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blackbird-brewster · 9 months

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Hiiiiii Kit I have been thinking more and more about sapphic CM/X-Files crossovers and how much I need some Scully/Lewis in my life. What do you think their ship name would be? And if you were going to write about them, what kind of fic would you write?

Also I’m very glad you came back to writing and that we’ve become such good friends this past year! ❤️❤️❤️

Waaaaaa, I love you Bex!!! Thanks for the ask. I'm so glad we're friends too!!!!

Honestly, ever since you mentioned this the other day I keep thinking about it toooooo. I'm such a slut for old-school OTP ship names vs pormanteau ship names. So might I suggest:

OTP: Two Good Doctors OTP: Tol and Smol (a classic) OTP: Be Gay Solve Crime OTP: Science Lesbians I'm sure we could workshop it. I'd LOVE a crossover where Lewis runs into Scully on the elevator at Quantico and they have a cute chat. Tara asks where Scully works and she's like 'Uhhh, in the basement' (presses basement button on elevator) Tara legit thinks this woman is doing a 'bit', because she's only been at Quantico a short time, and she's fairly sure no one works in the basement. (In this situation, Tara is an FBI psychologist -- non-BAU).

Time goes on, she has an appointment with a pair of agents who can't get along with each other. Honestly, she's s forensic psychologist, yet here she is being a middle-school counceler having to tell trained FBI agents to 'play nice'. And in walks elevator woman and some guy who looks like he hasn't slept in five years. (Remember how CM did the Mulder/Scully joke when the BAU was reassigned during the Barnes arc!?!?!? I've always wanted this fic) Tara learns the woman is name Dana Scully, Dr Dana Scully. The man is Fox Mulder. And turns out, they really do work in the basement.

Tara does her best to help them get through their conflict, apparently Mulder is kind of a loose canon, and Scully seems very level-headed. Tara ultimately asks 'why wouldn't you just transfer or get a new partner?' and Mulder/Scully laugh at the concept. Afterwards, Tara has Scully stay for a minute and she's like 'Look, I won't put it on the report but are you and him....together?" Scully gets instantly defensive about it, says something like, "We always have each other's backs." Tara shakes her head and says, "Yeah, but are you....dating...him??" "Why do you care?" Scully is absolutely missing the point here. "Because, I was hoping you were single...." Tara says. "Oh." "yeah." "Oh, right... well, yes, I'm single," Scully says. (With that cute little half-smile she gives Mulder when she thinks he's being annoyingly endearing) They'd be impossibly cute together with that nine inch height difference. I'd sob. Two very amazing badass FBI women, ugh, my heart!!!!! My two fave characters of all time, this is so overly specific to me.

BONUS MATERIAL: and old Emily/Scully crossover I wrote in 2016 [X]

Ghosts of the Past

When Scully went missing her mom had a head stone made. Which lead me to come up with the best AU/cross over ever…

For shits and gigs, Mulder had the head stone placed in the cemetery . (Because face it, he’s a child) Scully objected at first but secretly goes and visits once a year because it gives her some sort of inner peace.

Fast forward to 2012. Scully is on the metro on the way to visit her head stone for it’s 18th birthday (she brings a pile of scratch offs because it is now old enough to gamble.)

She strikes up conversation to the woman next to her. Scully feels like she’s seen the woman before but can’t quite place where.

Scully’s stop comes up and she’s surprised when the other woman stands to leave as well. They continue their conversation during the short walk to the cemetery.

The woman chuckles, “I guess we have more in common than we thought.”

Scully, panics, she definitely doesn’t want to admit to this attractive stranger that she is morbidly visiting her own grave. So she fakes a phone call and waves good bye to the other woman.

Once the coast is clear, Dana goes to her grave and does her yearly moment of silence to think about how her life has changed in those many years since the X-Files. She’s peacefully reflecting when a hand taps her on the shoulder.

“Sorry, I’m not follow you…it’s just…I never caught your name.” the smiling woman said.

Scully now had two options, either lie about her name and forgo the potential of getting to know this woman or telling the truth and hoping the woman wouldn’t notice the head stone she was sitting by.

“Dana,” she stuttered. “Dana Scully.”

The woman shook Scully’s hand happily and began to reply when she noticed the headstone. She read it aloud, “Dana Katherine Scully. 1964-1994…”

Scully sighed, expecting the woman to run screaming. (She knew Mulder would get a kick out of the who fiasco when she relayed the event later) But instead, the brunette burst into laughter.

“Come here,” she chuckled as she pulled Dana off the ground and lead her a few rows over.

The brunette pointed at the head stone in front of them, while wiping tears from her eyes from laughter.

“Emily Prentiss?” Dana read from the stone.

Emily held her hand out, “Nice to meet you.”

Emily explained that she worked for the FBI and had faked her own death but had been adamant about keeping the head stone. Scully doubled over with laughter and explained she too, was an FBI agent who had been prematurely marked as dead.

After that day the two became best friends and ended up dating.

#bex #reply post #my writing #tara lewis #dana scully #cm headcanon #crossover #anniversary asks

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sleepyscully · 3 years

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smol/tol

#LOOK HOW SMOL #I LOVE SMOL SCULLY #dana scully is smol #but can totally kick your ass so watch out #fox mulder #smol/tol #dana scully #the x files #txf #my one billion screenshots

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bellatrixxue · 3 years

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Xue’s Supernatural Dare: Wendigo (S1 EP2)

Hello, everyone? How did everyone feel about the finale? Yes? Yes? Oh. Oh. Oh my. Oh, dear.

Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeell that half-assed homophobic chicken-shit fuckbucket’s not gonna stop me, since I strapped myself onto this roller coaster already and I promised I’m not getting out until the ride’s over, so here we go, wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Also, those who are in this roller coaster with me, ready? Tag list is: @fangirlxwritesx67 @amazingiam00 @kalliravenne @indecisive20something @2musiclover2 @impossibletosleepthrough @there-must-be-a-lock @wingedcatninja @arvit

Oh my gods this recap is so cheesy I actually can make a fondue out of it. 2000s, everybody!

A WHOLE MINUTE AND A HALF FOR THAT FONDUE

FUCKJUMPSCARETITLEFUCKYOU

So we’re starting the episode with the murder scene first, eh? Is that gonna be a trend?

Oh come on, Chads, you’re out in nature and you’re playing video games? Absorb the nature...before it absorbs you!

Waitwait. Holy shit is that...is that Cory Monteith? Oh, bless his soul...

If the wendigo eats his dick as he’s peeing I’m immediately giving Jensen Ackles $100. For no real reason, I just feel like giving him money for already carrying the show on his back.

I can’t tell if it did or not, so I’m not paying yet.

Aw, Sammy...

"I should have told you the truth.” *Vine voice* BUT YOU DIDN’T

FUCKYOUINTHEASSHOhnightmare. Nightmare. So did he visit her at her grave or not? I need answers.

A week? Goddamn. Poor thing. That man-eating tree’s fucking good at his job, man.

“There’s nothing there, it’s just...woods,” Sam, I don’t know if Jess’s death hit you hard or if you got into law school by eating some ancient dick and/or pussy instead of earning that high score fair and square, but the woods “in the middle of nowhere” (your words) are known to be one of the top places full of weird-ass creatures. Even kindergartners know that.

Ehehehehehehehehe he’s so smol next to his lil bro my lil shit

At least you’re coming up with decent covers this time. No Agent Mulder and Scully ruining things for you this time around.

“Bull” oop-

Oh Dean’s a smoooooooooth operator. Good going, buddy.

AND HE GOT A COPY OF THAT DOCUMENT TEAM DEAN TEAM DEAN

Oh that death really got to Sam. I hope he doesn’t turn out to be a trigger-happy psycho. Or eat the man-eating tree and become one himself.

Oh, Haley’s a cutie! Which one’s her brother? Cory? Discount Enrique Iglesias?

Do you have a card for EVERY profession, Dean? And how do I get them too?

That is a very pretty car. I bet they wasted half the budget on that thing.

Okay, sonny boy, little bro, Broseidon, calm down.

Ah, fuck, Haley and Broseidon is gonna go into the woods, that’s more heads to worry about.

How the fuck does Sam find information this fast? I’m impressed, I take five hours to get to one article for my research paper. Or maybe I’m just lazy. So he really earned his law school interview without having to eat dick and pussy, huh.

Every 23 years? What is this, Pennywise? Are we going to see the wendigo do his best Tim Curry do his best scary clown impression? Honk honk?

“Whatever that thing is, it can move.” And the sun rises on the East, Sammy. Why are you so smart and dumb at the same time? Is this his character trait? It might grow on me.

Ahhh, so Sam’s go-to move at interrogation is doing puppy dog eyes and sympathize with the person. He’d make a good lawyer, shame that man-eating tree.

Go Grandpa Exposition, go!

Go Grandpa Exposition, go, give us information and none at all!

OH GEEZ THAT SCAR. PENNYWISE WENDIGO IS VICIOUS.

Skinwalker, Back Dog...Ooh, those all sound cool! I hope we get to see them soon!

‘Corporeal’ doesn’t sound like a real word, but then again, English doesn’t sound like a real language. Sorry. Moving on.

Sam’s gonna eat the wendigo with that attitude, Jesus Christ.

AND HIS BROTHER, AT THIS RATE. If the real villain turns out to be inside Sam all along I’m gonna flip. Is that why women keep dying and burning on ceilings where he sleeps? Is he secretly Lucifer’s spawn or something?

“Oh sweetheart I don’t wear shorts”. They queer-coded him from the start and they tried to make you believe he was straight for fifteen seasons straight? And some people bought that?

Oh, crap, another crappy death treatment for Cory before he got into Glee...No, I wasn’t into Glee, I just watched a few episodes and I might hate Rachel Berry...And Lea Michele...ahem...

Dean is totally flirting with Roy shut upppppppp

OOP AND THERE ROY GOES OH THE SEXUAL TENSION IS HIGH IN THESE WOODS TODAY

“It’s probably the most honest I’ve been with a woman. Ever.” See. Bi. Bi bi bi.

So...why the coordinates, Daddy Negan? Is this a portal to Hell? A place where man-eating trees grow?

*carefully places death flag on Roy*

Ooooh the campsite is very...haunted house-y. You know what I’m saying?

That’s not Discount Enrique Iglesias, but Pennywise wendigo, yes? Those things can mimic human voices, right?

*Google searches*...There are so many versions of this tale I can’t even confirm or deny it. Dammit.

Maybe Pennywise wendigo just wants some snacks and a nice phone and GPS? Maybe he misses his family in uh, Canada or something?

Daddy Negan’s journal is a e s t h e t i q u e .

I’m so sorry, but the way Sammy smirks as he speaks with those dark, dark voids for eyes? My boy’s a demon. He’s a demon, I’m telling you.

At least Haley has some sense to her. *puts another death flag on Roy*

*PUTS YET ANOTHER DEATH FLAG ON ROY*

True, that. What the heck is Daddy Negan up to with all of this?

“Saving people, hunting things, the family business!” Okay, the way Dean said it gave me chills.

I can actually empathize with Sam here...As whiny and bitchy as he is, he has his reasons to be this way. I guess if I were in his shoes, I’d be less of a Dean and more of a Sam, too. We deal with our losses quite similarly.

Ah, the brotherly bonding moments like these little talks make the show worth it. It’s so heartwarming.

Pennywise wendigo! I didn’t miss you, why’re you here to burst my happy bubble?

I’m starting to see a slight parallel between Haley and Broseidon and Dean and Sammy. Hmm.

Nice meeting you, Roy. Zoop you go.

Haley and Broseidon are taking this rather well, I’m glad they do.

Okay, actual exposition time, thank you.

Whoa, Broseidon speaks! Donner Party! Please don’t remind me of that! Those poor people!

Hibernation and food storage. Delightful, just delightful.

TORCHING? *CALLS RAMMSTEIN*

Somehow, not being able to see the wendigo is scarier to me than what I will probably see itself. Limited budget horror can actually work well.

Oh, dear, Roy literally did a death drop. Badum tissssssssss.

FUCK IT TOOK DEAN THE ONLY CHARACTER I CARE ABOUImean I love you too, Sam! Come on, let’s find him before it’s too late!

A trail of M&Ms! Yes, Broseidon! And Hansel and Gretel refercalled it. Sammy, you and I share the same wavelength?

SHITSHITTHEYTRIPPEDANDFELLINTHEFUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK

Thank the gods the Pennywise wendigo kept them right there. Chances.

DISCOUNT ENRIQUE IGLESIAS IS STILL ALIVE GEEZ BUT ALSO PHEW

Ah, Dean Winchester, I love you so much that I can’t even begin to describe it.

Also how convenient that the flare guns are there. Deus ex machina!

Haley would bode well as a hunter, look at her courage, her will. There are more hunters around than Daddy Negan and the brothers, right?

Yeah, seeing the actual wendigo makes me less scared of it now. It’s unnerving, but still.

TEAM DEAN YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHAW

Graphics are...alright, but it’s the thought that counts!

Running with the grizzly bear story. Smart Broseidon. Ben. Sorry, you deserve to be called by your real name. I think with practice they could become good hunters, along with their Discount Enrique Iglesias brother! Is there a fanfiction for that? Can I write it now?

...

I AM WILLING TO DIE TO PROTECT DEAN WINCHESTER I

Haley’s a lesbian, that’s why she kissed him on the cheek only. Headcanoned. Also I have a crush on her, she’s really pretty? Like? Heart eyes???

Ah, the siblings parallels again. Let’s hope neither of the two brothers end up in the bed like that.

“Man, I hate camping.” Really. Really really. Really.

“I’m driving”

...

SAM WINCHESTER I’M SORRY I EVER SPOKE ILL OF YOU I WILL PROTECT YOU WITH MY LIFE TOO I PROMISE YOU I WILL

It’s just a sassy bisexual brother and his little snide bisexual brother on the road to kill evil creatures and find their father and I love this show? Help? Help???

I really, really see the charm of Supernatural now! I’m fully invested in both brothers and their story, and I’m cheering them both on! Let’s get Daddy Negan back and get rid of that man-eating tree once and for all!

Six stars out of five!

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

This dare is introducing me to a whole new world, and I really, really am glad I took that jump a few days ago, man!

Thank you everyone for reading my ramblings, and I’ll see you in the day after with the next review! Thank you for sticking with me! Buh-bye!

- Xue

#xue's supernatural dare #spn #supernatural #dean winchester #jensen ackles #sam winchester #jared paladecki #text #i had a really bad day today with my constant pain and aching from the chemo #but this really brought genuine smiles to my face!#what a good show #what a wonderful show #how the FUCK did they fuck it up later #well #i guess i'll find out when i get there lmao

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stargatelov3r · 3 years

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I felt tagged by @atlantis-scribe :)

nickname: Asile, Ash

zodiac: cancer, isn’t that fun

height: 5′2, I’m smol

last movie I saw: The X Files: I Want To Believe (I really liked it)

last thing I googled: this will sound pretentious but I don’t use google most of the times, I use ecosia) and the thing i searched was “Dagoo x files” because I keep notes about the x files while I’m watching the episodes. It started because I had to scream somewhere when no one was around who could scream with and I’m still doing it

favorite musician: if i knew... changes all the time but here are some musicians i circle back to every now and then: Leonard Cohen, Johnny Cash, Joan Baez, Cher, Scorpions, Nickleback, LP (and more)

song stuck in my head: The X Files theme

other blogs: @janewaystolemyheart for star trek @scullys-baggy-suits for x files and there are more but i’m not telling you ;)

blogs following: 329. I miss a lot of stuff…

amount of sleep: either too much or too little. It really depends. Lately maybe 7-8 hours but sometimes 9-10 hours (i think my ideal are 9-9,5h)

lucky number: numbers don’t bring me luck

what am I wearing: blue t-shirt and comfy pants and mismatched socks

dream job: running a queer book café

dream trip: Canada, especially Vancouver and British Columbia where they filmed most of Stargate :)

languages: German, English, tiny bit of French

favorite food: pasta :)

play an instrument: harp and tiny bit of ukulele

favorite song: *le big sigh* it changes all the time. Currently maybe “The Surgery” from The X Files: IWTB soundtrack or “Broken” by UNCLE (which i also know from the x files. I really love the x files, did you notice?)

random fact: my haircolor is pink right now and might become blue next month

tagging: you (if you want :)

#tag game #this was fun

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dreamingofscully · 4 years

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6x20. “Three of a Kind” - X-Files Rewatch

“My country is hopeful and innocent; young again. Young in spirit. My fellow citizens trust their elect officials, never once having been betrayed by them. My government is truly ‘of the people, by the people, for the people.’” - Byers, describing his dream

I do love me some Lone Gunmen. But this episode is all about the many wondrous facial expressions that drugged!Scully makes.

Frohike’s name tag says Fillipé. He’s also definitely the wisest of the bunch (“She’s gonna kick our ass.” - referring to their trick on Scully.)

I bet Scully was disappointed when she got to Las Vegas and it wasn’t Mulder being romantic. 😟 I bet he WOULD ask her out there, go see some Elvis impersonators, go on some rides, and camp their hotel room for the majority of the time.

Scully in the autopsy bay is adorable. Trying to move the autopsy table that doesn’t move. Her description of cause of death. Calling Langy “cutie”. Is this confirmation that Scully is a giggly drunk then? I love how clueless Langly is - he has no idea that there’s anything wrong. 😆

OF COURSE Frohike recognizes her laugh. How much time have M&S spent over there? How many times has he caught Mulder and Scully in a moment where Mulder makes her laugh like that? Even before they get involved. 🤧

Calling Frohike “‘Hickey”. Her high-pitched voice. Surrounded by men, flirting shamelessly. Scully’s blouse is unbuttoned wayyyy farther than usual. Giggly AND horny drunk, gotcha. Mulder, you are one lucky, lucky man.

Smacking Fletcher’s ass as revenge. Even though she doesn’t remember...

Frohike’s “Why would the government want to turn Scully into a bimbo?”. I should probably be offended but I just CRACK UP when he says this.

In the hotel room, pinching Frohike’s ass. When Suzanne is examining her she says “hi” and its SO CUTE. Her facial expressions this scene are fucking priceless. So here they are:

Scully’s expression when Frohike calls her “party girl”. She’s so smol. ❤️

And then… Scully’s “Aw man, I am gonna kick their asses.”

Where are Mulder and Scully at this point in their relationship?

It is early in their relationship so they are still navigating their time together. Scully needs time alone occasionally, not because she's unsure, but because she's so used to being independent. Otherwise they are spending pretty much all their time together fucking like bunnies.

#xfiles #x-files rewatch #x-files #x files rewatch #msr #mulder and scully #fox mulder #dana scully #season 6 #vince gilligan #(+other writers)

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ageless-aislynn · 4 years

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How about a Dana Scully/Gillian Anderson appreciation post, just ‘cause? :D (With some Mulder/Scully because... yes? ;) )

D’aww, they were such babies here!

Best reaction faces ever or BEST REACTION FACES EVER? ;)

Smol and tol! *draws sparkly pink hearts everywhere*

I love that this looks like a time travel episode where they’re meeting their younger selves! ;)

In sync turn around, FTW! ;)

And she could do it, too! ;)

♥♥♥

#the x-files #agent dana scully #dana scully #gillian anderson #mulder x scully #msr

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alexa-crowe · 3 years

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I finished season one of TXF yesterday and............................................. I decided to take a break to finish the other three fics I’ve started and recuperate from the roller coaster ride that the first fucking season put me through. Memorable things that happened while I was watching season one:

The MSR setup from moment one, which I wasn’t expecting because I’ve been so used to the modern couples that usually have first-impression friction with each other.

I have a smol crush on Gillian Anderson, of course.

On the car ride home from a traumatizing GI-related experience and talking about MSR with my mom to cope: [me] They make my heart happy! *time skip* [my mom] And we all liked Scully because most women on TV were twigs and she wasn’t. Very memorable.

My parents finding out that I’m watching TXF at different moments but having basically the same reaction: *gasp!* You’re watching The X-Files without me? I love TXF! You should watch it with me!

Also, catch me being soft as I think about my parents spending their first New Year’s (idk if they actually spent it together but shhhhhh) together and watching “Millennium” because apparently they met in ’99!

Scully constantly smiling at Mulder’s antics. It’s okay, I’m not close to crying just because they’re immediately falling for each other. I’m not. I swear. I’m fine.

Me crying like 10 times while watching s1e13 because it reminded me of my unresolved grief over my grandpa’s death in 2017 and my fear of my parents not approving my decision to go into acting. Cue me bawling my eyes out at the end when Scully says that her dad’s proud of her because, “He’s my dad.” MJSGKDHJ

Mulder cupping Scully’s cheek and sending me through the roof because JB’s made me vicariously touch-starved. Related: the “tag your porn” scene because, well, more touching.

Just season one was a wild ride, and I can’t wait to watch season two once I finish my current line-up of fics!

#also i wasn't supposed to write any fics #sldhfkjshdg #and you can see how well that plan turned out #the x-files

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dayjobdracula · 4 years

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A Pirate’s Life for Me Ch. 12

Pairing: Stella/Scully

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Heere there be smut. Also some swords, some necessary conversations, and a trip to Tortuga. I know that updating this story is slow going, but it’s going. I love it and I’m determined to finish it.

Tagging @rey-thelast-jedi and @smol-scully because they’re the two people I know still keep up with this story and I suck at updating consistently.

Previous Chapters: Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11

On AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11405793/chapters/52477267

She wasn’t sure when it happened, but at some point, as Stella’s heart was tucked back beneath her ribcage, she began to bleed. Her chest had been hollow, her ribs pale, like they’d been left to bleach in the sun. Her heart fit straight into the hole. For a moment, her body was still. Then, blood spilled from the gaping wound like it hadn’t when John Jack shot her three times. And Stella, who leaned nonchalantly against the wall of her cabin finally tensed and groaned, as she remembered what pain felt like after ten years without it. She bit down on the linen Scully had given her and closed her eyes to the scene.

Scully clenched her jaw. It was easy enough to perform a surgery on Stella when she knew it wasn’t hurting her. But now, looking at the wound, the blood, what it had to be doing to Stella now that her heart was pumping life into her again, she swallowed bile in the back of her throat. She had to work fast.

“Mulder,” she snapped. He dropped to her side. His eyes were on the ground, afraid to look the carnage head-on. “Give her your hand.”

It was something she’d seen midwives do. Give the woman stick to bite on and a hand to squeeze through the pain. It couldn’t be that different, with what little doctor’s training she’d had. Mulder hesitantly offered his hand to Stella and she caught his wrist in a vice grip. Scully thought of what Anderson had told her—of the first time Stella had done this, singing ‘Hoist the Colours’ in her cabin, bearing the knife herself. She wondered if this was easier for Stella, or if it was harder, not to be alone in pain.

Scully pressed the wound closed as best she could. Stella’s open shirt stained red as she bled into the cabin. But as it left her, it thinned and lost its color, and Scully breathed the smell of salt as the ocean itself spilled from Stella’s veins. Mulder stared wide-eyed at the pool of water that now soaked into the knees of their trousers. He gaped at her, and Scully tried to focus. It was one thing, she knew, to believe in Davy Jones. It was another to see the Dutchman’s curse ebb away and a leave a living woman behind. To feel Stella’s body sew itself shut beneath her palms, the scar that once adorned her chest reform into a thick line. To see Stella breathe like she actually needed the air.

It seemed hours before Scully sat back on the cabin floor, her hands covered in seawater and her hair sticky with sweat. The iron tang of blood had long since faded into the air. Stella leaned against the wall, her chest bearing no open wound but another ugly scar across the first. Her eyes were closed, and she breathed evenly, and to Scully she seemed asleep. The stick was on the floor, bitten into two pieces. She had certainly earned the rest.

Craning her neck, not bothered to get up off the floorboards, she saw Mulder sitting in a dining chair. He snored softly, his head lolled to one side. She didn’t know when exactly he’d left the scene, but somewhere in the slow transition from blood to water, pain to rest, biting down to slow deliverance, he had grown tired. They all had, once it was clear Stella would live. Scully looked down at the knife in her hand. Yes, that was it. Slow deliverance. And she too fell asleep to the rock of the boat.

* * *

The days hummed by like the piano at a rowdy bar. She fell back into the routine of the Flying Dutchman, but this time it took hours of labor to keep the Dutchman sailing. They took turns at the wheel, hauled sails, prepared rigging, all of the tasks Padgett’s crew of trapped souls had once performed at the snap of Stella’s fingers. Mulder navigated them slowly back to Port Washington with a lucky tailwind nudging them along.

“We need a crew,” Scully huffed as she lowered the sails and the tattered Jolly Rodger. Their ship was tucked away near the Port of Tortuga, and they had prepared the barrels for fresh food and water. They waited only for sundown.

“I know.” Stella stood behind her, the taut rope wrapped around her fist. It took at least two to move a sail—all three of them in a heavy wind. But Mulder was high in the crow’s nest, studying his charts and presumably keeping a lookout. He needed those moments to himself, Scully suspected, and she didn’t blame him.

“Maybe the Ophelia is docked there again.” Even as she said it, she knew it was a long shot.

Still, Stella hummed wistfully. “Maybe,” she allowed. Her hand slipped over Scully’s. “Knot it like this,” she instructed, “with an extra turn, just to be sure it won’t come loose.”

“That’s now how my father did it,” Scully muttered.

“Pirate’s life,” Stella said matter-of-factly, as if that sufficed as an explanation. Then— “The Navy doesn’t need the extra turn. We do.”

“Psssshh,” said Scully. “Superstitions.” Mulder had yet to tease her mercilessly for her skepticism—no “I told you so” or “I was right about curses” since the day she’d rescued him. He was still solemn, and she supposed the danger and death were still too near for joking. His capture and the wearing months of his life had changed him irreversibly, but his mood was slowly lightening.

She still felt some way about the curse of the Dutchman. The first time she’d touched Stella’s skin after waking, she had nearly jumped at the warmth. The cold of death, the handed down name of Davy Jones had become such a part of the character that was Stella, that it was strange to see it gone. But now, without the ghostly hum of the Dutchman’s crew doing its duties, she sometimes forgot the change. She had kept the knife, just to remind herself it existed.

Stella’s rough hand on hers shook her. “Don’t just sit here worrying yourself until dark,” she murmured hoarsely. She tugged Scully’s hands off the rope and lifted them over her head.

It was an open invitation, impossible to resist lately. She shifted, encouraging Stella to pin her wrists against the mast and closed her eye to the feel of Stella’s body pressed against her. Stella was warm now, and Scully no longer shivered at the touch of her skin. She kissed hard and quick—it wasn’t always that way, but it was when they were outside. They didn’t feel untouchable anymore.

Stella unbuckled the scabbard from Scully’s waist and untucked her shirt, sliding her hands underneath the loose white linen. “Comfortable here?” She asked, running her fingers along the waist of Scully’s trousers.

“Comfortable enough,” she said breathily, “but a little discomfort is part of the fun.” There was something undeniably sexy about being pushed against a pole and ravished at some ungodly hour, with the slightest threat of being discovered. She blushed as Stella’s hand slipped into her trousers and teased her inner thigh.

“We should be quick,” she whispered.

Stella chuckled, her breath tickling Scully’s throat. “Who would catch us?.”

“Mulder might wake up.”

He won’t. But it’s the transgression, the risk-taking that makes her tingle.

“Then I suppose—”Stella pressed two fingers inside her.— “that we should hurry.” She pulsed, and Scully’s knees trembled. She locked her arms around the mast as Stella’s other hand slides behind her head to cushion it against the wood.

“Quick enough?” Stella asked, thumbing Scully’s clit. It was sudden and intense, sending a brief shock through her nerves.

“I don’t know,” Scully said between quick breaths. She leaned into Stella’s touch. Her head crooked forward, chin resting on Stella’s collarbones. She barely carried her own weight; it was Stella and the mast that held most of her up. “We might still be caught.”

“Oh?” Stella’s hand curled inside her, and she gasped. Then, Stella pulled away, angling her body so they were shoulder to shoulder. Stella’s forehead touched the cracking wood as she let her catch her breath, just for a second. They huffed unevenly and watched the hot mist rise. Scully closed her eye. She was still throbbing, still sensitive, and she moaned quietly.

Stella circled her labia, starting slow but speeding up before Scully had fully understood the feeling. She shivered and knew she was far gone. It was funny; Stella finished her so much quicker now that she was living. They acted touch-starved, despite the many nights they’d fallen into bed together before they reached the island. She wondered what Stella’s heart had changed about her body, that Scully felt but couldn’t see.

She cried out as Stella traced her clit, bracing herself on the pole. It was a sharp orgasm, dizzying but quick to subside, and her muscles trembled upon relax. She rested her forehead on Stella’s sternum. Stella withdrew her hand from Scully’s trousers and wrapped it around her waist instead. They stood out of alignment, not quite facing each other but tucked together at an angle like jigsaw pieces. Scully breathed heavily into Stella’s chest. She felt the scar brush her cheek.

When Scully had recovered, she had returned the favor of a quick orgasm. It had been loud and visceral, and when she finished, Stella tried to look into Scully’s eyes the way she always had but instead had thrown her head to the stars.

“The sex is better now,” Stella mused after, tossing her head Scully’s way and smirking impishly.

“What was it before?”

“I didn’t need it the way I had before the curse, or the way I do now.” She fiddled with the loose folds of Scully’s shirt, tucking them back into place. “I felt it more in the chest than between the thighs,” she quipped. But her face had turned almost grave.

These days, Stella was almost methodical in lovemaking, and rarely spoke but to ask if it was good. She always saw to Scully’s needs first, letting the heat and sweat of her love squirming beneath her bring her to the edge. Only then did she allow Scully to finish her, roughly and sloppily. And she’d let out a breath she’d been holding in for ages.

When they finally went to bed, sleep didn’t come. They sprawled on their backs, bone-tired but unable to rest. It was too hot in the cabin to lay in each other’s arms.

* * *

“Sail with me,” Stella murmured one day, almost absently. The noonday sun blazed. The Dutchman glided on a lucky tailwind, and Stella held a scope to her eye, hoping to catch Tortuga by sundown.

“Where?”

Stella lowered the scope. “Wherever you want to go.”

Scully bit her lip. “What about Port Washington?”

“We’re on course for it. But—”

“But you can’t stay there,” Scully finished. “I wouldn’t ask you to. I have family I need to see, lost time I need to make up for. But after that, if the Dutchman is willing to come back for me…”

“The Dutchman will always come back for you.”

Scully chuckled, letting her head roll back on the rail. “Stella Gibson, are you asking me to become a pirate?”

“You already are.”

“I’m the daughter of a Navy man.” She was almost teasing, but there was weight to her words. If she chose this life, she couldn’t be honest about it, not even to her mother.

“So am I.”

She’d forgotten that about Stella. Suddenly, everything she’d refrained from asking poured to the forefront of her mind. My father loved England. And I loved my father.

“Ten years at sea,” said Scully, “and you came to Los Barriles.”

“What?”

“After ten years on the Dutchman, why didn’t you go back to England? Why didn’t you see your father?”

Stella stood stone still, squinting into the horizon. “I worried that I’d be coming back to a different home. I couldn’t imagine how it had changed since I had been gone, how much older everyone had grown, and left me behind. It was easier, I suppose, not to see him at all. I—I wasn’t certain my father was even living, and if I stayed away, I could just imagine him as old and happy. The same as I imagined the feel of dry earth and the bustle of a port.”

“Would you go back now?”

“Perhaps.” Stella’s eyes glistened. “In many ways, Miss Scully, you are braver than me.”

* * *

They took turns rowing to shore. None of them spoke, just huffed and strained their muscles against the waves. Only Stella broke the pact of silence to mutter between breaths, “It was easier when a ghost did it.” The full moon glanced off her shoulders, polishing her days-old sunburn. Their little boat would never be noticed in a busy port like Tortuga; still, Scully felt exposed. Mulder shifted uncomfortably beside her, his long legs folded awkwardly in the tiny boat.

They hauled the boat onto a secluded shoreline just beside the only spring in Tortuga and tucked it into the pricker-bushes. Stella winced as she disentangled herself from the branches. She reached for a stem and jerked back her hand at the touch. Blood sprung in beads from her fingertips, and for a moment she just stared at it. Then she sucked the tip of her thumb and shook away the blood.

Stella set down the first empty barrel and waited for Mulder to carry in the second. “If we fill these up we’ll have enough water to take us to Los Barriles,” she said, popping open the lids on the barrels. Then she adjusted the strap on her holster, bringing her pistol into plain view. “I’m going into town to find us a crew. Or rather, one or two delinquents looking for a job.”

Scully furrowed her brow. “It’s dangerous to bring strangers aboard.”

“Not if they’re strangers we can take in a fight,” Stella retorted. “It takes all of our manpower to stay on course in fair weather. Without a crew, we’ll be thrown adrift if a storm so much as breathes on us.”

Scully crossed her arms. She opened her mouth to protest, then stepped back. They had talked about hiring a crew when the ropes blistered their hands, when the wind changed and everyone rushed to make the proper adjustments, but doing it—inviting a couple buccaneers from Tortuga to sail with them—was another hurdle. Stella was right, though. Without ghosts, they needed more people to keep the Dutchman sailing.

“Don’t get John Jack,” Scully said flatly, in lieu of a real protest. “And be careful who you trust.”

“You don’t have to tell that to me, Scully.”

“I’m just reminding you that you’re no longer invincible. Or alone.”

Stella’s lips tightened, and she offered a curt nod. She stepped forward with intention, and cupping Scully’s cheek, kissed her quickly. “I’ll be back.” Then she vanished into the bush.

Scully pushed her first barrel under the spring. The water splattered loudly, and she felt almost self-conscious watching it. Mulder sat down next to her. He wore the tattered button-down of his Navy shirt, wrinkled and stiff even after he had washed it. Several buttons were missing on the coat, and the insignia were so tattered they were unrecognizable. His hair had grown out, and he’d lost the hat long before Scully found him. He no longer looked a Navy man, even from afar.

“We’ll be getting home soon, Scully,” he said, but he didn’t sound sure. He wrung his hands at his lap.

“We will.”

Mulder rested his hand on her knee. “Are you going to stay?”

She opened her mouth, then closed it again. Would she stay? She pictured the bustling port, the Governor’s hall, her home on the cliff. Her mother, a grey shawl wrapped around her shoulders as she hurried out of the house to meet her tattered, one-eyed pirate daughter. Would she gasp? Would she even recognize her, at first? She was nervous, almost embarrassed to think of it.

“Not for long,” she said. She turned to look at Mulder, and tears sprung in her eye. He too was weathered by the sea. Neither of them could go contentedly back to Port Washington and return to life as usual. I have to see to my mother, she’d told Stella. She has to know I’m all right. But she couldn’t imagine staying for too long, waiting in her father’s office for a good husband to find her. If she stayed at all, she’d have to do something productive. She’d have to ruffle some feathers to get what she wanted.

Mulder grabbed the rim of the water barrel and hoisted it out of the spring. Water sloshed over his boots and trousers. He steadied it on the shore with a huff, and Scully knocked the lid tight with her elbow.

“What are you going to do?” she asked, fetching the second barrel and placing it under the spring. “You left home once with a case of wanderlust. Will you be content there when you get back?”

Mulder frowned. He sat against the full barrel and drew his knees to his chest. “No,” he confessed. “but I don’t know where else to go. I found the legends I was looking for; I witnessed the curse of Davy Jones broken, but I was kidnapped, betrayed, and nearly killed. The truth is out there, Scully, but after what I’ve seen I’m not sure the life of a pirate is for me.”

“Mulder, we’re both adventurers at heart. I’ve learned that, in the last few months. And you have a full archive of adventures. If you dig up another legend, I’m coming with you.”

Mulder sighed. “It’s not that simple, Scully. You can say that because you’ve built a life at sea, a life that doesn’t fully involve me. And I don’t begrudge you that. You should have a life that doesn’t involve me, even if you are a right proper pirate.” He chuckled fondly. “But it’s not fair to any of us if I spend my days with only you and Stella. I need something else—someone else, just the same as you. It doesn’t mean we part ways, at least, not for good. When I stumble on new cases, new legends, you’ll always be the first person I talk to. But I don’t think this adventure will end with the three of us on the same ship.”

He was right, of course. If she wanted to be with Stella, she had to live like a pirate. She could be arrested for loving a woman, much less a woman who escaped death row in England and captained a notorious ship.

Scully wrung her hands. “How do I tell my mother?” she blurted out. “How do I tell her I’m going to disappear for months on end, just the way my father did, but there will be no commanding officer to deliver the news if I die?”

“It sounds like you’ve made up your mind after all.”

Slowly, she nodded. “I’ll go home for a time. Stella will disappear. And when the Dutchman comes back for me, I’ll climb aboard.”

“Will you now?” Scully’s hair stood up on the back of her neck. The voice didn’t belong to Mulder. It was too smooth, too punctuated, and suddenly Scully was aware of the crackle of boots on undergrowth. The puffing breath, the rustle of clothing, a third shadow stretching ghast-like in the moonlight. She swallowed and met Mulder’s eyes before daring to face the intruder.

She stared down the barrel of Jim Burns’s pistol.

#the x-files #txf fanfic #Dana Scully #stella gibson #stella x scully #a pirate's life for me #pirate AU #pirate's life is back motherfuckers #now to update the playlist

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