Built Stronger to Last Longer
"Here we are," Mulder said and opened the hotel room door.
"Mulder, what is this?" Skinner blinked, just in case it would make a difference.
"This is the Truck Fantasy Room." Mulder dropped the key on a dresser made of packing crates.
"Do me a favour," Skinner said, "and don't tell me how much you paid for it." There was a truck, an actual three-quarter ton truck, in the middle of the room. With a mattress in the back.
"I tried to book the Amish Room, but it's very popular. Anyhow, this one comes with a complimentary case of beer." Mulder dropped the tailgate and climbed into the truck bed. He bounced a few times. "Not bad," he said. "I hope the shocks are good."
Skinner sighed. "Why are we here, Mulder?"
"I don't know about you," Mulder said. "But my apartment has been surveiled so often, I finally just installed a webcam." He slid down onto the floor. "Though if you want to make a video, I know a guy who knows a guy. We could make some good money."
Mulder walked over to Skinner. "You ask that every time." He looked Skinner in the eye. "I know why I'm here. If you don't, then maybe you should go."
Skinner glanced away. There was always something uncanny about Mulder's stare. It made him feel uneasy. But he couldn't look away for long. His eyes always ended up back on Mulder, no matter how frustrated, how angry, how frightened Mulder made him.
He took off his glasses and put them on the dresser. "I know why I'm here," he said.
"Good," Mulder said and they looked at each other for a moment longer. Then Mulder grinned. "Okay, you be the truck driver and I'll be the hitchhiker who'll do anything for a ride."
"Forget it, Mulder," Skinner said.
"Can we at least sit in the cab and play the radio?"
"Only if I get to drive," Skinner said. And then they kissed.
The shocks were excellent.