Tiny Bermuda, isolated in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean is already a travel favourite, with its pink beaches, pastel-hewed houses and fantastic diving, but with the arrival of next year’s America’s Cup - its popularity is set to soar.
April 1st at the Pines household must be similar to an XK-class scenario
She hadn’t been in Gravity Falls long, but Naima had already been told to ‘expect the unexpected’, whatever that meant. As far as she was concerned, 'the unexpected’ was to be expected everywhere these days - she hadn’t used to have to buy gnome repellent for her garden, or sell people buying vacation packages Bermuda Triangle insurance, or any of the thousands of things that had become commonplace in the years after the Incident. Just how much weirder could Gravity Falls be?
“Much, much weirder” turned out to be the answer. Between the cults, the (generally surprisingly friendly) supernatural creatures, the random magical storms, and, of course, the town’s own idiosyncratic calendar of holidays (why did they celebrate Halloween twice a year?), Naima had her hands full just trying to adjust. Nobody seemed to want to buy simple vacation packages, either; it was all 'can you get me to Machu Pichu in time for the summer solstice?’ and 'have they opened hotels in that mermaid city yet?’ and 'I need a flight direct to Columbia, like, two hours ago’ (although that was just Stanford Pines, she’d been warned about him and knew what to expect).
After nearly a year in Gravity Falls, though, Naima thought she was finally, finally starting to get a handle on how things worked in the small town. Which was why it came as such a surprise when there was a sudden burst of activity at the travel agency just before April began. Just about every single one of Gravity Falls’ inhabitants seemed to want to be out of town April first. They didn’t seem to care much where they went, or when their vacations started or ended, just so long as they were out of town before midnight on the first and didn’t come back until midnight on the second. One woman broke down sobbing in front of Naima when Naima mentioned that all flights were booked for that evening, and insisted Naima put her on an earlier flight, even though it meant adding a full week to her vacation. When Naima asked what was so important about being out of town that day, the woman just gave her a haunted look and said, “It’s April Fools’ Day.”
After that encounter, Naima started to wonder whether she shouldn’t make plans to evacuate as well. She shook the feeling off, however, reassuring herself that, even if Gravity Falls was particularly weird, its inhabitants were also remarkably superstitious, and…she hated to admit it, but…not actually all that bright. It was probably just some local tradition that had been blown out of proportion by time and superstition. She shouldn’t have anything to worry about.
Still, she was extra careful about setting up the wards around her house on the evening of March thirty-first.
By the morning of April second, Naima had already made plans to go visit her dear grandmother in Calcutta for next April Fools’ Day. She hoped halfway around the world was far enough to go to get away.
Hi! I was wondering, the 20 minutes post their first time. What was it like? What did they said to each other. Was Scully kind of embarrassed? Was Mulder trying to be cool and joking around? Will you tell me, please?
Right after it’s over, for several minutes all they can do is get their breathing under control. And then there’s an awkward silence as they both realize the import of what they’ve just done.
Scully suddenly feels strangely shy, realizing she’s naked and wrapped in Mulder’s arms finally. Finally.
Mulder wonders if she really came or if she was faking it to be kind to him. He can still taste her on his lips.
She has to pee but she’s afraid to break the spell because she doesn’t know what will happen next. He kisses her at her temple and she closes her eyes and smiles.
“Are you okay?” he asks, pulling her closer to him. He breathes in the scent of her hair, her sweat, the last traces of her perfume at her temple.
“Mmm,” she says. The speech center of her brain has taken a brief vacation to Bermuda. She can still feel the pleasure in her legs, her feet, her toes, even.
“Are we okay?” He’s almost, but not quite, afraid of the answer.
She rubs her cheek against his chest like an affectionate cat. Scully will never admit to him how many times she’s fantasized doing just that.
“Are we?” He’s impatient.
In the dark of Mulder’s bedroom she rolls her eyes. Of course they’re okay. They’ll always be okay.
Her answer is a kiss. Just one kiss, a promise, a pact, a declaration of all she wishes she could say but cannot.