#and the tubs for those libraries were in the section he was working on yesterday

[thnksfrthmmrs]

i think millennials are the worst generation i’ve had to work with i’m so serious

[catgluue]

What Happens in Xing

I recently hit 100 followers which was super exciting for me! I really appreciate everyone who follows me and/or takes the time to like, reblog, or comment on my writing. It’s a huge motivator and seriously boosts my writerly self-esteem, such as it is.

Anyway this work takes place in my Price of Life/Portrait of a Family AU and so while that context will add to the fic (particularly the last time) it can also be read on its own. 

Read on A03

The royal palace in Xing’s capital city was nothing like Riza had ever seen. It was massive - at least the size of a city block, she thought upon first seeing it, but after walking the perimeter one humid afternoon she figured it would be big enough for the entirety of the small eastern town she grew up in to fit comfortably within its walls. Sections of the palace were clearly older, and at least one wing was walled off altogether, in need of repairs. When she’d asked their guide one day he told her that the palace had stood for at least a thousand years, although maybe not in its current form.

It didn’t escape her notice that she and General Mustang were given rooms several floors higher than the bulk of the Amestrian party; one floor higher even than Major General Kent, who was the other officer overseeing the diplomatic treatises and trade agreements they’d come here to discuss. Ling never came out and said as much, but she was certain that their rooms were some of the nicer ones in the gigantic palace: her room boasted a bed that could have fit three of her, a huge claw-footed tub, and a floor-to-ceiling window that gave her an impressive view of the city. She’d made a point, several times, to get up early and watch the sun rise over the sloping buildings so different from those at home.  

To her immense surprise the official business had been wrapped up around four days into the weeklong trip, at which point General Kent and his men promptly packed up and took the next train out.

“I suppose we’ll be leaving tomorrow as well?” Riza asked General Mustang as they stood on one of the massive balconies that overlooked the city. Nights brought some relief from the wet heat of the day; a gentle breeze blew over the wide river and across the city, making the heavy woolen uniform seem less oppressive.

“Of course not, Captain,” he said mildly. “Our train doesn’t leave for days; it’s far too late to change it now. You might actually have to take some time for yourself and relax a little. I hope that won’t prove too much of an inconvenience.”

Riza didn’t think she’d had a moment to herself to sit and read a book for close to a year and a half now what with the business with the Homunculi, Ishval, and now the Xing excursion.

“Not at all, Sir,” she said crisply, but she was smiling as she met his gaze.

The next few days they drifted around as civilians, generally together as holiday or not she was still his bodyguard, but the amount of Xingese bodyguards lent to them by the Emperor meant that Riza felt comfortable occasionally acting as ships in the night. After all, the museum of alkahestry didn’t particularly appeal to her and the General was none too interested in seeing the wing devoted to the development of gunpowder. At one point Riza looked up from her book across the  sunroom - a space with a glass roof to let light in, and a large fountain bubbling away in the middle that had quickly become one of her favorite haunts - to see Mustang in his shirtsleeves, heavily engrossed in something he’d borrowed from the Imperial library, a cup of tea in his hand. Occupying the same space as him and seeing him rested, at ease, living again was a gift she didn’t deserve but would value anyway. As though he felt her staring he’d looked up and offered a small smile. She blushed and ducked her head to go back to reading her book.

It was the morning of their last full day in the country: tomorrow they would be on the noon train heading back to Amestris. They were originally scheduled to go back yesterday- in fact the bulk of their accompanying military personnel had left - but she and the General, with a handful of soldiers, had stayed. She was standing straight-backed at Mustang’s right shoulder, thinking that if she’d been any worse a soldier she would have snuck a peek at her pocket watch already, when the reason for their delay finally entered the imperial throne room.

It was still strange seeing Alphonse Elric as a human and not as a suit of armor, but it was refreshing to see him looking robust and healthy, not like the frail wisp of a thing he’d been when they put him on the train, barely strong enough to walk on his own after The Promised Day. He and May Chang, now a young woman, made their way up the long carpeted entryway and bowed to the young emperor. Ling rose from his seat, inclined his head, and the ceremony seemed to be over.

“They certainly like processions,” the General murmured, soft enough that only she would be able to hear, while Ling and May said their informal hellos, which seemed to involve quite a lot of teasing, she noted with a smile. There was going to be a parade in a few hours, ostensibly as a homecoming for May, who had been traveling for the better part of a year, but realistically as an excuse for Ling to throw another lavish feast.

“I don’t see the harm,” she whispered back.

“Six feasts since we’ve been here, and this is the third parade,” he muttered. “It’s a little much.”

“Colonel - Oh sorry, it’s General now right? Brother mentioned in one of his letters,” Al said as he approached, offering a hand shyly but not looking at all upset when the older man pulled him into a hug instead. Not something he would have tried in-uniform but technically they were using vacation days for this last leg of the trip. With the exception of the parade later on they were dressing and acting like civilians.

“Hi Captain Hawkeye,” May said a little shyly, and Riza turned to smile at the younger woman.

“Hello May. You’ve gotten so tall,” she said. It was true; though still on the shorter side, May had grown half a foot since Riza had seen her last.

“And pretty,” Mustang added, ever the charmer. Al came over to wrap Riza in a hug and she was struck again by how much things had changed. He was taller than her, broad-shouldered and with a striking similarity to his brother, although even nearing twenty Alphonse’s face remained cherubic. She’d changed too, of course: there were lines by her eyes that hadn’t been there five years ago, and she’d cut her hair off and grown it out again, so that it now sat a little below her shoulders. Recently the heat had her thinking about cutting it as short as she’d had it when they first moved to East City all those years ago. The General was pulling something out of his pocket; a book wrapped in ribbon, and handing it to May. “I brought you something,” he said.

“Oh that wasn’t necessar- OH, General Mustang! Where did you get this?”

“You can call me Roy, and there’s certainly more where that came from, my connection is very reliable.”

“He’s talking like he got that book off the black market,” Riza said to Al, who just grinned.

“He might have; it was banned thirty years ago for the author’s, ah, unconventional ideas.” He wilted immediately under the look she gave him and put his hands up. “Nothing all that bad, promise, he was just before his time where some aspects of medical alchemy were concerned. His ideas are really interesting, if you-” Riza held a hand up.

“I’m afraid anything else is going to go over my head,” she admitted, still eyeing the book. The cover was roughened leather that still bore traces of gold leaf, and everything about this, from May’s reaction to Al’s explanation spoke to the book being very hard to get ahold of and also very expensive.

“How did you know?” May was squealing, arms clamped tightly around the General’s waist, her precious new book in her hands. Alphone grinned broadly as he pried her off of Mustang, standing with an arm casually slung over her shoulders as she turned the book over in her hands.

“I have my sources,” the alchemist revealed, with a wink at Al. “I do try to stay in touch, even though your brother and I have this game where he hangs up on me the first time and I have to wait for Winry to answer the phone and make him take the call.”

“But this must have been so… I mean, thank you very much,” May said. Riza knew enough about nonverbal communication to know that something in the look Al gave her told her to drop the subject. Her own sharp look at the General was met with careful avoidance. There was of course nothing wrong with bringing a gift to an eager young scholar, she reasoned, and let the matter go.

-x-

This was the third parade, but Riza was no less unsettled than she’d been at the first. Parades were liabilities, plain and simple; you might as well paint a target on the back of every person of interest who set foot within a hundred yards of the garish floats and ostentatious musical pavilions. She would have far preferred being a spectator; they milled around eating thornapples and skewered meats and waving miniature pinwheels. She realized suddenly that she hadn’t really been to an event in years that didn’t involve her acting as bodyguard.  

“Stop dancing around me, Hawkeye,” the General muttered after the fourth time she switched from his right side to his left.

“We aren’t properly staffed, Sir,” she replied. “I want to be sure I’m able to spot any possible threats.” He waved a hand dismissively.

“We’re in the center of a platoon of soldiers.”

“And the only ones in Amestrian uniforms in this section of the procession,” she pointed out. “We’re sitting ducks.” Mustang ignored this, tugging at his collar.

“I wish we’d get a move on, it’s sweltering .”

She had to admit it was; wool uniforms and humid summer air didn’t mix particularly well. They’d been in Ishval earlier this year overseeing reconstruction plans but it had been spring and they only had to contend with the dry heat that was more typical of the desert. Here there was no escaping the damp summer air. At long last the parade started moving, snaking its way through the city. They would loop around the outskirts of town and then end up back at the palace. The whole thing would last over an hour.

They were situated at the front of the same float they’d adorned for the previous two parades; a burnished gold monstrosity that Riza supposed was supposed to be a fish. Only this time instead of their military escort they were standing with a handful of Ling’s soldiers, with May seated on an ornately decorated chair reminiscent of a throne that was situated on the dais and Al just below. May had looked slightly uncomfortable at first, but soon adjusted, smiling and waving to the crowd as they trundled along.

With less people there was more surface area and therefore more blinding gold to contend with. Riza resisted the urge to shield her face with her hand as the sun danced across the multifaceted surface. The General looked to be concentrating deeply on something, but as she followed his gaze she didn’t see anything amiss.

“Cenz for your thoughts, Sir?” she asked and he seemed surprised.

“I’m thinking that the second we get back to the palace I’m getting a pitcher of iced wine and sitting next to one of those massive indoor fountains,” he said, and flashed her a grin. “You’re welcome to join me of course.”

She opened her mouth to say that actually they had some reports they could stand to go over and should probably pack as well when there was a sudden flash of movement overhead, and something hot and bright burst inside their float. Instinctively Riza flung her body sideways, into the General, forcing him to the floor and shielding his body with her own. For a few harsh moments she was far away, both in time and place, in a different desert, with a different threat, following the same man. Her breath caught in her throat as she willed herself back to the present, to Xing and the Parade. A few moments of relative silence passed, and she hesitantly looked up to see Alphonse and May also climbing to their feet, May’s ornate chair merrily burning under the ruins of a massive Xingese firework. There was a snort beneath her and she looked down to find that she was nose to nose with Mustang.

“A rogue firework,” he said, regarding the object. She couldn’t tell what exactly he did but a second later the flame was snuffed out, starved of oxygen.

She got to a sitting position, looking around at the crowd, but everyone seemed to be carrying on as usual, the spectacle over. With the sheer amount of explosives Xing boasted this can’t have been the first untimely detonation they’d ever seen. May was standing at the front of the float waving as though nothing had happened, Al at her side.

“You can probably let me up now,” he remarked dryly and Riza looked down to find she was still straddling his midsection. She got to her feet and offered a hand to help him up and he smoothed his uniform down. Was it the heat of the uniforms, or were his cheeks tinged pink? Hers felt hot too and she looked away towards the crowd. How many times had she pushed him aside, or covered his body with her own in times of danger, and yet she had never been as thrown off-kilter by the feeling of their bodies pressed against each other. Even through two sets of uniforms it was a sensation that made her breath catch somewhere behind her sternum.

Stoically she moved a half-step behind him, and the parade went on.  

-x-

After a very long and very convoluted feast, they walked back to their rooms in a comfortable silence.

“You know Captain, I’ve got a bottle of nice Xingese wine and a balcony, if you’d like to watch the fireworks,” he offered. She considered a moment; as the senior officer, his room was nicer. Hers was next door and had a nice large window, but no balcony to speak of.

“All right,” she said, surprising him as well as herself. “Let me change out of my uniform and I’ll be right over.”

She stopped in her room long enough to change into a soft knee-length skirt and hesitated before putting on a lightweight sleeveless shirt she would normally only wear to sleep in, because the top of her tattoo could be seen peeking out of the top. Her hair covered it, however, and the night was warm enough that she’d be glad to wear less fabric. She padded to the connecting door and knocked lightly.

He’d also changed, into a button down and slacks, and handed her a glass of deep purple-red wine as she walked in, which she sniffed at before sipping; they were fond of fortified wine here and so the vintage was peppery with a hint of berries and nutmeg that burned pleasantly on the way down.

“I think they’re about to start-” Mustang was saying, but was interrupted by a loud pop , and a bright display of color and crackling out over the city. Mesmerized, Riza drifted through the room and out the open glass doors to what was admittedly a very nice patio. It was large, with a iron-wrought table and chairs near the doors, a few potted plants, and an actual sofa towards the other end. Bypassing the furniture entirely, she walked to the rail and settled her elbows on it to wait for the next eruption.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” she breathed, as Roy came to stand next to her, elbow barely brushing hers.

“I have,” he replied. “Not for years - they used to set off fireworks in Central every year on New Year’s Eve. But they stopped around the time I went to learn under your father.”

“No wonder you weren’t impressed by the sparklers we got from the village,” she mused, lips quirking upward in a smile. He had the grace to look embarrassed.

“I really was quite the insufferable city boy, huh?”

Two more glasses of the heady Xingese wine and they sat on the couch, her leaning up against the pillows with her legs bent over his lap, him sitting upright, absently tracing a finger around the bruising on her knee that had appeared after the scuffle at the parade.

“That was close, earlier,” he said finally, and she looked up.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been attacked by a firework before,” she said dryly. “They’re very loud up close.” A warm feeling had settled somewhere in her stomach, courtesy of the wine, the fireworks, and the General’s proximity. The General’s proximity which was… entirely too near, now she stopped to think about it. She made to swing her legs off the couch so they wouldn’t be so entwined, but the weight of his arm across the bend in her legs stopped her.

“Don’t, please. Just… don’t. Let’s enjoy this.”

Normally she would protest out of some sense of country and duty but the wine and the warm summer air had affected her in equal measure, so she sat back against the pillows without another word. His hand that was tracing her bruises drifted up her thighs to trace the end of her skirt, however, and she cleared her throat.

“That was nice of you, to get that book for May. What made you think of it?” she asked, believing that to be an innocent, diffusing question. Diffusing of what, she didn’t quite know, she just had a vague sense of something needing to be doused. He chuckled, and the warm burning in her belly intensified.  

“You’ll think I’m being sentimental but I kind of feel like I owe her one.” At her puzzled look he shrugged. “On The Promised Day, if she hadn’t jumped in to heal you when she did… she saved your life.”

“So shouldn’t I be the one giving her presents?” Riza asked, amused. His eyes were oddly intense, and her smile quickly vanished.

“I almost lost you,” he said seriously, and he reached out, seemingly without meaning to, and caught a strand of her hair between his fingers, and it occurred to her how close they were sitting. “So no, it’s me who owes May Chang a debt I can never really repay.” a firework went up, and popped into the inky black night, illuminating them and for a moment time stood still.

“I’ve always been ready to die in pursuit of our goals,” she breathed, not knowing what else to say, unable to tear her eyes away from his.

“And if that’s what it takes to reach the top, I don’t want it,” he told her firmly. His hand was now resting gently on her chin, and she was surprised to find her own fingering his collar. She wasn’t sure if he was leaning in or if she was, but their noses lightly bumped together and he froze. “Tell me not to,” he said softly, like a prayer.

This was an order she couldn’t obey. She closed the distance between them and pressed her lips to his, just as another firework crackled overhead.  This was dangerous, she thought as she slid down on the cushion, using her hands on his collar to pull him down with her, something he was all too eager to comply with, sliding a hand behind her knee to hitch it over his hip. His body was a comforting weight on hers, and made this moment seem weighty and real, a culmination of what she had come to accept as pointless longing for something that needed to remain forever out of reach.

She ran her hand up through the back of his hair, tugging lightly as she kissed him hungrily. He ground his hips against hers and she gasped at the contact, hand resting lightly on the side of his face as he pulled gently away. For a moment they just looked at each other, and she found she was able to read the question in his eyes as easily as ever. Her lip quirked and at her silent response, he bent to trail kisses down her throat.  

She wasn’t sure how they’d managed to make their way back into the room, stumbling into door frames, shucking off clothes as they went. How strange that she’d known him for so many years, through so many triumphs and failures, but yet there was apparently still so much to learn. There was a particular sound he made when she grazed his neck with her teeth that was new, and so enticing she half-laughed as she brought her lips once more to his. Her naked back hit the cool silk of the sheets on his bed and she sighed as he kissed his way down her body.

The light from the fireworks lit the room through the open patio doors, but they hardly noticed, engrossed in each other with the heady desperation of people who were seizing an opportunity that may never come again.

-x-

Riza’s first thought upon waking was that she’d had too many glasses of strong Xingese wine. Her second was that there was an arm securely wrapped around her waist. Her third was that she was completely naked. She made to sit upright but the arm was utterly unyielding, so she settled for covering her face with her hands.

“Oh no,” she said out loud, and the body behind her snorted slightly, shifting under the thin topsheet that covered them.

“Wh- Hawkeye?” for there could be no mistaking her for anyone else he might have taken to his bed; he was face to face with her scarred back. She winced, thinking about the rude awakening that must be.

“Good morning, Sir,” she said tightly. The most embarrassing thing was that they hadn’t had all that much wine. Yes they’d been tipsy and she now felt like she needed to drink a whole pitcher of water, but she remembered everything. Oh how she remembered. She felt heat rush to her face as she rolled over, his arm still around her waist, to look at him.

“Good morning,” he said, eyes meeting hers and then drifting lower. She cleared her throat, studiously avoiding looking anywhere but his face.

“So this was a colossal fuck-up,” she said. “Sir.” He sat up on one elbow, leaning over her as he swept her bangs out of her eyes and leaned in to brush his lips to her neck.

“Mmph,” he said, and she took that as assent. The arm that had been situated across her hips withdrew, and his fingers ghosted over her hips, around to her stomach, and dipped lower, brushing between her thighs. She caught his wrist delicately and pulled his hand upward.

“We can’t,”

“We most certainly can,” he told her, kissing her hotly below her ear, “and have.” She sighed. Well the damage was done, it seemed early enough, and the way he was nibbling her earlobe was causing a familiar warmth to pool behind her navel. Using her legs and the element of surprise she rolled him over onto his back. He ran his hands up her thighs to her hips, grinning up at her wolfishly.

“Once more couldn’t hurt, I suppose,” she acquiesced, and bent to hiss him.

After, as she lay in his arms, both of them covered in a fine sheen of sweat, the panic really began to set in. He cleared his throat, apparently, and as usual, thinking along the same lines she was.

“What now?” he asked, seeming to echo her thoughts. “Do - should we figure out how to continue this when we’re back in Central?” She sat up on one elbow and regarded him seriously, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Do you want to?” she asked. He turned pink and avoided her eyes.

“More than anything in the world, but -”

“Not more than anything,” she finished for him. “I’m glad we agree. We’ve come too far; we’ve lived through too much to risk it.”

“Riza,” he said, and her name on his lips was both foreign and so familiar it made her chest ache and for a moment she couldn’t meet his eyes. “You have to know that I-”  she leaned down and kissed him soundly, her hair falling in a curtain as though to hide this brief moment of weakness on both of their parts from the world.

“Please don’t say it,” she said softly. “It’s going to make it so much harder to forget this.”

“But you know,” he breathed, and she nodded, blinking hard.

“I do. And… me too.”

-x-

Six weeks later Riza stood up from the bathroom floor, wiping her mouth, feeling as though a cold bucket of water had been upended onto her as she thought hard, counting weeks and sinking further and further into a certainty tinged with wild panic. This wasn’t the first time she’d been sick lately, and she had a suspicion it wouldn’t be the last.

She washed her hands robotically, thinking hard.

They had been so concerned with bureaucracy following their… indiscretion, that she hadn’t even stopped to consider biology. That there could be ramifications beyond losing their jobs. Since returning to Amestris they’d been particularly careful not to spend time alone, and a touch formal, and sometimes he looked at her in a way that made her face heat up, but everything had gone back to more-or-less normal. She had thought - they had both thought - that they’d gotten away with it, and they could put it behind them with nothing but a pleasant memory to remember it by.

She pressed a hand to her still-flat lower stomach. What would people say?

Well of course they’d say the obvious. She hadn’t caught wind of rumors regarding her and her commanding officer in years, but that didn’t mean that they weren’t there, simmering gently despite no evidence. They had been very careful never to act improperly towards each other. She would have to come up with a plausible story, and furthermore she would need to make sure that the General reacted in a way that spoke of his innocence in the matter.

Riza eyed herself in the mirror; a hard-eyed soldier stared back at her. As much as it made her feel like a hand was clenching around her heart, this child wouldn’t be able to know its father. Riza would do this alone because she had no other choice. She needed to protect him. She needed to protect them both.

-x-

“Hawkeye you have to talk to me.”

It was four days after her in-office revelation, something she had done specifically not to arouse any suspicion, and yet here he was, on her doorstep in the middle of the night, and she had a strong hunch that he’d been at his aunt’s newly reestablished bar. Riza wasn’t sure what she had expected but he hadn’t been taking the news well, she could see it in the lines beneath his eyes in the office today, in the flat quality to his voice when he spoke to her. She opened the door further and waved him inside to avoid making a scene where people might see.

“You’ve been avoiding being alone with me for days, please,” he said, standing in the middle of her living room and looking utterly lost, dark eyes wide and hair mussed.

“I haven’t…” she trailed off - denial was no good, not with him. “I haven’t known what to say to you. It’s a setback, to be certain.”

“A setback , try a disaster! I can’t BELIEVE we didn’t- That I didn’t - ”

“There’s no use blaming yourself. We can’t exactly take it back now” she said quietly, and brushed past him to put the kettle on. When she turned back around he’d sunk down onto her couch and was running a hand through his hair.

“What do we do now? Do we run away to Xing? We could, you know,” he said, looking up but not at anything in particular. “Ling would find a place for us, you could be his bodyguard and I could be Royal Alchemist or Official Firework-Starter, or-”

“Don’t be ridiculous. We stay, and we work, and I… I’m going to raise the child of a random Xingese courtier who shall remain nameless.” A knot had settled somewhere deep in her chest and she doubted it would come undone anytime soon. “And if the rumors get to be too much and they threaten your career, I’ll disappear.”

“With my child? Like hell you will,” he said, voice rough. This gave her pause. The clock on her mantle had never sounded so impossibly loud in the stillness of her apartment Slowly, she walked to the couch and reached out, not quite touching, fingertips grazing the fabric at his shoulder.

“You realize it can never be your child,” she told him softly. He put his head in his hands.

“I’m aware.”

She sat next to him and hesitated, before wrapping her arms firmly around his shoulders. He leaned into her, and she let her head fall to gently rest against his. For a while all they did was breathe together, in and out, soothing each other by sheer virtue of being present. A heaviness settled over them and Riza doubted they would have another moment together like this again. She turned her face into his shoulder; she would not cry, not now, not in front of him. There would be time for that weakness later.  

“This is going to be a nightmare,” he said after a moment.

“We can make the most of it.”

“Can I just ask you for one thing?” he looked up at her. “It might be a bad idea under the circumstances but the baby… if it’s a boy, can we name him after Hughes?” This was a bad idea, she thought. It would be the obvious choice for a child of Roy’s. But she had known and loved the man as well, and it couldn’t be seen as that unusual that she would choose to honor a fallen comrade when naming her firstborn. She nodded, running a hand down his arm and lacing her fingers through his.  

“I think we can do that.”

It was a girl, but they named her after Maes anyway.  

[serahsanguine]

Vacation Series Pt. 2. Halloween Surprises Ch, 2

This is the second chapter of the second book in a two-part series

Book one. - pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4, pt. 5, pt. 6

Book Two. - pt. 1, 

All chapters can be found Here on Ao3

This Chapter Rating; NC-17 NSFW

Tagging; @skullsmuldon @today-in-fic @baronessblixen @peacenik0

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

Notes; The book referenced is an actual book for myths and legends in Martin County and thanks to Amber and Ian giving me the reference to write from. Everything that is in the ‘book’ related is actually how it is written in the book.

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

Chapter Two; Day Two -  Spooky Stories & Marvelous Myths

The sky was dark outside and the waves could be heard crashing into the shore. The smell of their escapades was still hinted in the air and the simmering embers of the dying fire crackling and hissing in the background. 

Mulder rolled over to find Scully’s side of the bed cold he sat up and looked around the room. He found the small light under the door of the suite. There was a sound of water running and the light being turned off. He lay back down and soon felt her weight cocooned into his body. 

“Are you ok?” he whispered to the top of her head. 

“I’m fine just needed a bathroom break.”

He chuckled and they fell back to sleep. 

Several hours later. 

Both Mulder and Scully were sitting in the kitchen Mulder was making pancakes and Scully was sitting on the kitchen island. 

“What time are The Lone Gunman due?” 

“Not until early evening, they have a story to wrap up.”

She took a sip of her coffee and admired the view of him naked wearing nothing but an apron. And smiled when she thought of the little marathon escapade against the kitchen table. Both vowed they would still eat thereafter doing what they had just done. 

“Thinking about earlier?”

He sat down placing a stack of pancakes in front of both her and him and a slice of toast as well along with fresh orange juice and coffee.

“How could you tell?”

“You have a look about you, you only have it when you’re thinking about either me or sex.”

“Describe it to me.”

He leaned over to her and brought his finger to her face and slowly caressed near her eye and spoke in a low voice. 

“You have a glint in your eye and your eyes change a different shade of  blue”

He moved his finger to the corners of her lips.

“The corner of your mouth turns up a little and you get little creases right here, a hidden smile and the look of affection and adoration.”

He placed his lips on her kissing her softly. He leaned back and sat back into his spot.

“And those lips tell me your in love and the happiest you’ve been in a very long time.”

“I do love you,”

“I know and I love you too.” 

They carried on talking and finishing breakfast, Scully went off to start getting ready for the trip Mulder had planned and if she was being honest it actually sounded nice. Visiting an old book store and browsing their books. She used to do it when she was younger, it was more for comfort back then peace quiet, especially when moving around a lot. The first thing she would do is go into town and find the nearest bookstore and sit in a quiet corner and she would instantly feel safe no matter the place, no matter the time. 

Mulder was cleaning up the pots when it had occurred to him that the only thing Scully had eaten was a half slice of toast. He was dismayed at her not eating but thought nothing more of it. Maybe she was just feeling a little under the weather from there journey yesterday. 

Several hours later they had walked into town managing to dodge the heavy rainfall that unexpectedly came up. They stood outside a cleverly named bookstore called Turn the Page Mulder could not help but smile at the pun. The bookstore from the outside was beautiful with dark brown stained wood bay windows with clear glass windows flanking it. With a display with purple silk and a few spooky Halloween children's books standing upright on display. The top banner above the window in black with white letters setting off the whole place. The door was the same wood as the window with small panes of glass at the top each spelling out the book store name.   

Mulder went through the door first and like any good bookstore, there was a little bell letting the owner know they had a customer. Mulder being the man he is went straight to the Syfy and New Article's section. Scully went to novels first before working herself around to the Science/ Medical book section. 

The bookstore smelled of smoked almonds with a mixture of old and new books. Scully ran her finger over the shelves and each sequential book. Some covers feeling smooth and designed to barely touched or new, and others feeling rough, scratchy well worn and well-loved. There were first editions and third editions mixed together with the low lighting making it brilliant for reading and looking. She went through the sections one by one all the way to the back of the store where she found the quiet corner filled with soft table lamps emitting a yellow-orange glow. There was also a range of different chairs some hard and tall some soft and cushioned but each unique in their own way. 

She could spend hours at a bookstore reading through every book and when she looked over at Mulder he also looked in his element. No more than 5 minutes later he was trying to get her attention but without disturbing everyone else, she walked over to him and he looked like a kid in a candy store all excited.

“Look Scully!” he whispered.

“What is it?” she whispered back. 

“It's a book full of myths and legends.” 

“We, and I repeat WE, are not going looking for an X-File while were are on holiday,” she said a bit more loudly then she meant to and quickly looked around feeling like a schoolgirl that had been caught shouting in a library at school. 

“You wound me Scully, but I promise we are not going looking for an X-File on our vacation.”

“Good! So why are you all excited about this book?” 

“It just fits the theme of this week don’t you think?"

She looked at him sceptically before taking the book out of his hands and reading the title of the book. ‘Ghosts and Witches of Martin county’. She had to give it to him, this is actually what she had been looking for when she had mentioned it to him a mere few hours earlier. 

She thought back to when she asked. 

*****

“Mulder I want to go look for a book,” she said pulling the blue T-shirt over her head as he just turned on the shower.

“Well it’s a good thing we're going to the bookstore later than, isn't it?”

She rolled her eyes at him even though he couldn’t see it. She could hear the water splashing the tub and flowing down the drain and imagined his naked skin,  water dripping in slow motion from him. Her tongue following each trail of water down to the apex of his legs, where he was thick, hard and oh so swollen with a little clear liquid seeping from his tip. 

“For?” 

She was brought out of her thoughts as she heard the tail end of what he had been saying, 

“What was that Mulder, I didn't quite catch that?” she shouted a bit louder so he could hear her over the running water. 

“I said, what kind of book are you looking for?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Hum, try me,” he shouted back. 

“I will tell you when you're finished,” she replied.

No more than five minutes later he stepped out of the shower his hair wet and going in all different directions and a beige towel wrapped around his lower half. He walked through the suite and up behind Scully kissing her on the neck.

“What is this book you are looking for?” he said in between kisses and she melted at his touch. 

“A book of old myths and legends of different countries, Ahab and I used to do it every year near Halloween since then my mom and I  have done it unless we have been away with work.”

“That sound like something a family should do,” he said sadly. 

 She turned him around so now she could look him in the eye even with the height difference both knew this was an I'm telling the truth and mean everything I say and you'd better believe me. Look

“Mulder, if you haven't learned by now YOU ARE my family,” she kissed him on the lips and rested her head against his beating heart. 

 “I believe you, but why am I only hearing about it now?”

“It just never came up, unlike something else I know,” she said as she grabbed his standing erection and he gasped but soon disrobed her of her newly put on clothes before making their way into town.

***

He lead her by the hand over to the quiet reading corner their fingers interlocked the whole time and he began to read the first myth/legend to her. 

They sat down, Scully’s back against his stomach with the book in one hand and his other hand wrapped around her stomach. And he started to read. 

“The title reads, The Devil’s Pocosin,”

“Sound interesting do read on. ”

“The Devil’s Pocosin - a thick, dark, hazardous swampy area was the reputed heaven of ‘evil spirits’ as well as the wildcat, the panther and the bear during the colonial and ante-bellum days. Yet those wetlands produced such an abundance of huckleberries that groups of pickers would take a chance in its thickets even with the deadly cottonmouth moccasin that inhabited them. People generally believed that the pocosin provided haunts for the devil and the ‘witches’ from nearby communities.” 

Mulder read in slow whispers into her ear if people wandered past they wouldn’t have noticed. They were in their own bubble. 

“Here they were said to gather and plot wicked schemes against the good people of the area. Jack - o - lanterns or will -o- wisps were often seen around the borders of the pocosin, enticing men into the thickets where they often became lost and wandered around until daybreak. No hunter would dare to enter the pocosin alone.”

Scully turned her head so she could talk to his face.

“Will you read me another before we have to go home?”

“Of course Scully.”

“Title reads, Spell broken by old iron stake.”

Scully snuggled in deeper to him.

“The southern concept of ghosts and spirits were generally of English origin. African slaves delivered in both animate and inanimate belongs possessed of ‘spirits’ and both the slaves and the colonists believed in witches. Early settlers in the American colonies almost without exception believed in human ‘ghosts’ and the witches used their magic powers in various ways. Most of the slaves used bags of various witches' concoctions; and lacking material means, they used witchcraft as a means of revenge, sometimes even the master of the slaves turned to the witches for advice in seeking revenge on his enemies. Most people are afraid of the witches and did not relish the idea of being ‘conjured’ by them. 

They were broke out of their moment when the heard an elderly man speak to them. 

“Hello Sir, Madam, I’m closing soon.”

Scully stood up and looked at the elderly gentleman with his light brown trousers and checked red and brown shirt. 

“Oh, I'm sorry sir we will be getting out of your way. ”

“Oh no dear you’re not in the way. It's been a long while since two people came in here to read in our quiet corner and actually read if you get my meaning.” 

Scully helped Mulder stand and then blushed at what the old gentleman had said. 

“How long have you owned the shop?” Mulder asked.

“It’s been in the family for three generations now. ”

“It’s a lovely little store” Scully replied.

“Thank you, ma'am, you can have that book you’re holding for free as a thank you for talking to me and letting me enjoy your company for a little while.”

“It’s too much,” Scully said as she tried to hand the book back to the shop owner. 

“Nonsense my dear,” he said pushing the book back to Scully, “Just come visit me every once in a while.”

“We will, we promise,” Mulder said softly.

“Now you two love birds best be going before it gets too cold.”

Both Mulder and Scully put on their coats and slipped out the front door. What the shopkeeper didn't know is Mulder slipped 20 dollars just underneath a book near the till on their way out.

It was dark when they stepped outside, there were puddles of water along the cobblestone path and roads. The moon and stars creating shimmers of white in the reflections of passing windows. The sky was clear and not a cloud in sight, Scully moved into Mulder's warmth as they walked to the little house they called home while they were here.