of medical textbooks sat, many of them including
the reminders of what happens to the human body upon the imbibement
of too much alcoholic content.
"Skinnerrr... lift me up. Gotta get one up top, an' I don'wanna
knock everything over."
Skinner obliged, placing his hands firmly around her waist and lifting
her with surprisingly little effort until she reached out for a book
and knocked off his balance. He looked down to adjust his
stance, and felt her arms return to her sides with a few pounds of
extra weight.
“Got it!” she exclaimed, her voice echoing a bit too loudly in his
ears. Her voice startled him and caused him to wobble in
his balance. His grip on her loosened, and she slammed her
knee against the corner of the bookcase as she fell down to the
ground.
“Ow.”
“You okay?”
Scully looked to where the dull pain was originating. “Scraped my
knee. I’ll be okay.” She crawled up from the floor and
displayed her retrieved item. “Here.”
“A binder?”
“Not just a binder.” She dropped her voice to a
whisper. “a spell binder. Lotsa witchy spells ‘n stuff.”
He blinked... hard. Why on earth did Dana Scully have a binder of
spells? Of all the cockamamie things... a spell
book? He’d be hard-pressed to believe that *Mulder* would
own such a thing. Maybe it was the wine. Had
to be the wine. She probably said something else, but the
damn rotted fruit was mushing his brain.
She sat down on the bed, flinging the cover open excitedly. But
for a brief moment, her expression turned sad as her eyes roamed the
title page. Skinner saw “written by Melissa
Scully” in large green calligraphic letters across the
bottom of the page, and everything came into perspective.
“Scully. Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked,
feeling suddenly much more sober.
The red-headed woman next to him nodded. “Yes. ‘Cause I
love you and I want us to be happy. And so would Missy.”
Skinner sighed. “I’m not sure about this.”
She swung a loose arm to his chest. “Oh, don’t be sucha
baby. Come on. You need more
wine. Let’s go do this.” She grabbed him again and dragged
his nearly-willingly body to the kitchen in search of supplies and
more drink.
*****
“I call upon the Great Guardians of all the corners to come help us in
this spell,” Scully announced, arms outstretched.
Skinner glanced at the spell book. “That’s not what it
says! You’re supposed to call each one of them
individually.”
“I’m calling them all at once to save time. I don’t want them to
have to come alone, an’ I don’t think I could spin around anyway.”
“Oh. O-tay.”
“Now quiet. You’re making me lose my concentration.”
Skinner pouted. “Sor-ree. I thought I was helping.”
“You will later. Now hush.” She sighed and resumed her
open arm stance. She squinted as she read the block lettered-words
(not noticing that the authoring date placed Melissa at age
16) “Bring to me my love tonight. Bind us well
and bind us tight. Keep our love strong with heart and let his
body be always... what is that word?”
He leaned over again and glanced at a set of illegible black scratch
marks written over a scribbled out word. “Um, well, it
must rhyme with heart.”
She nodded. “Yeah, but I can’t read it.”
“Neither can I. Guess we’ll have to make something up.”
“Yeah. Guess so.”
They stared at one another, waiting for the other to come up with a
brilliant rhyme. But neither spoke. Scully bit
her lip in thought. Skinner attempted to keep upright as
the most recent glass of pomegranate wine hit
him. But after about fifteen minutes, it was clear neither
of them were going to come up with anything.
“I give up,” Skinner announced. “I can’t think of... ANYTHING.” He
breathed the last word as he shook his head in exaggerated
frustration.
“Me too. I have no idea what Melissa was thinking.” She
slammed the book shut. “Stupid spell.”
“Yeah. But I think it might have worked anyway,” he said quietly.
“How do you know?”
“Because I have something that will bind our love tonight.” His
grin spread wider.
“What?”
and then she looked down.
“Oh. Yeah.”
And they said no more about the obvious rhyme ender between his legs.
***End***
Thank you... this was my first piece of bad!fic. However, it is
also the first piece of fanfiction I’ve managed to finish in FOUR
YEARS
*bows embarrassed to the Scuttlebutt crowd*
