This is the first time I've ever submitted a story so if I'm doing it wrong please tell me and I'll try to do it right. Thanks! -Jamie- NotLucid@aol.com The Right Direction - Sweater Ok, everybody this is my first shot at fanfic, so try not to be too harsh, I'm very sensitive. Anyways the idea for this came from listening to Bob Dylan, if(when you keep reading, you will keep reading because you don't want to offend me)you keep reading you'll see I have a very over-active imagination and how I got from Point A to Point B is beyond even me. So read on. Ciao People. Disclaimer: I've never written one of these before so it might be a little hard for me. But here goes. Mulder and Scully are nnnnooot :::Slap::: Not Mine. :( They belong to Chris Carter, 1013, David Duchovny, Gillian Anderson, and other people who are basically not me. Though maybe if I return to them in better condition then I borrowed them, Chris Carter will give them to me. Then again I could always pack them up and run off to the Bermuda Triangle to have them all to myself. :::Evil Grin::: FeedBack,Threats, Marriage Proposals, and Sweaters are accepted at: NotLucid@aol.com P.S. I'm not much of a speller so if you take offense to misspelled words turn back, and this is also a romance story, so if for some odd reason you take offense to that turn back now. There is also mention of marijuana in this story, if that offends you turn back now. Hell, if your mind isn't warped like mine you'll probably want to turn back now. The Right Direction - Sweater Fox Mulder sat at his desk in the basement office he shared with Dana Scully, who was at the moment working diligently, as he should be. But he couldn't. Skinner had called him down to his office earlier this morning and offered him a case, he actually told Mulder "You can take it if you want, otherwise, I'll find someone else." Mulder took the case file and had read it over, the file stated that there was a town out in the boonies of Indianapolis that was still stuck in the sixties. No big deal, but lately there had been mysterious deaths occuring among the few inhabitants of the town. He knew that if he told Scully right away she would chalk it up to drug overdose and let it go. But an OD it wasn't. The tox screens had shown nothing but traces of marijuana, nothing that would explain the witness reports of the victims convulsing, and couging up pieces of one's own internal organs. Mulder continued to dwell for a few more minutes till he decided that he was going to run it by Scully and most likely regardless of what she said, take the case. As expected Scully preached drug overdose, but Mulder went ahead and took the case anyways. He had told Scully something about her being to young to have fully experienced the sixties and now she would see what she missed. The town had a problem with feds, government officials, anything that helped in sending troops to Vietnam over twenty years ago. This meant Mulder and Scully would have to go undercover, posing as a couple passing through. Not that Mulder or Scully, put up much of a fight about posing as the other's significant other. Mulder thought he could take advantage of the "make love, not war" attitude about this place. And Scully was just thinking about getting to pretend to be Mulder's girlfriend. When they finally arrived, in a VW van, dressed in hippie threads, at 11:00 at night they were welcomed by overly affectionate people, with blood shot eyes and the stench of marijuana. The group herded them over to the bonfire that was raging and had them sit on a nearby log. A woman at the front of the circle was strumming away on her guitar, something about leaves and wind, Scully had heard it in "Forrest Gump" and Mulder regonized because that song was heard everywhere when he was a teenager. There was pipe of weed being passed around it got to Mulder first, and he looked at Scully, shrugged and took a hit, like an expert. Her eyes got wide, he grinned and whispered "College." "Oh." Was all that was Scully's reply, he gave her the pipe and she suprisingly took a good hit as well, no coughing or sputtering like Mulder was bracing himself for, it was his turn to look suprised. "I went to college, too, Mulder." she said as she smirkedl and took another hit. By the end of the evening or by about 2:00 in the morning they were both coming down after flying as high as kites. "Skinner would kill us if he saw us, we're supposed to be investigating, not reliving our college days" Scully said. Her old self was coming back. "Oh, well, he's not gonna see us and frankly at this moment if he did I wouldn't give a damn, now if you're gonna be a downer go away." "Mulder" was all she said but her face said it all- Mulder, you better listen to me or else. "Fine, fine we'll go to bed" "Mulder? Where are the beds?" "You obviously were barely able to walk during the sixties" "Mulder! You were no more then a teenager at best." "I know, I know, but I used to see the hippies on the TV all the time, Sam would always comment on how much she liked their clothes," he said with a touch of saddness, "anyways they would travel the country in vans like ours, and most of the time they slept in them, and since we are travelers, and our assignment says that we are to be undercover, we shall sleep in the van." "You mean they fit two beds in there?" Mulder laughed, "Uh, no. But if it makes you uncomfortable to sleep on a matress with me, then I'll sleep in the passenger's seat and you can have the matress to yourself." "Don't be silly, Mulder, I don't mind so long as you aren't a reckless sleeper and don't snore." "Guilty on both counts, your honor" "Oh, great." After they both got settled in, which wasn't hard since all they did was take off their love beads and leather vests and lay down. Mulder fell asleep immediately, where as Scully tried to focus on the case, though she remembered from college and from the problem she was having concentrating at the moment, that you never feel the same after a high until you sleep, so that's what she did. The next morning Mulder and Scully both woke up at the crack of dawn. "Get up, Mulder, take a shower, you smell." "You don't smell like daises yourself there, Scully, and where do you propose I get rid of this alleged stench?" "I don't know, get out of the van and we'll find someplace." Mulder did as he was told, Scully followed him. When they got out they were suprised to see no one around, though a few of the other vans rocking and grunts were being emitted from these vans. "Make love, not war" Scully said. "Exactly." They found showers similar to those in a locker room, and they showered at seperate times, much to the others dismay, though they would never say. A short time later everybody was out and buzzing around, all glowing from their night time activities, everyone except Mulder and Scully. During the course of the day Mulder and Scully casually questioned people about the deaths. All of the different stories had one thing in common, the victims were smoking from their own pipes. Later that night Mulder and Scully visited the "pot cirlcle" again though this time neither took a hit, they were too busy looking for a person smoking their own pipe. They found him, immediatley they grabbed his pipe, much to his dismay though he was too baked to do much about it. Mulder proceeded to sniff the end of the pipe, after dumping out the bowl, he reconized the smell as Drain-o , he had just cleaned his bathroom last weekend and it had smelled like that for days. "It's Drain-o, Scully, they must of have put it on the end of his pipe so he would ingest it." "Well whatever it is, he doesn't look so good we should get him to the hospital" The man was in a huge coughing fit and looked to be in extreme pain. Mulder and Scully rushed him to the hospital, as fast as their little van would go. They got there and the doctors wisked the man away, they were later told he passed on, not much you can do when a guy coughs up his lung on the operating table. They went back to the town and questioned everyone, they found out that all the victims had actually registered to be drafted to Vietnam but bowed out and became hippies. It turned out to be that the man that had died the most recently, the one they had tried to save, was the one doing the poisoning and not wanting to be hippocritical, had killed himself after the others. And so Mulder and Scully were packing up camp. The town had presented them with a bag of marijuana and Mulder accepted even after Scully protested. When they got back to D.C. and finished the report and all the loose ends where tied up Mulder invited Scully over. Scully accepted thinking she knew full well that he wanted to make use of that bag. Boy, was she in for a suprise. "Alright, Mulder, where is the marijuana?" "You think I would keep that? That hurt's, Scully. I gave it to the Lone Gunmen they were going to test it or smoke it or something, they wouldn't give me a straight answer. But that's not why I asked you over, see I have something to tell you." Scully sighed, it was gonna be a long night. "Scully, Dana, I've known you for a long time and well, uh, see it's like that town we were just in, everyone was stuck in the past, and I did that too only I see that I wanna move on, to the future, and if getting the future I want makes me look like an ass, so be it, I mean I always look like an ass, but this different..." "Mulder, you're babbling." "Oh, whoops. Anyways, see, I, uh, I, I love you and well I want you to be in my future, I want you to be my partner, in all aspects of the word." Scully just stared at him, as visions of her and him walking down the aisle, him holding their child, growing old together flashed through her head. The future. Suddenly she was wisked back to the present at the feel of Mulder's hand on her shoulder. "Scully?" "I love you, too Mulder" She kissed him and he kissed back, ten fold. As he guided her into the bedroom, they both knew this was the right direction to be heading. ...Sweater... -Jamie- NotLucid@aol.com "Sometimes the only sane response to an insane world is insanity" Mulder- "The Walk" "Of all the things I've lost I miss my mind the most." Ozzy Osbourne People who make no sense have fun, besides making sense is no fun. Curious. Why?