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gvbejvmes · 3 years

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Drabble: The Present

Title: Fridays with CeCe Rating: PG-13 Characters: Gabriel James-Michaels, Bella James-Michaels, Constance James, Miss Alison, Andrew James, Maxxie Turner, Jonathan James-Michaels (mentioned), Velvet Starr (mentioned), Tommy “Kid” Kidderro (mentioned) Relationship: Implied Gabriel James-Michaels/Jonathan James-Michaels, Andrew James/Maxxie Turner, past Andrew James/Velvet Starr Warnings: Implied drug use and child endangerment, mentions of canon murder and incorrect medical diagnoses Summary: Twice a month Bella had a playdate at social services.

Twice a month Bella had a playdate at social services. She called it her ‘CeCe Day.’ He or Jay would take her down there, and she would bounce excitedly in their arms as she told them about all the things she wanted to do while she was there. It was always on a Friday, and it was always four hours in the morning. When they picked her up, she would either chatter on and on at 100mph about what she and her CeCe had done or she would be mopey because her CeCe showed up late or forgot about their playdate. Mostly she loved Playdate Days. Gabe, on the other hand, despised them.

While he and Johnny called them ‘Playdate Days,’ they’d never actually explained to Bella what they were. They would when she was older, but for now, she was too young to understand. All she knew was that her Mommy’s name was CeCe (well, Constance, but she chose to call her CeCe), and she had a standing playdate with her every other Friday. She never asked why it was always in the same room. And she never asked why Miss Alison, their caseworker, was always there. She only knew that she only got to see CeCe in a certain place at a certain time - the specifics didn’t bother her yet. Bella was three months old when Gabe got the call from social services asking if he could take custody of his granddaughter; she didn’t know any other life than this one.

Like most ‘Playdate Days,’ Gabe arrived a half hour early to pick Bella up. He didn’t know why he did it. Sometimes it was because he was already in the area and didn’t want to stray too far away. Other times it was because he had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. Today it was a combination of the two. He still needed to go to the art store to pick up a couple of brushes he had custom ordered, but something in his gut had told him to stop by the social services building first.

Instead of going in right away and sitting in the waiting room, he went around to the back of the building to the designated smoking area first - and that was when he saw her.

Constance James was skinny in a way that didn’t look natural. She had definition around her collarbone and chest that reminded Gabe of bird bones. It was like her body didn’t know how to retain fat or muscle tissue on that part of her body. She almost looked concave, but Gabe wouldn’t go quite that far. Her skin didn’t sit quite right on her bones - like she’d lost weight too quickly and her skin tried to conform to her body, but failed. It didn’t hang, but it didn’t look entirely normal either.

Her long blonde hair was streaked with black dye and was pulled back into a severe ponytail at the crown of her head. A cigarette was dangling from her lips as she texted rapidly on her phone. Her nails were short, and the cuticles looked picked at. Chipped nail polish caught the sunlight as her fingers moved across the screen.

She must have seen him approach because she suddenly groaned and put her phone away. “Did they call you?” She asked as she pulled the cigarette out of her mouth. Her foot was pressed against the side of the building, which made Gabe think of a flamingo for some reason.

“Should they have called me, Connie?” He asked his daughter as he pulled out his own cigarette and lit up. He leaned against the wall near her, knowing better by now than to try to have direct eye contact with his estranged daughter.

She shrugged and took a long drag of her cigarette. She looked better than the last time he had seen her. A lot of the time she ducked out before Gabe could get a good look at her. Today she was wearing jeans that actually fit without falling off her hips, and a thick gray sweater that fell off her shoulder, but that looked like it was the style and not the size. She looked healthier than the last time he’d seen her. Of all the things to have inherited, she inherited her mother’s terrible parenting and her grandfather’s temper and addiction.

“I dunno. They always seem to call you when I fuck up.” She admitted. “Ari kicked me out of the room.”

That was going to be a fun conversation with the case worker. He nodded and took a drag, using the time to think about what to say to that. “She prefers being called Bella.” He finally settled on.

Connie finished her cigarette and dropped the butt onto the ground before pushing off the wall. “No, you prefer Bella. She’s three. She’ll answer to any name I call her.” And with that his daughter started walking back towards the street. “I’ll see you when I see you.”

He watched his daughter walk away before finishing his cigarette and sanitizing his hands. There were so many things he wanted to say to her, but they both knew she wouldn’t listen. Pushing all thoughts of his daughter away, he went inside to pick up Bella. And sure enough, as soon as he walked into the waiting room, the receptionist led him into a conference room to wait for the caseworker.

“Mr. James-Michaels.” Miss Alison greeted him. And it was Miss Alison. He’d tried just calling her Alison once and she nearly bit his head off. His husband said it was a Child Services/Social Worker thing and to just roll with it.

“Miss Alison.” He greeted in return, watching as she sat down at the table across from him. “I ran into Connie outside.”

The younger woman’s face paled. “Did she tell you what happened?” She pulled out her tablet and Gabe knew from experience that she was pulling up their file.

“Just that Bella threw her out of the room. And that she’s trying to make ‘Ari’ happen.”

Miss Alison sighed. “I put in a call to the judge. We may have to terminate her visitation for a couple of weeks.” It looked like she was looking for the best way to explain to Gabe what happened. Technically there was video footage, but Gabe hated watching it and Miss Alison knew that.

“Miss James has once again refused to follow the rules of visitation. She was thirty minutes late, she insisted on referring to Bella as Ari, even after both myself and Bella asked her to refrain, and she once again told Bella she was going to buy a house and take her away from you. It was at that point that Bella screamed and asked her to go away. We escorted Miss James out immediately. It’s become very clear that the current arrangement is not conducive to Bella’s wellbeing. You and your husband will likely get a summons within the next week or so with a court date to meet with Judge Murphy again.”

Before Gabe could respond, there was a knock on the door, and one of the assistants popped their head into the room. “Sorry, Bella kept asking me to call you. When I let her know you were already here, she demanded to see you because and I quote ‘the connatution says so.’” And he looked like he was trying so hard not to laugh.

Gabe rolled his eyes. “That she definitely got from my husband.” He dug around in his satchel and pulled out a package of freeze dried apple slices and tossed them at the assistant before pulling off his beanie and tossing that to him as well. “Those should tide her over until I’m done in here.” He promised. “I have to go over my and my husband’s availability for the next couple of weeks with Miss Alison.”

By the time Gabe finished his conversation and went to the other room to collect Bella, she was standing by the door, coat on and his beanie shoved down over her wild hair. “Took you long enough, GG.” She complained as he signed her out and carried her out of the building. “You dunno what I had to deal with today.”

His granddaughter was definitely three going on forty-seven.

After going to pick up his custom brushes, they headed over to the Collective so they could drop them off in his studio and because there were some orders he apparently needed to authorize. As soon as they walked inside, Bella told him she wanted to watch ‘the spinning’. He had no idea what she was talking about, until they walked to the classroom and he saw Maxxie running his beginning pottery class. Bella scampered off to sit near Maxxie and watch him move his clay around. Somehow he had a feeling she was going to wind up covered in clay - again. Shaking his head, he walked out of the classroom to find Andrew James sitting at the reception desk.

His son was twenty-six years old and all dark hair and tan skin. There was something about his hair that reminded Gabe of how his hair had been when he was his age. It was long and hung in his eyes - all the damn time. He was broad-shouldered, but was constantly hunching in on himself. It was like he was trying to make himself smaller everywhere he went. If he had to describe his son in one word, it would be skittish.

He spent years on medication he didn’t need after he claimed that he saw aliens take his aunt away. It wasn’t until he was older that he finally saw a therapist who saw his story for what it was: a way for his brain to comprehend a horrible thing he’d witnessed. Unfortunately by that time, he’d already spent years on medication he never needed and the side effects were irreversible. Thankfully the worst of it was memory loss and shaky hands.

“What are you doing working today?” He asked curiously as he gestured for his son to let him onto the computer. His son had been working at the Collective since he moved to New York. He’d made it clear he didn’t want any handouts, but he’d connected so well with the others at the Collective that it was strange to think about him working anywhere else. “I thought you refused to work on days Maxxie and Velvet were working.”

He’d dated both Velvet and Maxxie and now tried to avoid both of them whenever he could. His relationship with Velvet hadn’t been all that serious. As soon as he found out Velvet slept in a coffin, he was out. Maxxie, on the other hand, had been very serious. They’d dated for six months, which was the longest he’d ever seen his friend in a relationship. It had ended badly, to say the very least. He wasn’t entirely sure what happened between them, but fire had been involved somehow.

Drew made a face as he perched on the desk, shoulders hunched over and ankles crossed. “That’s not true.” He lied. “I traded shifts with Kid. He had his first GED prep class today.”

Gabe smiled at that. It had taken Tommy long enough. He pulled up the order he needed to review. There were still things he needed to do up in his office, but knowing that his son was working made him want to stay downstairs with him for as long as he could get away with it.

“CJ texted me.” Drew said after a long moment. “She wanted me to talk some ‘sense’ into you.”

He rolled his eyes. “And how’s that going for you?” While Connie didn’t talk to him, she still talked to her brother, but mostly only when she needed something. Drew, for his part, didn’t take sides. He loved his sister despite her faults, but he also knew how she was and what was best for his niece.

Before Drew could respond, Maxxie’s voice came from the classroom. “Pookie! Can you come get your little sister?! She’s throwing clay on the ground.” And nothing about that surprised him except for…

“Pookie?” He mouthed at his son, eyebrow raised. Maybe there was more to Drew working today than just taking Tommy’s shift.

His son blushed as he hopped off the desk. “That’s the part you’re focusing on? Not the fact that he keeps calling my niece my sister?” He grumbled out. “I’ll watch Bella; just go work.” He waved a hand in his dad’s direction.

As his son disappeared into the classroom and he could hear Bella squealing in delight, he couldn’t help but to mouth out again: “Pookie?”

#drabble #pairing: Gabe/Johnny #pairing: Drew/Maxxie

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greekowl87 · 5 years

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Fic: The Ins and Outs of a Relationship

A/N: This started as a prompt that @minuete-blog submitted to me back in December for which I wrote a 200 word drabble. Then this beast was born and it’s rather long. I’m still not entirely content with it but at this point...hopefully it’s okay and you all enjoy. A massive thanks to @peacenik0 helping me out in the beginning with the inital feedback.

Sorry for the typos. Editing is always a weakness of mine. Hopefully I caught everything.

Tagging @today-in-fic

"You can't ignore me forever." "Watch me, Mulder." "Want do you want me to do?" He pleaded. Mulder used his height to block her into the back part of the office. "What should I do, Scully? I know I messed up?" "Messed up? Try big time up, Mulder." Ever since Diana, Gibson, and Cassandra Spencer’s disappearance, that is what had started. After she had nearly died from Ritter’s bullet in New York, a temporary truce had been called as he helped her with incredibly fast recovery. But that peace was short lived and with them back in the basement again, it seemed old tension flared up again. Sure, she managed to keep a professional decorum while they were at work but in those rare moments when it was just the two of them, she let her ire burn furiously. Ever since they reclaimed their basement office, she continued to let her anger be known. "I get that, Scully. I get that. Trust me." "Trust you?" The irony was laced like acid in her voice. "Trust you? Just like you trusted me?" Come on, Scully, Mulder thought miserably.

"We can't afford to be doing this. Not as husband and wife." "What the hell are you talking about?" She raised her eyebrow quizzically and her patience was clearly thinned.

Her silence was enough for him as Mulder produced the fake ring from his suit pocket. "Marry me, Scully." "Mulder." She grimaced pinching the bridge of her nose. “What is this? Some sort of sick joke?” "We have an undercover case. Arcadia. Sunny San Diego. Something about missing neighbors. It'll be fun, Scully. We get to play house." He cleared his throat. “A married couple went missing and are presumed dead. The locals asked for our help and Skinner thought the best approach would be if we went undercover as a married couple.” She yanked the false ring from hand and pushed her way forwards. Scully began to gather her stuff for the day. "The folder is on the desk. Our flight leaves at 10. Should I pick you up at eight?" She glared at me and he couldn't help but smile. She slammed the door behind her. "Eight it is then," he murmured, eyeing the empty spot where the file had been.

. . . . .

Scully slept fitfully throughout the night and woke up two hours before her five o’clock alarm was supposed to go off. She had not fallen asleep the previously evening easily either so she reviewed the case. She shook her head in disgust as she reflected what Mulder had told her previously.

We get to play house, Scully. That shit eating grin on his face. She twirled the fake wedding ring against the grain of her wooden kitchen table as she sipped her bitter coffee and the bitter liquid churned in her acidic stomach brought on by nerves. She stared at that ring and only could think about Diana.

Diana and Mulder. Mulder and Diana. The Gunmen had not implicitly said it outright but she was a good investigator, she could make the connections. They had been married but did Mulder know that she knew?

Marry me, Scully.

Mulder had asked her that one other time when she was in Maine. Even though she knew he had been joking, it reminded her that she had once considered and played with the idea of taking their relationship to the next level at one time. Her cancer remission had brought a new lease on life and reinvigorated their relationship. Even what had happened over the summer had given her some hope. But then Fowley’s game was strong and she was luring Mulder even more.

Trust me on this, Scully. Diana wouldn’t steer us wrong. You should trust Diana because I trust Diana.

What a huge pile of horse shit, she thought. Looking at the clock, Scully got up to pour out the rest of the coffee and prepare for her shower. As she was about to start her shower, she heard her front door open and close soundly behind her.

“Hey, Scully!”

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. She closed her eyes and called out, “You’re early.”

“I know. I thought I would get a jump on things since it’s our first case back,” he said. She could hear him rattling around in the kitchen. “Are you out of creamer?”

“Yes. You know I take my coffee black,” she called back.

That was his thing. Her space was their space. What she wouldn’t give for some sense of personal identity or freedom. He could wait. She showered prolonging each minute. Scully was angry and hurt. She was frustrated she could not understand Mulder and his lack of guilt or empathy. As she finished her shower, Scully resolved to keep communication between them only a necessity for the rest of the case, even if they were supposed to be married.

. . . . . .

Silence oversaw their car ride to the airport, their flight across the country, their landing in San Diego, and as he stood at the rental car place. Mulder had tried to get some reaction from Scully. Anything would be better than her stony silence. He scribbled his signature onto the last form and asked, “Hey, Scully, what’s today’s date?”

“February 23rd,” she replied quietly.

He paused in thought. That date should have been important but he could not remember. Instead, he scribbled the date and pushed the forms back to the car attendant to finish the rental process. Mulder gazed at his partner staring out the window watching other people from the airport.

“Scully.”

“I’m fine, Mulder,” she replied robotically.

“Talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to say,” she continued. “Let’s just hurry up to the branch office, sign the paperwork, and go to our hotel. Okay? I really don’t want this to take any longer than necessary.”

“Fine, whatever you say, Scully.”

She could hear the hurt in his voice, and despite her affection for him, she was glad. Maybe he deserved a little taste of his own medicine. Hadn't he done enough to cause her pain and betray her trust over the last few months? Even still, Scully felt guilty for causing him pain. Mulder had forgotten her birthday again, and at this point, she shouldn’t even be surprised. The only time he had remembered her birthday was when she was dying with cancer because he only had one more chance to do it. Now they had all the time in the world and he had chosen to spend it with someone else. Diana, whom he trusted more than me, she reminded herself bitterly.

“Let’s just go then,” she told him.

The rest of the afternoon was no better. After the agents concluded their business at the field office, Mulder drove them to their hotel for the night before doing their big move in the morning. Scully disappeared without even saying good night into the elevator. Mulder sighed and pocketed his room key.

Mulder had been undercover a handful of times. The idea of no longer being Fox Mulder had been appealing fantasy growing up on the Vineyard after Samantha’s disappearance. He opened the new wallet to inspect the further. Robert Andrew Petrie born February 23, 1964...married to Laura Ann Petrie on September 4, 1995...the dates swirled around his head. Shit. He winced and closed the wallet and remembered why the date was important.

Scully’s birthday. He had forgotten again.

After her cancer remission, Mulder promised himself to do better by her. He thought he had been on the right path, especially with the impulsive events that had happened in the hallway. Something had sparked in his brain but then the bee, and then Diana. And now look at where they were. They finally had their work back and his quest but had things really changed for him.

He could still do something tonight for her. Maybe she might forgive him a bit. Without a second thought, Mulder carried his luggage back out the car and rushed to the nearest shopping center with a plan forming in his mind.

. . . . . .

Scully sighed as she finished buttoning the new silken pajamas that her mother had bought her the previous weekend. She should enjoy what was left of her birthday. Maybe she could find Breakfast at Tiffany’s on the television and go to bed early. She was about to pull back the covers when she heard Mulder’s familiar two-note knock.

“I’m asleep,” she called.

“Two minutes, Scully. Please?”

“Not tonight, Mulder.”

“We need to talk, Scully. Please. I brought you an olive branch.”

Scully sighed and relented. She always relented and did what he asked. She opened the room door slightly and saw Mulder in a t-shirt and jeans. He held up a small bottle of rum and two cokes produced from the vending machine down the hall.

“Happy birthday, Scully.”

“What do you want, Mulder?”

“Why does it necessarily mean I want something? Come on, Scully.”

She sighed and opened the door wider as Mulder started to fix them two drinks. He pushed the drink into her hand and Mulder clinked his own plastic cup against hers. “Happy birthday.”

“And you remembered?”

“Well, my birthday is now yours too...well Rob’s is at least. I know I forgot again but I, um…” Mulder sipped his drink uneasily. “Scully, why are you angry with me? Isn’t it enough that I know I messed up?”

“Mulder,” she took a deep breath. But he was looking at her again in that way and she sighed. “I really don’t want to talk about it.”

“What? Is it Diana again?”

“It’s more than that!” Scully shouted angrily. “You dismissed me as if what I had to say meant nothing. You don’t trust me.”

“What are you talking about? I trust you. I do! Scully, you are working yourself up over nothing!”

“Stop dismissing me as if I am nothing! You came in to rub it in my face?”

“No,” Mulder answered. His shoulders dropped. “I just wanted to give you these. I saw Scully wearing them more than Laura. Happy birthday by the way.” She watched Mulder drown his drink and place a small box with a bow on the dresser. “I’ll see you downstairs at nine. The moving van will be meeting us here.”

He dropped the used plastic cup in the trash and left without looking her in eye. The door shut behind him and Scully looked down at her full drink and then to the small black box with the bow. She set the drink aside and wondered cynically what it could be. Did he see her or Diana as his partner on the x-files? What about this case? She was supposed to role play his wife. She cast aside the bow and opened the box expecting to see something stupid. Instead, she saw a small folded piece of paper and two dazzling pearl-gold earrings. Her breath was caught in her chest as she uncrumpled the small note.

Scully - I can’t think of anything clever to write, but I wanted you to know that there is no one else I’d rather have be my partner more than you. Happy birthday - Mulder.

She inspected the earrings and Mulder’s words came back to her. Catholic guilt was insufferable.

. . . . . .

The next morning, Mulder had not slept at all after he had left Scully’s room. The elevator dinged and his breath hitch as Scully appeared carrying her bags. She was wearing the earring that he had gotten her the previous night and it matched perfectly with her golden cross. He still saw his Scully but he also saw what he imagined Dana being like in another life. Scully joined him in the lobby and frowned in response to his blank expression.

“Close your mouth, Mulder.” Her small hands automatically began to fix the sweater he had tried to fix on his shoulders. “You look ridiculous.”

“You look...nice.” She paused and raised her eyes to meet his. Something had changed in her Mulder had sensed. Color flashed her in cheeks as she fixed her eyes on trying his sweater. “Scully, I mean it.”

“Thanks, Mulder.”

Mulder watched her hands and noticed that her ring finger was bare. He caught her hands within his. “Where’s your ring?”

“Um, I was going to put it on later.”

“Let me,” he whispered. “Please, Scully?”

Scully looked away and was clearly uncomfortable. “Mulder…”

“Please?”

“Pocket.”

Scully closed her eyes as she felt his fingertips graze her abdomen as he fished out the ring from her sweater’s pocket. The cool gold metal was smooth against his own fingertips and her own soft hands were like grazing heaven. They both stared at their joined hands as Mulder delicately slipped the ring onto her wedding finger. “I know it’s not done properly, the proposal,” he whispered. His eyes lit up at some joke she did not know. “But I’d imagine Rob and Laura’s marriage proposal being something kitsch and romantic. Rob wanted to impress Laura because he never felt good for her.”

“Laura likes Rob for who he is. It’s fine, Mulder. Really it is.” Their hands fell to each other’s side. “I guess we better get going.”

“Yeah,” he murmured.

. . . . . .

“Stepford homes with identical lawns to a sixteenth of an inch in San Diego,” Scully mused. “It must be a crime.”

Over a dinner of burritos and locally made salsa, camped out on the floor with paper plates, the partners decided their next move. Mulder was still pouting well into the evening that his basketball hoop had no place among CC&Rs and a Twilight Zone suburbia as his oversized steak burrito with a fork.

“Doesn’t this place just creep you, Scully?”

“How so? Or are you just mad about your basketball hoop?”

“Both,” he replied before taking a bite.

She hummed in agreement. He quietly took in the changed Scully in contrast to what he had seen the previous evening. She seemed a bit more open and forgiving. Maybe he was navigating the minefield of their relationship. Even then throughout the day, he could not resist touching her with simple gestures like an arm around her shoulder or just holding her close.

“My first apartment in Baltimore was like this when I started med school,” Scully chuckled at the random memory.

“What? A huge house with no furniture?”

“A shoe box studio with only a bed and a lawn chair,” she corrected. “I used my medical texts for tables.”

Mulder smiled with her. “I bet you have some stories.”

“Hmm…” She continued in thought. “Even though I still don’t know how my dad it paying for med school, I was determined to be independent so shady studio apartments were a must.”

“Well, we got a couch at least. And a nice bed upstairs,” Mulder listed, “and a television with a premium cable package for all our needs.”

“Well, I’d imagine you have particular tastes that are such a rarity to find.”

Mulder broke out into laughter and moved closer on the rug to Scully.

“So, what’s the plan for tomorrow?” She shrugged. “Return the china to Big Mike and see if we can’t get your basketball hoop problem sorted out with the owner of the homeowners association...Gogolak and we can take it from there.”

He nodded and got up from the ground and collected the remains of their dinner for the fridge. “At least we have leftovers for breakfast.” He offered his hand to Scully and he pulled her up from the ground. “Do you need any help with the bed?”

“I got it,” she said softly. “Thank you for taking the couch. Do you need me to bring you any pillows or anything?”

“I got all I need right here,” he replied gesturing to the television. He licked his lips as the air became heavy. “Good night, Scully.”

“Night, Mulder.”

She could feel his eyes on her back as she walked quietly upstairs.

As the hours trickled through the night and into the early morning, Scully found herself unable to sleep in the large foreign bed. The wind outside blew and she could hear the trees in the backyard and the billowing against the windows. She turned onto her side and drew the blankets around her shoulder but the uneasiness only grew worse. She tried to close her eyes to think about something else, do random math equations, trying to recite the periodic table, anything to sleep. But her mind drifted to Mulder and how in 72 hours things had changed yet again between them.

Why can’t I think of anything else?

She rolled out of bed, gathered her robe, and went downstairs for a glass of water. Mulder wide awake staring listlessly at the blue glow of the television lost in thought.

“Can’t sleep?” Scully asked from the top of the stairs.

Mulder looked up in surprise.

“Can you?”

“No.”

“Want to join me for a bit, Scully? Misery loves company.”

She sighed and wrapped the robe around herself tightly.

“I just came down for a glass of water.”

He patted the couch invitingly. “Come on, Scully. I won’t bite.”

After a moment of brief hesitation, she joined him on the couch. Mulder offered the blanket that he had been using and she shook her head slightly before his insistence won out. She tried to get comfortable as if this was the first time they had sat next to each other.

“Why is it so cold down here?”

“I haven’t quite mastered the settings of the air unit. I can go change it if you want. Try and figure it out.”

“No,” she whispered. She stalled him by catching his hand. “I’m fine. This is good. I mean, it’s no green leather couch but it’ll do.”

“I miss my couch too.” He smiled at her off-handed comment. “I thought this would be more of your style, Scully.”

“Suburbia and perfect little homes? Not by a long shot. Chasing monsters with a crackpot partner is more my style.” She yawned and covered her mouth. “Excuse me.”

“Maybe watching a little tv will help you fall asleep.”

Scully knew she should say no and go back upstairs to maintain any level of professionalism while they were undercover. They weren’t husband and wife, they were only pretending. But a part of her wanted to indulge. She remembered the small gestures like an arm around her shoulders or something small. It was nice to pretend and things would go back to normal when they were in Washington. She let the last of her anger and resentment go momentarily and just let herself indulge in the moment with him.

To Mulder’s surprise, she unfolded the blanket and lounged next to him. He extended the full length of his body so that Scully was comfortably cushioned between him and the couch. Scully sighed contently and rested her head on his shoulder under his chin. “It’s nice to pretend sometimes,” Mulder whispered.

“Is that what we do?”

“What do you mean?”

“We pretend everything is okay when it isn’t,” she whispered. His arm came around her waist protectively. This was the most she had talked about her emotions in months. “Do you trust me?”

“What kind of question is that? Of course.”

“Because lately it doesn’t seem like it. We pretend.” In the darkness, she felt like she could be open because she could hide in the shadows without giving too much away.

“Are we pretending right now?”

“I don’t know.”

Mulder could not find an answer so he simply settled for holding her. Scully took the silence neither as a good or bad thing given their current physical prolixity. Scully moved to get up but Mulder’s arm squeezed around her gently. Encouraged by this, she relaxed and instead focused on the late night infomercial playing on the television and tried to memorize the sensations of being held by Mulder. Sometimes, they communicated best when things went unspoken. He pressed a gentle kiss to her hair. “I hope not,” he murmured right before sleep overtook her.

. . . . . . .

Scully blinked herself awake momentarily unaware as the morning light peaked through the windows. She smelled Mulder’s musk and she thought she had fallen asleep in the early morning during a stakeout. Her leg brushed against something hard...oh shit! Scully blinked herself wake, clenched her thighs, and rolled out of place on the couch. Mulder groaned something incomprehensible, not fully awake but aware of the sudden absence. Everything came back to her in a flash and she winced wondering how she could have let things get this far.

“Scully,” he mumbled. “Shit, what time is it?” He opened his eyes to see her cheeks a bright red and her staring fixedly at his legs. He followed her gaze to see…”Shit!” The blanket was a vain attempt at modesty. “Sorry…”

“We had a moment, Mulder. That’s all. I understand and it’s a typical physiological response.” She had her arms wrapped around herself. “I’m going to get a shower.”

“Scully,” he called again. He daughter her left hand as she tried to walk past. “About last night…”

“It was a moment, Mulder. Nothing. We have a job to do today, okay?” There it was. The walls were back up and she had closed off to him again. “I’ll start the coffee for you before I go back upstairs.”

He wanted to say more but his voice escaped him. He settled into old habits and settled with squeezing her hand. “Thanks, Scully.”

Mulder expected her to pull away in silence but she returned the squeeze gently before heading into the kitchen. It was some progress and he would take it, even at the expensive of his body’s betrayal.

. . . . . . .

He told her the thrill was gone. It was meant as a joke but it hurt deeper. She grabbed his hand to prevent him from going downstairs and back to the couch for the rest of the night. She was upset with him for a lot of things: Diana, the mock story of their meeting, the toothpaste, and the toilet seat but she still cared for him. She was also very much confused. More that but she would never openly admit that. She had also surprised him with her demonstrative behavior.

“Stay here tonight,” she told him. “We both know how uncomfortable the couch is.”

Mulder clutched the overstuffed pillow before sitting it on the edge of the bed. “What do you want me to do? I see you are mad at me but then there are moments like last night. Then you pretend as if nothing has happened. I see your uneasiness with me pretending to be your husband.”

He watched her bit her lip as she failed to come up with the right word. “That's not us, Mulder,” she replied.

“We aren’t supposed to be us on this case.” He nodded to her. “Green facial masks make me wonder if you’ve become an alien hybrid.” She gifted him with a small chuckle. “Go finish your beauty routine..”

“Are we going to talk?”

“We can try.”

She disappeared into the bathroom to wash off the facial mask satisfied with the answer. Mulder tossed the pillow back on the bed and stared thoughtfully at the 600 count Egyptian sheets and firm new mattress. He adjusted the right side of the bed knowing that is where she would likely sleep for the night.

“I was thinking of what I could do tomorrow,” he called to her. “I have a pink flamingo which is scientifically proven to piss off the neighbors, just like the scientific nature of the whammy.”

“The jury is still out on that one, Mulder,” she answered from the bathroom.

“Well, don’t worry about me tomorrow while you run down to San Diego. It’s all under control.”

“I do worry when you say it’s all under control. That usually means I have to save your ass.” Back and forth, verbal sparring, thrust, and parry. Let’s hide our emotions some more and everything is fine then. “What on Earth inspired you to come up with that UFO convention bullshit at dinner?”

“I hate this entire suburbia thing, Scully.” She emerged from the bathroom with her face bright red from the green facial. “I was bored although you looked ready to murder me.”

“I was but yet you’re still here. Don’t forget I know how to do it properly if I wanted to. And not get caught” She took off her robe and cast it aside on the chair with Mulder’s sweatshirt. “What about that kiss?” Scully may not have liked talking about her emotions but she was skilled in trying to give him a heart attack without trying. “That seemed…”

“What?”

“I don’t know. We don’t talk about that much either, do we, Mulder?”

Mulder sat on the edge of the bed unsure of the next move. Scully sat across from him. “Do you want to know what bothered me the most about this assignment initially, Mulder?” She took his silence as an affirmative. She took a deep breath and decided that maybe talking about her emotions was the way to start. Maybe it was the close quarters they shared or maybe she was just tired of it. “I couldn’t help see Diana in the role instead of me. I can’t help but wonder...call me jealous but it’s more than you trusting her over me...I felt like there was something in the past that she was trying to reclaim. Everything that we had...have...I don’t know where we stand anymore, Mulder.”

He blinked and was shell shocked. For Scully to even admit this level of openness of emotion or how she truly felt was mind-blowing for Mulder. “You’re jealous?”

“And hurt. What happened after Cassandra Spender and at the Gunmen’s felt like a slap in the face. I know she was,” Scully paused to consider her words, “with you when you unearthed the x-files.”

“She was never officially on them in any capacity,” Mulder took a deep breath weighing the truth. “It was more personal in nature.”

“You two were involved,” Scully surmised.

Mulder looked away and gave a weak nod.

“Yes. For a whirlwind nine months.” He watched her expression stay neutral but he saw hurt in her blue eyes. “I thought I had finally found someone to listen to me, someone who actually cared. But I was wrong. Maybe I was too obsessed with the work or something, but she left one day...no notice or anything. Just a note. I can still see. Fox - It was never going to work.”

“That was it?” Scully felt her blood boil not because of jealousy but because of anger. Mulder deserved more. “She just left you?”

“I’m used to it, Scully.” He shrugged. “My parents were no good, Phoebe left me, and it was only natural Diana followed. I sometimes think these days you are bound to do the same thing.”

“Neither one of us is perfect, Mulder but you can’t get rid of me.”

“I almost did.”

Scully sighed and took his hands. “I don’t like how she uses you.” They looked down their joined hands again and felt the electricity in the air. “I know she means something to you, Mulder but…”

“Enough talking about it, Scully. Please? She’s not here now, is she? It’s us. We have our office and work back..” His thumb caressed the webbing of her hand. “Granted this a lot lackluster than I wanted.”

She took a deep breath. “This isn’t what I expected either. This isn’t us, is it?”

“No,” he laughed. “Scully, are we okay?”

“I think we’re going to be,” she whispered. A small smile was on her lips. “Honeybunch.”

“Poopyhead? Really.”

Both smiled and she looked down at their hands. “I wonder how, if it wasn’t for the bee, things would have turned out between us.”

Mulder caught the innuendo. “What if, Scully.”

She took a deep breath. “We can’t, Mulder...we’re on a case.”

“But...you want to…” Say yes, Scully. Please say yes. “Scully?” Scully nodded slightly as her eyes closed. His hands were becoming more insistent playing with the inside of her wrists. She felt herself clench like she did that morning. “Let me,” he whispered, “I promise I can be discrete.”

Shit, she thought, they shouldn’t be doing this. “Mulder...I don’t want…” Scully gulped the moment she felt him invade her personal space and ignite the tension with a searing kiss on the crook of her neck. It was like she had been electrified alive and leave her body liquified. “Mulder…”

“What? Is there something wrong?”

She stared at his hazel eyes, dilated with arousal. “I don’t want this...I don’t want to hurt you...I don’t want to be hurt.”

“You won’t,” he said. His large hands framed her face. “You’ve never left me.”

She shook her head. “Mulder, this isn’t right,” she replied stopping him. “We both know it. This is neither the time nor the place.” She saw something in him break. “Mulder, it’s not you, it’s…”

“No. No, Scully, I get it.”

“Mulder, that’s not it…”

“No, I get it. Maybe I don’t know you as well as I thought I did,” he said.

No, no, no! He’s pulling away again.

“Mulder, stop! Mulder!”

“Why do you want me to say, Scully? This is probably what would’ve happened in the hallway,” he snapped. Scully drew away from him as if she had been burned. “You know, ever since you recovered from your cancer, I wanted to show you how much you mean to me. That I could be something to you.”

This was spiraling out of control. “Mulder, let me finish,” she begged.

“No, Scully. I get it. I’ve gotten a glimpse at your perfect life if you’d never met me.”

She needed to fix this and get his dumb mouth to shut up somehow. He was getting anxious, talking himself down. “Mulder! Shut up, for one minute!” But he kept talking about how she would have been so much better without him. “Mulder!” At wit’s end, she grabbed his hand and forced him to stare at her. He stilled and lowered his gaze like he was ashamed to see her. “Look at me. At the very least look at me in the eye as I talk to you.”

“What’s the point?”

“I don’t want to screw this up, Mulder...whatever we have between us, I don’t want to screw this up. We’re healing, we need to heal before we do anything else, before we do anything else.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean, Scully?”

“You idiot,” she murmured affectionately. Her hand gently caressed his cheek. “This is probably the most communicative and open we’ve been with each other for a while. Do you realize that? We haven’t been this open about us in...God, I can’t remember.”

Mulder stared at her with the intensity he reserved for an x-files and her. “We have, haven’t we?”

“Oxford education my ass, Mulder.”

He nodded in acceptance. “I’ll leave you some space then tonight.”

“I didn’t say you had to leave,” she said. “We can still talk, Mulder.”

Mulder nodded in acceptance. “What else do you want to know?”

“Nothing,” Scully said. “We don’t have to talk either.”

She suddenly grew self-conscious. Maybe she was making a mistake and misreading this entire thing. welled up in her chest as she pulled down the quilt of the bed and Mulder watched her before helping. “I don’t know which one is more awkward, Scully, this or playing house.”

“Shut up, Mulder and come to bed.”

Soon, they were under the covers and the lights were out. In the darkness, they could be open again. As they lay side by side, Scully on her side and Mulder on his back, they let the silence eschew them. What was there to say when it still felt there an ocean dividing them? Mulder watched her back and breathing patterns. She was still awake. “I’m going to go downstairs, Scully,” he announced. His whispered voice rippled through the stillness. “This isn’t working.”

“Mulder,” she countered. She twisted to face him. “Why?”

“It just isn’t, Scully. I’m going downstairs to sleep, okay? I’ll see you in the morning.”

He rolled out of bed and disappeared downstairs into the night leaving Scully confused and wondering just what exactly had happened.

. . . . . . .

Scully left for San Diego and the field office first thing in the morning before he woke up off the couch. She left him no note or anything which he probably deserved. As he drank his orange juice and surveilled the pink flamingo, Mulder had time to think as his photographic memory replayed the conversation over on repeat. In his mind, he had overreacted and clearly done something that Scully had been repulsed by. What the hell were you thinking when you kissed Scully, he berated himself?

. . . . . .

That evening, after a close call with Scully almost bludgeoned fire poker, both sat down in the living and shared a pizza. In front of them laid the evidence Scully had brought back from San Diego. He took a large bit from the pizza and asked, “So aside from you almost decking me tonight with a fire poker, my basketball hoop was also mysteriously returned to the garage as well.”

“So, the mysterious forces are returning basketball hoops and fixing our mailbox. Are you sure it wasn’t the neighborhood watch?”

“Very funny, Scully.”

“But seriously, you think there is a creature traveling from yard to yard? What inspired such a theory?”

“A trash monster if you will.”

“How original.”

“I can’t explain it yet, Scully but we need to dig out there without blowing our cover. I’ve already called for a digger tomorrow morning to start on it.”

“And how are you going to disguise that?”

“A reflection pool.” He tapped the side of his temple. “There’s nothing in those damn CC&Rs about a reflection pool.”

“Clever. So tomorrow, we watch you tear up the yard while I will be the good little housewife?”

“Unless there’s something else…”

“No. No, there isn’t.” As they continued to eat their pizza in silence and both felt the tension from the previous evening return. “I was thinking, Scully about last night.”

“What about last night?”

She watched him wearily and was clearly caught off guard. She had not expected anything to happen or any other discussion to occur. “Maybe we should spend the night together,” he started. He averted his eyes as he picked to bring up the awkward topic. “After what happened today. I don’t have an explanation for the mailbox or the flamingo or the basketball hoop. I know I saw something out there tonight I can’t explain and I just have a bad feeling about the trash monster.”

“Back each other up?” Scully asked as she kept her eyes focused on the pizza in front of her. “Have a defensible position?”

“Yeah. A defensible position. I was thinking that the bedroom would be better. You know, better than the living room.”

“Basic military defense 101 right, Scully?” He flashed her a warm smile which did nothing to alleviate her uneasiness. “You still wearing those earrings, huh?”

“What?”

He motioned at towards her ear lobe. “The earrings I got you for your birthday,”

“Oh yeah. I love them,” she told him. “That was incredibly thoughtful of you, Mulder.”

“I’m glad.”

“Why did you pull away last night, Mulder?”

Scully decided to lay it on the line. She was tired of them running around in circles, talking in code, and pretending. The Petries were overly sweet and adorable and so, so fake. Like Mulder and Scully, there was confusion and deception and broken trust. “What are you talking about?” Mulder deflected.

He started to gather the paper plate and the rest of the pizza to put it away in the fridge. “What am I talking about? Mulder, last night was just something or a spat. Who are you trying to protect? You or her?

“This isn’t about her, Scully. Can you please just drop it?”

“Then who is this about, Mulder? If you expect this to work between us again, us having the x-files back...I don’t want to go through it again.”

“What?”

She recalled three years ago when they had been on a case in Maryland with mind control and televisions. She remembered the hallucination of seeing Mulder in the car with the Smoking Man and the shattering heartbreak in their still young partnership. Her worst fears coming true except this time it was real. “Mulder, tell what it is that I did! Do you not trust me? Would you rather have her?”

“Scully,” he groaned, setting everything on the counter. “Why are you doing this? Why now? We have more important things to focus on.”

“If not now, when, Mulder?”

“This isn’t about our partnership.”

“I am tired of dancing around this subject. This is about us, Mulder, you and me. You can’t keep running.”

“I’m not running.”

“Then what was last night, Mulder?”

“I overstepped the line,” he answered.

“Overstepped,” she repeated.

“I tried last night thinking we’d be able to recapture what we had but obviously I was wrong,” he told her.

Where is this coming from?

“What are you talking about, Mulder?”

“Last night,” he continued, ignoring the incredulous looks she was giving him. “Obviously there is nothing between us like that.”

Nothing between them? “What the hell are you talking about?” Was what happened in the hallway last summer nothing too? “Maybe I shouldn't have gone to your apartment that night. Maybe I shouldn't have agreed to come back onto the x-files, Mulder. You and your ex-wife would have the rule of the roost again without me.”

“What did you say?” he hissed angrily.

“What?”

“About my ex-wife,” he pressed. There was a fire in his eyes that had only seen a handful of times.

“Diana,” she said. Scully drew herself up to her full five foot two stature when she suddenly wished she had her heeled boots on. “The Gunmen told me.”

“They shouldn’t have,” he said. “And you shouldn’t go sticking your nose in business where it doesn’t belong.”

“Is that something you didn’t think to tell me last night after you admitted your nine-month relationship? How long were you all married?”

“What does that have to do with anything, Scully and you know it!”

“Why didn’t you think it was important enough to tell me? And why are you still bringing it up?” 7For that, he could not formulate an answer. He looked down at the kitchen countertop. Scully sighed and shook her head. As much as she wanted to say something else, she knew no words to fix the wounds they had opened tonight. “We’re never going to get better are we, Mulder? Maybe we were okay at one point but I feel like now, why are we even trying, Mulder?” She hunched her shoulders in defeat. “I’m going to take a shower, Mulder. I still think we should not be alone, just in case something does happen. But I understand if you don’t…”

She left in silence and climbed the stairs. She unbuttoned her blouse and threw it onto the chair in the corner of the bedroom, not caring anymore. Scully couldn't place the emotions that she was feeling...hurt and disappointment, surely. She did not want to hurt anymore. She shut and locked the bathroom door behind her and turned on the hot water. She stepped in and tried to forget everything else.

Downstairs in the kitchen, Mulder continued to clean up the kitchen and put the remains of the pizza into the fridge next to their forgotten burritos from their first night. He did not want to go back upstairs and face Scully. He did not know what bothered him more, the fact the truth was out or Scully’s reaction. What was she reacting to, he thought.

After the rest of the kitchen was cleaned and the living room was picked up, Mulder stood at the foot of the stairs as an emotional war raged within him as that god awful song by The Clash played in his head. “Should I stay or should I go now?” he murmured to himself.

The words were mocking him and he suddenly found himself time traveling back to years ago to the moment when Diana had returned the wedding ring and the note to him. He stood transfixed at his desk in the basement, frozen in time unable to do anything. What had resulted was years worth of loneliness and self-loathing. Was he willing to let that happen all over again? They had the x-files again together but what were the odds she would still end up leaving him just like Diana did? Did he mess up again that much?

Taking a deep breath, there was only one way to find out. Mulder climbed the stairs trying not to make too much noise. He heard her in the shower and he shivered at the thought. Holding her as she slept the first night on the couch was a memory that he would hold onto the rest of his days. She emerged from the shower dressed in the same cotton pajamas she had been wearing the past few nights. She was not surprised to see him in the bedroom.

“Come to berate me some more?” She arched her eyebrow in challenge. “Or did you have something else in mind.”

“No,” he answered. He swallowed the lump in his throat. Mulder couldn’t endure their small, painful spats anymore. “I came to apologize.” She looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “I mean it, Scully. Do you want to know what happened? She left me, that much is the truth. She left that note, the wedding band, and my heart smashed in pieces. You know what I did. I fell off the face of the Earth. I threw those rings into the Potomac to never be seen again and thereby proceeded onto a three-day drinking binge where I probably should have died of alcohol poisoning. Frohike found me literally laying in the gutter where a three-day suit with throw up all over it. So yeah, I took it kind of hard.”

Scully’s face remained impassive but he could see the emotional turmoil in her blue eyes. “I still deserved to know.”

“Why? For your pity? Your spite?” He bit his lip to curb his sharp tongue. “Sorry, Scully.”

She watched him patiently. “Mulder, I’m your partner but over the past month or so, it doesn’t always feel like it. I don’t like her because I don’t trust her but it also feels like you don’t trust me either. You’d rather run off chasing monsters with her than me.”

“I don’t want to see anything happen to you! You mean so much more to me than she ever did. She’s expendable. You aren’t!”

Scully was stunned by his admissions. “What is that supposed to mean, Mulder? You aren’t responsible for me.” Her voice softened. “I told you that long ago, remember? I am here because I want to be. I’m not running, Mulder.”

Another long moment passed and ticking of a clock could be heard somewhere. “Well, this is awkward.”

They both chuckled slightly and the tension eased. “I don’t want you to lie to me, Mulder. Not anymore. Not because you are trying to protect me from some hurt feelings. We’re partners, agreed?”

“Of course.” Why would she ask such a question? “Scully, I know I screwed up last month. But I am tired of fighting and I suspect you are as well.”

“What gave it away?” Mulder could not tell if she was being sarcastic or not. She gave him a small smile. “I’m tired to walking around in circles with this, Mulder. Let’s just move on for the sake of moving on, huh?”

Mulder recognized the olive branch when he saw it but something stirred deeper within him. “Yeah.”

After a moment, she nodded and licked her lips. “Mulder, stay here tonight. I want to try anything if that is not you are worried about…”

It’s not, he thought miserably.

“I just rather be safe than sorry.”

“Of course.”

“Bathroom’s free.”

Mulder nodded and proceeded to get ready for bed as his heart pounded in his chest. Everything screamed in his chest that this wrong or a trap, but he finished getting ready for bed to find Scully already underneath the covers reviewing the file from earlier. “Put that way, Scully. We both need to sleep.”

“I will.”

Mulder sighed and crawled into the opposite side of the bed and leaned against the headboard. He tugged at the file and took it out of her hands. “Scully.”

“Fine, fine.”

The file was cast aside and they turned out the lights. Mulder heard Scully trying to get comfortable in the bed next to him. “You okay?”

“Yeah.”

She flopped onto her stomach and Mulder rolled to his side. Still unable to get comfortable, Scully grabbed the pillow to change it up. Without think, Mulder traced his hand down her spine and felt her freeze. “Trust me.”

Mulder only wanted to comfort Scully. That is all he wanted to do. She had already suffered so much for the sake of his quest and he owed her a lot. Scully relaxed as she felt the pressure from his fingertips start at the base of her neck, linger around where the chip was before slightly massaging the neck around the collar of her pajamas. He felt her shudder and relax. “Okay?”

Scully nodded into the pillow. “It’s just...no ones…” She bit her lip and silenced herself.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Mulder let it go for the time being as he moved into much more dangerous waters. “You don’t have to hide from me, Scully. My secrets out and yet you’re still here; you didn’t run.”

“I told you it takes a lot to scare me,” she whispered into the pillow. “If anything, I feel like the air has cleared.”

“Has it, Scully?”

“Let’s say it has,” she answered hypothetically. Her breath hitched as she felt his touch dip lower down his back. “Maybe things can change between us.”

“How so?”

“We see where things take us? We don’t rush. We don’t do anything to hurt each other.”

She turned her head to face him and he bent his head forward closer. “What does that leave us?”

“The unknown variable.” She studied his face trying to discern any clue to what he was thinking. “We don’t have to do anything. I just miss the trust that we had, Mulder.”

“Have,” he corrected. “We have trust, Scully.”

“Do we?”

He inched closer to her and she held her breath as he brushed his lips against hers. He felt her exhale reverently. “We do.”

“We can’t do anything, Mulder. Not while we’re on a case.” Her blood was screaming for more. “As much as I…we need to remain professional.”

“I know.”

He took her hand gently and kissed her open palm. “You want to talk, we can talk.”

Then there was another kiss on the inside of her neck. “You’re being distracting.”

“I’m proving a point, Scully.” He voice lowered and he grasped her hand. “Aside from teasing you, it’s you...it’s always been you. I may be a little lost…”

“Easily distracted.”

“Easily distracted but I’m back. We’re back, Scully and I know what’s important.” She knew better than to push her luck and what was happening was world’s away from where they had been. She nodded. “We still need to watch each other’s back. You ready for bed?”

Scully took his hand and lead him upstairs to the bedroom and Mulder, feeling emboldened wrapped an arm around her waist from behind and pulled her against him. “Not helping, Mulder.” She did not try to pull away either. He chuckled softly and kissed her shoulder. “Mulder.”

“I know, I know. You aren’t exactly saying no though,” he noted. “I’m going to get ready for bed. Do you want the bathroom?”

Reluctantly, she pulled away. “I’ll only be a minute.”

Scully went to the bathroom to prepare for bed while Mulder changed into a tee shirt and sleeping pants. It only took minutes before Scully emerged from the bathroom dressed in her cotton pajamas. Without even asking he pulled down the blankets and went to the left side of the bed. “I won’t do anything to ruin your chastity.”

“I’m hardly a virgin, Mulder.”

“You know what I mean, Scully.”

They both slid beneath the covers and Scully checked the nightstand for her service weapon before shutting it soundly. He watched her amused. “Do you need anything else?”

“I’m fine, Mulder.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.” Darkness once again welcomed them as the lights were turned out on either side of the bed. Scully turned onto her side with her back to him. “Do you think the trash monster will come,” she teased in the darkness.

“I don’t know,” he said, “but I think we’ll be okay.” She felt a hesitant hand rest on the curve of her hip and she tensed slightly. “I’m not going to try anything crazy. Just give me a chance, Scully.”

Mulder continued to test the waters between them. “What are you doing?”

“You let me kiss you earlier. I want to see what else you will let me try.”

“Mulder…”

“I’m still going to behave, Scully.” Mulder grew bolder and wrapped an arm around her waist. She felt him press himself against her back and she shivered at the sensation of being held by him. “Relax, relax...I’m not going to bite or turn into a trash monster.” She gave a light chuckle. “Is this okay?”

“I’m not a china doll,” she admonished.

Scully weaved her fingers with his and pulled his arm tighter. Mulder kissed the nape of her neck and was astonished how small she was and how well they fit together. Feeling Mulder’s ghostly touch through her clothes sparked fantasies that she had long suppressed. The impulse to do more than this also resurfaced. “Mulder, do you consider us to be just partners?”

She picked the vaguest and purposely professional word she could think of trying to test him. His hand disengaged from hers and for another odd second, her heart stopped due to her presumptive boldness. His hand dipped lower into the valley of her thigh and she clenched. “Was that kiss nothing? Yes were partners, but you are also my best friend who gets away with shooting me from time to time and saving my ass.” He kissed her again as his hand explored. “But I want us, like you said, to go about this later. We still need to talk and I don’t want to screw this up again. But like you said, we still have a job to do an there can be time for that later.”

“I can’t believe you’re being the voice of reason.” She reclaimed his hand and brought it to her chest. “We’re okay, right, Mulder?”

Their closeness was welcoming and she could already feel a change between them. He nodded into her shoulder. “We’re good. Let’s try and get some sleep, Scully. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”

. . . . . .

Chasing monsters, reflection pools, false scares, trash monsters, and a ruined suburban paradise. Mulder surveyed Gogolak’s dead body handcuffed in front of the mailbox and then looked back to the doorway to see Scully standing there as if in a daze. “Big Mike’s body is upstairs,” she said softly.

He looked down at his ruined jeans and then back to his partner. She looked worse for her with her hair askew. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she answered. She walked down the porch steps and took his hands momentarily and began to examine him for injury. “Are you okay, Mulder? No scrapes, bruises, or cuts?”

“I have trash in my shoes, but I’m okay other than that.” He watched the blinds snap shut over at the Schroder house. “I’ll call it in, Scully.”

. . . . . . . .

After almost a week, the case was finally closed. Scully found herself back in the same hotel where they had been at the beginning of the week. In her hotel, she eyed the adjoining door as Mulder strolled through without knocking carrying a bag of Chinese takeout and official looking FBI folders. She sat on her bed wearing jeans and a sweatshirt finally free from the vestiges of Laura Petrie. “Mulder, I told you no reports over dinner.”

“I just thought you would want to see what the lab boys found.”

“No reports. You promised, remember?”

“Fine, fine.” He cast the files on the hotel desk before joining her on the bed. “So, one order of beef and broccoli with fried rice for you, General Tso’s chicken for me, and two diet cokes.”

“Wonderful.” Scully helped spread the small feast across the bedspread. “And for the movie, The Exorcist.”

“A classic, Scully. We’ve only dealt with what, one possession?”

“Something like that. The first time I watched it was with Missy. We sneaked into the theatre together. I was nine. It scared me for months before I was able to sleep without my nightlight again.”

“Oh poor little Dana was scared of the dark,” Mulder teased.

“I was a good little Catholic, Mulder and it was the worst fears. Come on. Are you going to tease me for the rest of the night or are we watching the movie?”

He held up his hands in surrender. “Well let's get this movie started.”

Something must have changed over the past few days. There was less bickering and tension. The Chinese takeout was forgotten and put away into the mini fridge within the first 30 minutes. Mulder quickly reclaimed his spot to her on the hotel bed. Scully had scooted backward towards the pillows. He had somehow missed that she had taken the pillows from the extra queen bed and piled it onto the bed that they had been sitting on.

“Pillow fort, Scully?”

“It's turning into a sleepover, Mulder. Come back here.”

Mulder did not need to be told twice. He grabbed an extra blanket off the bed and pulled to where they were sitting. “Blanket fort helps too, Scully. A pillow can’t be structurally sound without a blanket fort.”

Scully watched him mirthfully and formed her lips into a silent Oh. Doing something he was forbidden to do a week ago, he lounged back into the mountain of pillows and Scully watched him amused. “Is this the new norm?”

“It could be.”

Mulder patted the right side of the bed invitingly as she chuckled. “Pillow and bed forts. Whoever thought the golden boy of the FBI was ever capable.”

“I am an agent of many talents which you’ll soon discover.” Scully joined him on the bed. “So I heard a medical doctor order a sleepover for the night.”

“You heard correctly.”

This was nice, this new thing between them. She settled back against the pillows with his arms framed around her. The hotel quilt was pulled up around them and she snuggled closer. “Maybe marriage did us good.”

“However brief but I always preferred being the good old boy.”

“You’re anything but good.”

Mulder pressed a heated kiss into the curve her shoulder and she shivered. “You have no idea.” His hand dipped lower. “Not during the movie?”

“You can soothe the nightmares away later, and the trash monsters.” She snuggled up next to him. “I want to watch this and be properly afraid.”

“What’s that mean, Scully?”

“I didn’t have anyone to hide with during the scary scenes.” She kissed him. “When we’re back home...maybe a few dates, maybe some other stuff.”

“The Yankees’ spring training is coming up…”

“Looks like you better plan a vacation or a conveniently placed case.”

He chuckled and hugged her closer. “I’ll settle for movie nights to begin with.”

#xfiles #xf fic #txf #txf fic #msr #mulder #scully #mulder and scully #msr fic #arcadia #angst #fluff #ust

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