Title: Bump In The Night: naDev tlhInganpu' tu'lu'
The Scullyfic challenge: In one weekend, improvise a story entitled "Bump in the Night" using the introductory paragraph and other specific elements (see end notes). Rachel, please don't hurt me for 'borrowing' that thing at the end. ;-)
For Adrianne, with luuuuurve.
She felt as if she'd stumbled into an old horror movie. Dust shrouded the neglected furniture; there was a cobweb veil across every doorway. Dark stains of long-ago violence were splattered over the walls and tattered drapes. Only the haunting rumble of organ music was missing from the scene, and she would have welcomed it to mask the hollow sound of her footsteps. The lonely echo reminded her that she had come to this place alone. Or so she thought, until something brushed against her shoulder.
"Excuse me?" Scully was a little puzzled.
"tlhIngan Hol Dajatlh'a'?" he questioned in a low voice.
"No, I-- Wait, I think I remember this one," she smiled. "tlhIn-gan Hol vee-jat-hlaH-beee."
The man smiled. "Close enough."
Scully blushed a little and looked around surreptitiously before settling her eyes back onto the man in front of her. He had such an elaborate costume, the leather of a warrior's formal clothing, the wig of long black hair, the forehead ridges. Most impressive was the ornately detailed bat'telh resting upon his left arm. It was most definitely real and most definitely sharp. He obviously was a *really* big fan to go to so much trouble.
"So," he said, startling her out of her perusal, "what brings a Starfleet officer like you to a place like this...all alone?"
"I'm supposed to be meeting somebody, but he's late, as usual," she replied, not really wanting to stand around and talk all night with someone she'd never recognize out of costume. Damn Mulder for putting her in a situation like this.
It had been a slow October case-wise, quite an unusual situation actually--almost like they were on a hiatus. Mulder was opening his mail when he began chuckling quietly. Ordinarily that wouldn't have bothered Scully, but he just kept laughing.
Finally she gave in to his obvious baiting. "Mulder, what is it you find so amusing?"
"I got this invitation for a Halloween party, and--" he broke off to chuckle some more.
Scully let out an exasperated sigh when he wouldn't continue. "And what, Mulder?" She hated when he did this.
"It's for Trek fans, and I was...I was picturing you dressed up as...as Spock." He pinched the tops of his ears and started laughing again, this time quite loudly. Scully rolled her eyes.
"Number one, Mulder, I wouldn't dress up as Spock for Halloween even if someone paid me and number two, he was the most interesting character on the original series." She turned back to her computer screen.
"Hmmmwhat Mulder?" She continued typing. "I didn't hear you."
"I asked if you wanted to go to the costume party. You know, get out of the house, see the wide world."
"Fine, Mulder," she answered, not really paying attention.
Mulder was more than a little surprised. "Uh, Scully, are you sure?"
"Yeah, sure, sure," she answered again. She began poring intently over receipts from their last case.
One week later, Mulder stopped her short as she was walking out the door for the weekend.
"So, see you tomorrow night?"
"What?" she asked, confused.
"That costume party..."
"What about it Mulder?" Scully was feeling a little impatient. Some peppermint bath salts were calling her name. Quite loudly, in fact.
"Scully, don't tell me you forgot about the costume party." His infamous pout began to take form. "I've got my Captain Kirk costume all ready."
"Oh, yeah, right. The costume party..." She honestly had no idea that she'd supposedly agreed to go to the party, but she might as well. Nothing else to do this weekend but work on that article.
"Um, what time does it start?"
"Eight o'clock. It'll take about half an hour to get there. You can meet me at my place, or I can pick you up?"
"Um, I've gotta...run some errands tomorrow Mulder. Lots of them. I'll...I'll meet you at the party, just give me directions, okay?"
"You don't have a costume," Mulder accused with a smirk.
"I..." Scully was caught red handed. Or red-shirted as the case may be. She'd be lucky if she could even get one of those from a costume shop at this late date.
Typically, Mulder read her thoughts. "You'll be lucky to get a red-shirt two days before Halloween. Of course, you *could* get some dancing girl outfit and be one of the chickadees from the pleasure planet. You know, fawn all over Captain Kirk." He leered playfully. "But damn, I wanted to have you go as Spock, so we could help substantiate those rumors that he and Kirk had a little of a 'thing' going, if you know what I mean." Here he waggled his eyebrows in such a way that was supposed to be suggestive but actually reminded Scully of Groucho Marx.
"Yes I do know what you mean, Mulder. Unfortunately." She grabbed the paper on which he had scribbled semi-legible directions and left.
So now here she was waiting for Mulder, talking to this guy who, now that she looked a little more carefully, was actually quite well-built under all that leather. At first she'd had some suspicions about his identity, but Mulder had told her he was coming as Captain Kirk.
He seemed to be appreciating her form as well, the Klingon was. Lord knew there was enough of her showing in this costume.
Of course the shop had been out of Star Trek stuff. It was every geek's dream to dress up on Halloween, and, surprisingly, not every trekker owned a Starfleet uniform. She'd wanted to go as Chief Medical Officer. It was who she'd played when she was little; Charlie was always Kirk, and she was always Bones. It had been such a naughty thrill to say "Damn it, Jim!" when she was ten. She hid her fascination with trekdom so well from everyone except Charlie; it was no wonder Mulder had never realized she was a fan.
She'd had to resort to digging into the back of her closet for the costume she'd worn to that party at the premed co-ed fraternity back in
undergrad. She didn't seem to remember it being quite so tight before. Or short. Damn, but she was hating herself for taking her extra-special dress uniform to that cheap dry cleaner.
"Would you care for some blood wine?"
"Huh? Oh yes, that would be nice," Scully smiled politely. If Mulder wasn't here in ten minutes, she was leaving. Most definitely.
A very short while later, the Klingon returned, two rather large glasses perched expertly on his still immobile weapon.
"That's quite a bat'telh you've got there," Scully commented as she reached for a drink. She sputtered a little after taking a hefty swallow. Her companion patted her on the back gently with his right hand.
"I am Kaleth."
"Right," she nodded. "And I'm Uhura--if she were a pale red-headed Irishwoman."
'Kaleth' laughed, sending a chill down Scully's spine. His voice was just so sexy. Besides, she'd always been intrigued by Klingons, their strict code of honor, their amazing self-control.
Against her better judgment, Scully drank two more glasses of the potent 'blood wine' while talking with Kaleth. She was just getting ready to leave when she saw Mulder, looking quite rumpled in his costume, enter at the other side of the room. With a strumpet from the secretarial pool on his arm.
"Well, looks like he got to come as Kirk," she mused darkly to herself. Scully did not begrudge Mulder his date, but she was a little miffed that he hadn't told her he was bringing one. She resented being made the third wheel in any situation.
Her companion mumbled something Scully didn't hear. Bolstered by her liquid courage, she turned back to him, affecting a sly smile.
"So, tell me," she purred, her hand reaching out, "do Klingons usually have a name for their bat'telh?" She touched the shiny metal delicately with the tip of her index finger, tracing the intricate patterns inscribed there.
"Uh, I don't, um, think so," Kaleth choked out. "At least I, uh, don't."
"Hmmm." She pursed her lips thoughtfully as she continued to caress the large weapon. "I think I'll name yours..." Here she smiled impishly.
Kaleth laughed uproariously. "Pogo it is."
Scully's expression became more serious. "Is your qutluch..." she paused, leaning toward his ear, "sshhhiny?" she exhaled.
--five minutes later--
Mulder had thought he'd seen Scully over by the refreshment table, talking with a Klingon of all things, but he was positive he was mistaken.
Whoever was wearing that outfit was definitely not his partner, but oh did he wish she were.
He wasn't really surprised that Scully hadn't shown up. She really didn't go for--
Wait a minute. That was Scully's laugh, but where was she?
Mulder walked slowly across the room, listening intently while looking for his partner.
He was just about to give up when he heard it again. A slight muffled giggle, followed by a deep growl and a yip.
Mulder noticed that a large curtain in the corner was rustling subtly.
"Whatever happened to 'utbe' bel?" questioned Scully's voice. "I mean--umm that's nice--aren't you Klingons supposed to shun, oooh...pleasure?"
"I never said I was a good Klingon," came the baritone reply. "Besides, a warrior has to *mean* it when he," a gasp, "performs, an, hmmmm, act."
"Scully?" Mulder called, not really believing what he was hearing.
Scully jumped out from behind the curtain, pulling it to behind her.
"M-m-Mulder! What did...? I mean, um, hey." Her hair was mussed and her lips were swollen.
As Mulder continued his inspection of her dishevelment, she giggled, "Or should I say nuqneH?"
"Okay Scully, where did you learn to speak Klingon? And--wait, don't answer yet." He held up his hand to forestall her reply. "Just when did you start *giggling*?"
"I...I had some, um, blood wine and then, um--" she stopped. "Ram meqmey, Mulder," she stated defiantly. "Motives are insignificant. It's
Halloween, I'm here to see the wide world, remember?" She started laughing outright. "And boy did I see it!"
Mulder studiously ignored the bite marks on her neck and shoulders to comment, "Scully, you've got a run in your pantyhose."
"Thanks, Mulder. I really should be more careful. NaDev tlhInganpu' tu'lu'."
"Yeah. Ooookay." He smiled. "For what it's worth, Scully, I'm glad you didn't dress up as Spock."
He waggled his eyebrows, causing her to erupt with another peal of laughter. As the two of them walked away, she heard a murmur from behind the curtain.
"batlh Daqawlu'taH, devotchka."
Notes: Apologies to those experts who assuredly cringed at my Klingon usage. pIch vIghajbe'! Okay, it is, but I'm just a novice, so you'll
forgive me. Right? <g>
**naDev tlhInganpu' tu'lu' There are Klingons around here.
Here's the challenge --
1. Between now and Sunday night at 11:59 p.m., write and post your challenge story.