Novels The Damascus Files In The Interest of Science Other Stories A Deafening Silence Finding Zuzu's Petals Into The Mystic Je T'aime Knockin' On Heaven's Door Knowing Korena, Korena Matthew 19:14 Nightwing Sweet Dreams Symbiosis A Texas History Lesson This Could Be Heaven,   or This Could Be Hell Timepieces Your Soul in My Heart Other Info About Kat Linkage Feedback   Sweet Dreams Text Only Ratings: PG-13 at most. Categories: Songfic. Minor Mulder-angst. Humor...well, I laughed. Of course, I have post-season blues and writer's block right now, so I'm easily entertained. Spoilers: None Summary: An injured, DRUGGED Mulder has a sweet dream. "I was born in the wagon of a travelin' show My mama used to dance for the money they'd throw Papa would do whatever he could Preach a little gospel, sell a couple bottles of Doctor Good." I was drugged. That's what I gotta tell her the next time I see her. I never would have told her my dream if I hadn't been drugged. She's never asked before, what I dream. And I must admit, most of my dreams are not like this one. But, if I had told her of any of my other dreams I wouldn't be in this kind of trouble...no..., if I had told her one of those, she'd probably try to get me a psyche evaluation. Now, with this one, I've just confirmed her beliefs that I am a pervert. It all started with her coming to see me here at the hospital. They've still got me on some heavy duty narcotics. I sleep most of the time. And I have some pretty strange dreams with these pills. I was sleeping when she came up. I was just coming out of the dream, opening my eyes and I saw her. "That ain't tactics, honey, that's just the beast in me..." I murmured thinking I was still in my dream. She burst out laughing which brought me instantly, if not completely awake. She stood chuckling by my bedside, and when she saw I was at least partly coherent she quizzed me on my awakening statement. I told her that I had fallen asleep listening to that old Cher song and had the weirdest dream. Because I was out of my mind on pain killers, given, (I must remind her the next time I see her), because I suffered an injury in the line of duty, I explained, telling her my dream... I was walking up a road. It was hot. A steamy, Southern night. I had taken off my coat, slinging it over my shoulder as I trudged along the heavily rutted dirt path. Hearing the sound of a wagon behind me, I moved to the side of the road to let it pass. I saw, to my surprise, it was a colorful chariot of an itinerant proprietor of medicinal remedies. A perfect opportunity was at hand to see if I could gain employment. With my silver tongue I could sell anything. I stepped a bit on to the road and waved my hands to flag the cart down. It stopped. The horse was so close, I reached out a hand to pet the animal. "Hello," I waved, flashing my most charming grin. The man handling the rig, was a disheveled, nefarious sort. He was dressed in a spiffy three piece suit that appeared to have seen better days. He had the look of an Irishman, once a dandy but now down on his luck. Perhaps he imbibed too much of his tonic. "Y'all headin' west?" I asked, making my accent smooth Southern style. At that moment a head peeped from the curtain behind the driver. It was a young woman, a colleen, beautiful, with long auburn hair and silky ivory skin. She peered out at me with distrust so I flashed her my most winning smile and got a shy, virginal grin for my efforts. Papa...I assumed that was who the driver was, noticed the exchange but said nothing. He only flicked the reins, spit a bit of juice out the corner of his mouth and continued to study me. Finally, with a nod to the seat next to him, he spoke, "Goin' to Memphis." I grinned happily, and bounded up beside him. I happened to catch the lassie's eyes as I climbed aboard. They were just as I expected, a clear sky blue, twinkling with a touch of the devil, but with nothing but pure innocence at the soul. With a wink that made her quickly shut the curtain, I settled into my seat on the rough hewn plank. This was going to be a very interesting adventure... "Mulder," Scully interrupted, her voice low and controlled, "Is this going where I think this is going..." It should have been a warning, but hey, I was drugged... "Wait, Scully, it gets really good...It was so real..." We stopped by a river to camp for the night. Dr. Good, the proprietor of the medicine show was quite a talker. He explained his business had experienced several disasters of late. (One being tarred and feathered in Montgomery). And yes, he could use the services of a tall, strapping, handsome, smooth-talking, Southern boy to woo the ladies and con the Gentlemen. Since I was in the South, I was Southern enough to fit the bill. All the other criteria I was born with. Doctor Good's Traveling Medicine Show & Apothecary had hired its newest employee. The little colleen, whose name was Kathleen, served us our meal of beans and hardtack (what is this stuff)? I could smell lilac sachet each time she came near, a heady scent in the hot, August night. Papa hunkered down and drifted to sleep by the fire. I wandered down to the river, to wash the days dirt and sweat away. That's when I saw her standing there, knee deep in the water. Soft moonlight kissed her pale skin making it shimmer; tiny beads of water made it glisten. The damp tendrils of her hair caressed her neck, and I was amazed to watch her sway to some inner song. She danced on the river bank, a Celtic sprite, free and wild. She was a pure, hedonistic siren, and of course my body responded. She must have caught my movement, for she sprang up the side of the grassy bank, grabbed her colorful gypsy dress off the tree where she'd hung it, and scurried back to camp. My bath, was uneventful but the cool water helped me so I could sleep. We arrived in Tupelo the next day, and after setting up shop I began my spiel -- "Step right up and hear the news, that's right, Ladies and Gents, come on up here and hear my testimonial...Before I met Dr Good and tasted his nectar of health and vitality I was a thin, shell of a man, racked with consumption and ague. My wife left me, I lost my farm, turned to alcohol and the company of loose women. But I saw the light...I SAW THE LIGHT...when Dr. Good picked me up off the street and gave me some of his magical elixir. Ladies and Gentlemen, it cures all that ails you, consumption, ague, dropsy, piles, croup and colic for the babies...Ladies it makes the pain of the monthlies disappear and fine sir, yes you...if you've taken the diseases that follow wild women...you've found a miracle...Now step right up and get you a bottle of Dr. Good's Tonic of Life, only one thin dime...yessiree, one-tenth of a green back...that's it, sir....thank you, ma'am...and now lets watch our pretty little Kathleen dance...this lass was raised on the stuff...! " We took the money and ran, camping just right on the Tennessee border. I followed her that night when she made her way down to the river, and watched as she stood on the bank to remove her frock, hanging it once again on a tree branch. She strolled smoothly into the water and began to soap herself, allowing her hands to smooth skin that looked to be as soft as down. She bent to scoop water to rinse, and as it flowed over her she looked to be a goddess sculpted out of pure ivory by an ancient master. Finishing, she tiptoed to the bank and her clothing. I stepped from my hiding place, and took her in my arms. She fought at first, but as I tasted her cool moist skin she melted. "Why sir, why do you use such tactics with me? " She said no, but her body spoke yes. "That's not tactics, honey, that's just the beast in me." "And I guess that's when you woke me up," I explained. Scully never said a word; I couldn't even read her expression. It looked something like shock and I guess maybe anger, because she left. I haven't heard from her since. But, like I said, it wasn't my fault...I was drugged. Funny, the nurse just brought me a package. It's a tape. I popped it in and it's Bob Seeger singing "Night Moves". With it are the lyrics to the song with a couple of minor changes and a note, not signed, but I do recognize the hand - - "Mulder, a lullaby...sweet dreams - - I was a little too tall Could have used a few pounds Tight pants, points hardly renown She was a red haired beauty with big blue eyes And points of her own, sitting way up high Way up firm and high... Out past the cornfields where the woods got heavy Out in the back seat of my '60 chevy Workin' on mysteries without any clues Workin' on our night moves Tryin' to make some front page drive-in news Workin' on our night moves In the summertime In the sweet summertime, summertime ... Talk to you tomorrow." THE END DISCLAIMER: "The X-Files" and its characters are owned by FOX and its related entities. All rights reserved. This website, its operators and any content on this site relating to "The X-Files" are not authorized by Fox. No copyright infringement is intended. This site created and maintained by Wasatch Design and Consulting.