#kai.fics

[kaiogiri]

Freedom (Poppy Playtime Fic) Ch. 1

A/N: Hello! This is the first chapter of my Poppy Playtime fic! This is also available on Wattpad so the link for that is below. I hope you enjoy, thank you for reading!

Wattpad link: Ch. 1

Don't look back. Don't look back. Keep going. Keep going. Run. Run. RUN!!!

Her thoughts screamed in her mind as her legs moved faster than her brain could process or comprehend. The rough panting that arose from her lungs and the exhaustion she felt couldn't outweigh the adrenaline coursing through her veins, forcing her to continue on. As she ran, the sound of a car's engine in the distance racing towards her only made her legs go even faster. 

Nadia desperately scanned her surroundings for somewhere to hide and take refuge. The location she was currently at offered no such comfort as she was quite literally in the middle of nowhere. No cars, no houses, no people. Absolutely nothing or anything that could help her at the moment. Finding something, anything to hide in, was vital for her survival at the moment. 

As if her prayer was answered, an abandoned factory that looked oddly familiar to her in the near distance was spotted and without hesitation, she raced towards it. Tears continued to endlessly stream down her face as she got closer to what she hoped would be her sanctuary. This is not how she expected her day to go. All she wanted to do was go hiking in the woods and spend some time resting by the same waterfall she had gone to for years. Getting kidnapped and having to fight for her life was most certainly not on her list and she genuinely was afraid she would not survive this encounter. 

Once she was in front of the building, Nadia raced down the driveway and to the side of the building and spotted a window, wasting no time picking up some rocks and stones on the ground and using them to smash out the window. Ignoring the presence of the broken glass, she hurriedly climbed in head-first. Upon entering the building, she ducked under the window, only daring to poke her head up just enough to see outside.

Nadia's heart stopped for a moment when she saw the car that was chasing her fly down the road, seemingly unaware she had taken refuge in this building. An audible sigh of relief left her as the car continued on the road. She was safe for now. For now. 

Standing to her feet, she took a few steps into the lobby and collapsed to her knees and then to her side from sheer exhaustion. A groan left her as she turned onto her back, now staring at the ceiling as ragged pants left her overused lungs. Raising her hand slightly as she panted, she touched the wound on her neck and hissed at the slight burning feeling. Luckily for her, she was able to fight back and get away before the knife was able to cut deep enough and cause her to bleed out fatally. 

Twenty minutes felt like an eternity for her as she lay on the cold floor, getting the much-needed break she needed. Still staring at the ceiling, tears threatened to stream down her face again as she finally processed the ordeal she went through. The fear of almost having her life ripped from her was a feeling she hadn't truly felt before and she did not like how it felt. 

As her adrenaline wore off and the exhaustion slowly faded, she sat up, using her arms to hold herself up as her eyes scanned the environment around her. This place looked eerily familiar but figuring out why was impossible for her at the present moment. Using her arms as leverage, Nadia pulled herself off the ground and began to properly inspect the space around her. 

The sight of blue finally caught her attention. Her previous adrenaline didn't let her brain process the sight when she first arrived but now she could properly see and ingest her surroundings. As she approached what she believed was a statue, the appearance became more clear to her. The "statue" was tall, way taller than a typical human, and was almost twice her height. It had blue fur, big yellow hands followed by two huge beady black eyes, and a big red smile. Looking at the statue for a moment, she looked down and noticed a poster board in front of her. 

The name read "Huggy Wuggy" with a 1984 birth/start date. Looking back up at Huggy Wuggy, she immediately remembered who they were and where she was. This was the Playtime Co. Toy Factory that was abruptly abandoned ten years ago. Memories of being a child and coming to this same factory flashed through her mind. She remembered her mother constantly purchasing plushies for her from this toy factory, including Huggy Wuggy and others. Nadia also remembered that her mother and stepfather worked here and that was the sole reason she was here years ago. While her parents worked, she spent time in Playcare, not only playing with the other children but also having some school lessons here before she was old enough to officially go to public school. Playcare was essentially her daycare and then as she grew older it became her pre-K and then became her after-school daycare when she started to attend school. It was the best decision for her household as it spared the expensive cost of childcare during the work week and she was able to be around and play with other children and receive education at the same time. Nadia's mother made her happiness, socialization, and education a top priority for her child and wanted her to have a good childhood.  

Nadia also remembered that fateful day, August 8th, 1995, when her parents went missing after leaving that morning to go to work. When Nadia came home later that day, she expected her mother to pick her up and bring her back to the factory. That was the typical routine, Nadia's mother would take her lunch break later in the day so she could use that time to pick up Nadia after she got off the bus and bring her to the factory, letting her play in PlayCare until both of her parents' shifts were over later that evening. Except that's not what happened on August 8th. Her mother wasn't home when Nadia arrived and neither she nor her stepfather came home when their shifts would have ended. 

The day after their disappearance, Nadia knocked on one of the neighbor's doors and informed them her parents hadn't back come home. That day was a blur for her but she remembered the police officers that came and took her to a new house as she was now in the custody of the state. August 8th and August 9th were two detrimental days that caused her once happy joyful life to turn into a years-long hellscape in the foster care system.

Trying not to reflect too much on those awful memories, Nadia headed into a room and looked around, her eyes catching a case with a strange contraption with hands connected to it, followed by a VHS tape next to it. Picking up the tape, she inserted it in the small box TV next to it and stepped back to observe the screen. 

The tape had referred to the contraption as a "GrabPack" and noted that it could be used to open doors and operate certain mechanics in the factory. Curiosity getting the better of her, she opened the case and picked up the GrabPack, making a note about how it was a little bit heavy for her but nonetheless, she put the shoulder straps on and tightened it, making it fit snuggly against her chest. Slipping her hands into the GrabPack's hands, she admired it for a moment before shooting the hand out, the unexpected force sending her flying backward, nearly falling to the ground but was able to catch herself before doing so. She decided to spend a couple of minutes getting used to the GrabPack as she deemed it necessary to get around the factory. 

After she felt comfortable enough using the GrabPack, Nadia went into another room, using one of the hands to open the door and enter. Eyes scanning the room, she saw machines and assembly lines, quickly figuring out this was the production zone for making the famous toys Playtime Co. was successful for. The thought of making her own toy to take as a souvenir crossed her mind and she wasn't hesitant in making that happen if it was possible.

The time it took to figure out the systems and how the machines worked made her feel slightly embarrassed but alas, she figured it out and a small smile formed as she held the "Candy Cat" plush in her hand and headed towards a different door. It did take her a moment to figure out that the security system involved in opening the door required placing the toy in a case to unlock it. As the door opened, Nadia turned to grab the toy back but a flash of blue appeared down the hallway and she turned to look. 

To her horror, the once Huggy Wuggy "statue" she met in the lobby was standing right there in front of her. Her eyes widened as she realized this wasn't a statue, it was a living, breathing toy. How? She had no clue. Although she was in shock, Nadia went to say something, a greeting, or something to acknowledge his presence but froze Huggy's eyes trailed to the still-fresh wound on her neck. There was a moment of silence before literal hell broke loose.

Before she could properly react or say anything, Huggy's mouth opened, exposing razor-sharp teeth as he lunged towards Nadia, causing her to scream in horror and fear, her legs and body turning around and running before her brain could process it. 

Frantic eyes scanned the room for a possible exit as she ran, only finding an opening to a vent as an escape exit. Not thinking twice, she made her way into the vent and ran as fast as she could, her speed and adrenaline increasing as Huggy followed her into the vent, desperate to catch her. She had no idea why he was chasing her but she wasn't going to wait around to find out. 

What she was going through felt like mouse chase #2 to her as she raced her way through the vents, taking sharp turns trying to elude Huggy which obviously did not work as he was still trailing dangerously close behind her. Tears began to stream down her cheeks again out of fear as she tried to comprehend how she was in this situation, running for her life for the second time today. To say Nadia was terrified was a brutal understatement. Believing she was going to die coursed through her and only made her adrenaline worse. She just wanted to go home and continue to live her life, not die in an abandoned toy factory after she had already been forced to run for her life. This was not fair. 

The exit from the vents finally appeared and she ran out, figuring out very quickly she was on a catwalk platform with Huggy still chasing behind her. Glancing over the edge, she took note of how far the drop was and for a moment, seriously contemplated jumping over. As insane and drastic as that idea was, in her frantic mind, she believed falling to her death would be more swift than whatever Huggy was going to do if he caught her. 

But before she could jump over, she noticed a box above her on the upper catwalk. Thinking she could slow him down, she hurriedly turned around and used one of the GrabPack's hands to knock the box down, as she saw Huggy getting dangerously closer to her. 

As if fate intervened, Huggy Wuggy went to lunge and grab her but was stopped as the box came tumbling down, the force of it snapping the catwalk, sending him falling straight down. Watching in horror, Nadia watched as Huggy hit multiple pipes on the way down, leaving a red blood stain on everything he came into contact with before finally hitting the ground, the impact sound booming in this section of the factory. Glancing over the side, she covered her mouth in shock as she saw Huggy's now lifeless body lying on the floor possibly hundreds of feet below her.

Nadia dropped to her knees and sobbed, her brain going into overdrive from all the trauma and events she just experienced. She began to go into a panic attack, hyperventilating over what happened, and grasped the sides of her head in panic. She killed him. He's dead because of her. Granted, he was desperate to kill her first but she wasn't trying to kill him. Just getting away and getting out of the factory was all she wanted. Now, she was trapped in here and lost deep inside the factory, knowing she wouldn't be able to get out on her own. 

Finally standing back up and wiping her tears, Nadia continued down the catwalk and stopped at the entrance of a door with a red poppy flower painted on the door and walls around it. Stepping inside, Nadia made the smart choice of locking the door, hoping that would provide her sanctuary and safety for now. Inside the room looked similar to a house with a living room and what looked like rooms connecting to it.

As she made her way to the old couch, she slumped onto it on her side, staring at the wall in front of her as breathly pants left her. Exhaustion crept up on Nadia as her eyes became too heavy to force open and found herself unwillingly fading into unconsciousness. This entire ordeal literally caused her to pass out from both the mental and physical exhaustion she suffered. 

At least for now in the moment, she was safe. How long she would be was a question she couldn't answer, but for now, she accepted the peace of slumber. For now, she was safe and protected.

#kai.fics #kai's works #poppy playtime #poppy playtime fanfics #poppy playtime fics #catnap #dogday #huggy wuggy #kissy missy #poppy

[scullyfemme]

#love him 4 that #kai.fic #x files

[kaiogiri]

Freedom (Poppy Playtime Fic) Ch. 2

A/N: Hello! I'm sorry it took so long to get this chapter out, I'm hoping the next chapters won't take as long as this one did. I hope you all enjoy reading and thank you so much for the support!

Wattpad link: Ch. 2

Nadia, wait up!" Aisha spoke as she tried to keep up with her daughter's pace. Although they arrived at PlayCare holding hands, Aisha knew Nadia's happiness of being here would cause her to break away and race towards Home Sweet Home with only one objective on her mind: seeing her best friend and only friend, Theodore Grambell. 

With Aisha not far behind her, Nadia almost burst through the front doors, racing down the halls until she found Theodore's room, pushing through the door, and stopped when she saw him sitting on the bed. 

"Hey, Theo!" Nadia exclaimed as she made her way to him and sat on the bed next to him, "Are you ready? Momma said we can go now if you are ready." 

"Yes!" Theodore cheered, "I couldn't sleep last night because I was so excited. Are you sure I'm allowed to go with you?"

"Yeah, Momma asked the people and they said you can go out with us for one day so Momma planned a whole bunch of places to go today!"

"Oh wow, that's awesome! Where are we going?" Theodore asked. He had never been allowed outside, let alone out in the real world and going to real places so this was an experience he yearned for and appreciated. His time and life were spent in a dome with fluorescent lights and no access to the outside world, this was a privilege he'd only receive once and a privilege the other children would never experience. 

"Momma said we are going to get breakfast first, then after that, we are going to the park, then the aquarium, the zoo, and the toy store. Momma said we're gonna try to do everything today! I'm so happy you can come with us!"

Finally catching up to Nadia, Aisha entered the room, a warm smile forming when she saw Nadia and Theodore. Theodore was already ready to go, wearing the best clothes he had with his shoes already tied. Aisha felt pity for the boy as he was not only an orphan but he wasn't even allowed to go outside and live life as a normal boy. Nadia had all the privileges and opportunities Theodore couldn't even comprehend and that alone tugged at her heartstrings. 

All the orphan children were like this. Granted, PlayCare sheltered them, fed them, clothed them, and educated them but none of them could live normal lives as children. All they could do was hope and pray that someone would take an interest in adopting them. Adoptions did happen but they weren't on a massive scale so for some of the older children, most if not their entire lives were spent in PlayCare, not aware an entire world existed outside the dome. Aisha wanted to give at least one of the children a taste of the outside world. 

Shaking her head, Aisha dismissed her thoughts for now and reached her hands out to Nadia and Theodore, signaling for them to come with her and they happily followed her. As they exited PlayCare, Theodore curiously looked around, PlayCare was the only area he had been exposed to so his eyes wandered wildly around the establishment, taking in every color and corridor his eyes could process. His "imaginary friend", The Prototype, had described the facility outside the PlayCare but seeing and processing it was different than what he was told.

After what felt like forever, they reached the lobby of Playtime Co and Aisha waved to the desk attendant before holding the door open for Nadia and Theodore, letting them exit first. Stepping outside, Theodore instinctively closed his eyes as the sun's rays hit him. Feeling the warmth of the sun and seeing the brightness of it was a first for him and he knew he was one of the lucky children to experience this. 

Walking to the car, Aisha helped the children enter the car and buckle them in before getting in the driver's seat and buckling herself, adjusting her mirrors before starting the engine and driving off. As they departed the factory, Theodore looked out the window and watched as they passed the building, studying the scenery around the factory that consisted of vast fields and the field of trees leading into the woods off into the distance. Just for today, he was free from the factory and the horrific crimes that were being committed inside. 

That day was the best day of his life. That day was his first and only experience with a lot of things many people take for granted in their everyday lives. He got to experience going to a diner and being able to have whatever he wanted for breakfast. He got to experience going to the aquarium and the zoo and seeing the animals he was taught about in the schoolhouse. He got to experience going to an actual park and playing on the swings and the slides. He also got to experience going to an actual toy store and picking out whatever toys he wanted. Although these toys weren't produced by Playtime Co, Aisha let him pick out whatever he desired and hoped Playtime Co wouldn't take the toys away, citing competitor reasons as their excuse. But for now, he could be a child and enjoy some type of normalcy. 

But, as with all good things, that day came to an end and Theodore had to be taken back to the factory. It was bittersweet for all three of them and Aisha felt genuine guilt returning a child to the conditions he lived in. After Nadia tearfully gave Theodore a goodbye hug, she approached her mother before following her back out of PlayCare.

"Momma," Nadia started, "I don't like leaving Theo here when we go home. Can we take him home with us one day? Like he can come live with us? He's my friend and I want him to have a home like I do." 

"You mean like adopting him?" Aisha did consider the idea, "I'd have to talk to your stepdad but I can try. Theodore deserves a loving home."

If only they both knew Theodore's life would be taken before he could even obtain the opportunity of a home. 

~

Dark brown eyes flew open as Nadia awoke, scanning the room before sitting up and raising her hand to the wound on her neck, hissing at the painful irritation it caused her. There was no mirror in sight to check how it was healing or the extent of how serious her previous wound was but she accepted that she was fine for now, considering she wasn't bleeding out on the floor and she could still properly breathe and speak. 

Standing up, she slipped the GrabPack's straps over her shoulders, adjusting the straps, and started to head towards the door. Before she reached the exit, a hallway to the right of her and a box at the end appeared in her vision.  Walking towards it, it became clearer in view and she began to make out what appeared to be a doll in the box. The doll had curly red hair styled into pigtails held up by blue bows with a porcelain white face and a blue fluffy dress.

Now, standing in front of it, she couldn't help her curiosity as she opened the case, just expecting to be able to examine the lifeless doll before leaving and trying to find an exit out of this hellscape excuse of a factory.

But that's not what happened. 

As the case was opened, the doll's eyes beamed open, blue irises boring right into hers. Oh no. This doll was alive, just like Huggy Wuggy was. Nadia's eyes widened in terror,  a small scream leaving her before turning around and fleeing towards the door, frantically unlocking it and almost tripping over herself as she raced across the catwalk. 

Nadia didn't dare to look behind her as she desperately looked for an exit or at least somewhere to hide. She began to aimlessly run down hallways and take sharp turns, desperate to elude the doll she was fairly certain was chasing her and would kill her if she failed to get away. 

As she reached a dead end, panic coursed through Nadia as she turned her head in every direction, mentally begging to find a way out. She froze as she heard hard and heavy footsteps behind her and turned around, her eyes widening at what she saw in the hallway, slowly approaching her. 

Genuine fear and terror rushed through her veins as she made out the figure that was approaching her. It was insanely tall, the same height as Huggy Wuggy, and looked exactly like him except this figure was pink instead of blue. Possibly a female version of him. In its hand, it held the doll Nadia had released. 

Violent memories of her ordeal with Huggy Wuggy flashed through her mind, and her breath caught in her throat. Her lungs ached as she began to get close to hyperventilating. Backing up, Nadia's back hit the wall as she fell to the ground, holding her hands over her face as she begged for her life, "Please don't kill me! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!-"

"Hey," The doll began, "It's okay-"

Nadia didn't listen and continued to desperately plea for mercy, "I'm so sorry, please don't hurt me! Please don't kill me! I just want to go home, I want to go home, please let me go home! I'll never come back, I promise."

Nadia expected a final blow and her existence to be snuffed from her. But it never came. Nadia froze for a few moments before moving one of her hands so she could see in front of her. The doll and the female Huggy Wuggy just stood in front of her, unmoving as if they were waiting for Nadia to calm down. 

The pink figure lowered her hand to the floor, the doll hopping off of it, slowly approaching Nadia and held her hands up when she noticed Nadia still trying to scoot away, even with her back against the wall. 

"It's okay," The doll began to speak again, "It's okay, I know you are scared, we aren't going to hurt you at all. You're safe here." 

Although fear was still occupying her mind, Nadia's breathing began to soften as her muscles and limbs became less tense. Even though the doll wasn't even half her height and the female Huggy Wuggy didn't appear to be hostile, she still was cautious and on edge. 

"W-Who are you?" Nadia bravely asked, her eyes looking at the doll and then back up at the pink figure, "H-How are you both alive?" 

"I am Poppy," The doll pointed to herself before pointing at the towering figure behind her, "And this is Kissy Missy, Kissy for short. We were made this way. We've been down here for a long, long time. I was locked in that god-awful case for so long until you freed me. I'm sorry we scared you." 

"It's okay. I'm just trying to get out of here. I don't belong here. I got kidnapped and attacked and came here to hide. I just want to go home. My best friend probably thinks I'm dead and is looking for me. I need her to know I'm alive." 

Poppy stayed quiet for a moment before looking at Kissy and then back at Nadia, "I think we can help with that." 

Nadia tilted her head in confusion, "How so? This place seems like a maze and I am definitely lost." 

"I know where we are," Poppy continued, "We can take you to the Game Station. There is a train there that will take you to the loading docks and you can leave through the doors there." 

Kissy approached Nadia, holding her hand out to her. Looking up at Kissy, Nadia hesitated for a moment before taking her hand. Kissy helped her to her feet, giving her a small friendly wave afterward. 

"Thank you," Nadia spoke as she began to follow Kissy and Poppy. As they traveled, Nadia could now focus on the dozen or so posters on the walls as they made their way to the Game Station. Some of the posters consisted of Kissy Missy and Poppy and even some of the now-late Huggy Wuggy and there were also posters of toys Nadia hadn't met or encountered yet. She quietly hoped she wouldn't. Sure, Poppy and Kissy Missy weren't hostile to her but she didn't want to take that chance with the others. Her only priority was to get home and reunite with her best friend, Nicola. Any extra minute in this place was not favorable to her. 

Once they arrived at the Game Station, Nadia was in awe at the scenery before she spotted the train that Poppy was talking about. A small smile formed on her face as she met her way out. Finally, she was going home.

Stopping in front of the train, Kissy opened the conductor's door before motioning for Nadia to step inside. Following her orders, Nadia kneeled down and stepped in, sitting down and turning to face Kissy and Poppy. 

"Kissy and I will have to stay here to operate the train for you. It is a long ride to the loading dock but nothing will bother you on the way there." 

"Thank you so much," Nadia smiled at them and watched as Kissy closed the door for her. 

The sound of the train starting and its horn blaring spooked Nadia for a moment but quickly regained her composure. As the train began to operate and slowly started moving, Nadia gave a thankful wave to Kissy and Poppy until they were out of her sight. 

As the train picked up speed, Nadia sighed in relief. Her brain was still processing that her nightmare experience was almost over and that she'd finally see the sun again. She'd be able to go back to her life and continue pursuing her dreams. A smile stayed on her face the entire time, unable to mask her joy and excitement. 

But it all came to a screeching halt when Poppy's voice came over the train's radio. 

"I'm so sorry," Poppy spoke with a tone of sadness and empathy, "I can not let you leave."

"Wait what?" Nadia frantically conversed back, "Wait- what are you doing?" 

"We've never met anyone like you. You are different than the others. You are strong. Terrible things have happened here and I believe you are capable of saving all of us and setting us free. I'm sorry, I truly am. I want you to go home but I can't let you leave. I hope you can forgive me. I'm so sorry." 

The train began to accelerate and took a sharp turn off course, sending Nadia down a totally different path than she was intended to go on. She had no idea where she was heading and began to panic. 

"NO! Poppy! Please don't do this to me! Please!" Nadia pleaded as she tried to pull the brake pedal, her panic rising even more when she realized it wasn't working. Tears began to stream down her face as she began to scream and cry in confusion, fear, and frustration. She began to have a panic attack as she tried to desperately think of a way to make the train stop and her anxiety only rose higher as the train began to pick up unsafe speeds. Still pulling on the brake lever, Nadia put all her might into pulling it down. The sound of the brakes squealing and the force of it send Nadia backward. 

Shaking her head and looking up, her eyes widened in terror as she noticed the train tilting, a guttural scream came from her as the train came to a halting stop, the force of it sending Nadia's body forward, slamming her head and immediately fell unconsciousness as the sound of the train crash loudly boomed through the tunnel.

Nadia was almost free and so close to freedom before it was taken from her again.

#kai.fics #kai's works #poppy playtime #poppy playtime fanfics #poppy playtime fics #catnap #dogday #huggy wuggy #kissy missy #poppy

[scullyfemme]

Basketball

After their New Year’s kiss, Mulder takes Scully on yet another sports-related date

Post-ep for Millenium | 2,000 words | tagging @today-in-fic​

---

“Happy New Year, Scully.”

“Happy New Year, Mulder.”

His smile was open and exuberant while hers was quieter; it was a more personal smile meant only for her. Their very real, potentially world-ending kiss had been quick and chaste, but they both felt it lingering. Lingering on their lips and in the air around them. He looped his good arm around her shoulders and led them both down the hallway to leave the hospital.

As soon as they turned the corner, though, she stopped, a hesitant look on her face. This hallway was darker, a bit emptier since most of the people here were gathered in rooms with TVs. He looked down to ask what was up, but before he could do so, she turned and rose up on her toes to give him another kiss.

It was as chaste as the one to ring in the year, but not nearly as quick. Their lips stayed closed against each other's, both of them wary of frightening the other by moving too fast.

When she pulled away, it was still too soon. He resisted the urge to protest, instead just watching her for cues.

Scully's eyes were bright with excitement as she searched his face, absentmindedly licking her lips like she always did. Her lips twitched for a moment, then a smile fully bloomed on her face. She looked almost giddy, something he wasn't quite used to seeing.

“Was that okay?” She asked, and of course she would ask that. They'd both barged into each other's personal space and personal lives and personal what-have-yous countless times, but this specific thing was the only one that they did a careful dance around.

Her smile was contagious; he couldn't help it as one spread across his own face. “Of course.”

Her smile turned sheepish and she looked away, looping her arm around his middle as his fixed itself around her shoulders again. They continued through the hospital with no more pit stops.

“Where do you wanna go now?” She asked. It was an open-ended question. No doubt she saw it as safer than asking What do you want to do now?

His smile returned as he remembered his initial New Year's plans. “I have an idea.”

—-

“This is…not exactly what I thought you had in mind,” Scully couldn't keep the confusion out of her tone as she looked out across the outdoor basketball court. It was completely empty; anyone else in the park right now was probably somewhere better for launching fireworks.

“What'd you think I meant?” He asked, his expression one of exaggerated innocence. He knew exactly where she thought his mind had gone. At her inability to respond, he grinned devilishly. “Dana Scully, you dog.”

“Shut up, Mulder.” Her face burned.

She'd initially driven him home, but this was apparently only so he could pick up a mysterious bag. He then insisted on driving to their actual location, which she'd protested against due to him having only one good arm and being on painkillers. He'd countered by saying that they barely gave him any and that they were already wearing off. She'd relented, but only because he was the only one who knew how to get to this secret location.

Now that they were here, though, she felt like she should've insisted on staying at his place. Maybe her extra kiss wasn't enough to let him know how she was feeling, what she wanted. Even with his bad arm, there were quite a few things they were able to do.

Basketball, apparently, was one of them. Mulder dropped the bag off his shoulder and deftly opened it with one hand before pulling out a brand new basketball. He stood up and started dribbling.

“C’mon, Scully. How ‘bout a game?” He offered the ball out to her.

A laugh escaped her, ringing clear between the booms of fireworks. “Mulder, did you really bring me out here to play basketball on New Year's Eve?”

“Technically, it's New Year's Day.” He winked. “And why wouldn't I?”

“Well, your arm's in a sling.”

“Which evens out the playing field. That's my good arm.”

She just shook her head, an incredulous grin on her face. He'd already had the basketball, which means he was already planning this. Of course he did. And of course he wouldn't let an injured arm get in the way of a date.

“You've never shot a basket, have you, Scully?”

You've never hit a baseball, have you, Scully? His words echoed in her mind as she recalled that night at the baseball fields. She'd lied back then, of course. Tomboy Dana Scully who shot BB guns with her brothers had played many a game of baseball as a kid, but adult Dana Scully had understood Mulder’s question like a chess move. And in two quick moves of her own, she'd successfully gotten herself wrapped in his arms while his hips pressed against hers to guide her through the motions of swinging a bat. Is it still a checkmate if both parties win?

“No, I haven't,” she lied again, but this one felt like less of a lie. She was never good at basketball. “Guess I've had better things to do with my time.”

He grinned again and motioned her over. She obliged, moving to stand next to him on his left side. His good side. They both faced the basket.

“Alright, so,” he easily maneuvered the ball in his hand, putting his palm under it with the heel of his hand facing forward while his fingers supported the back of the ball. “This is how you wanna hold it with your dominant hand. That's your shooting hand.”

She nodded as if she didn't already know this.

“Your other hand — I can't exactly show you right now — but your other hand is going to cradle the side of the ball. That's just to keep it safe; your right hand is gonna do all the work.”

She nodded again, watching him with amusement. He was cute like this, when he talked about sports. Not that she would admit that to him anytime soon.

“Now,” He bent down a bit to put the ball down, then straightened up and took her hand in his. “With basketball, it's all in the wrist. You're gonna want to keep your hand straight” -he straightened out her fingers- “and let your wrist do all the work.” He gently pulled her hand back so it was in a similar position to how his had been, then wrapped his hand around her wrist, his thumb at the inner base of her hand.

It was an excuse to touch her. They always needed excuses. Baseball dates with his arms around her, movie nights on his couch where they pretended their thighs weren't pressed together, unnecessary check-ups when his head hadn't even been damaged just so she could run her fingers through his hair. This was part of their dance, their endless movements around each other, both afraid to make a bold move.

His thumb pressed into the joint and her wrist bent forward in reaction. “Just like that,” he murmured, and she realized his shoulder was pressed against hers.

The warmth of his body disappeared for a moment as he dropped down to pick the ball back up. He handed it off to her and she held it up in both hands, ready to shoot but waiting for his cue.

“Alright. Now, remember.” He moved slightly behind her and his hand curled under her elbow to prop it up. She suppressed a shiver as his voice came as a low murmur in her ear. “You want to keep your eye on the basket. Your arm is what's propelling the ball, but your wrist is the aim. Keep your eye on the basket, push upward,” -his thumb rubbed her arm as his lips brushed against her ear- “and let your wrist carry it through.”

Scully's cheeks burned and her mouth felt dry. He moved away to give her space for the shot and she immediately craved his warmth against her. She swallowed it down, though, and tried to focus. No way was she making this shot, but she at least had to look like she was trying.

She stepped forward and actually managed to follow his instructions, but everything was just a bit off. Whether it was her lack of skill or the fact that she was more focused on the memory of his body against hers, she didn't know. The ball hit the backboard — just shy of center — and rebounded off, bouncing on the ground below and rolling back past them.

“That was pretty good.” He sounded genuinely impressed, suddenly close behind her again. “Wanna go again?”

Scully hesitated before answering. It was just like the baseball date. He wouldn't make a move past what was allowed within the limits he'd already set up. It was hard to tell whether it was out of respect for her boundaries or fear of scaring her away. Time to play chess.

“Show me the wrist thing again?” She asked. He obliged, moving sideways a bit as he wrapped his hand around her wrist and pressed his thumb into the joint again.

Her hand didn't keep proper form this time as her wrist bent forward, but she didn't care. She let her hand slip down his grip as she turned to face him, then intertwined her hand with his. She wrapped an arm around his middle in lieu of putting a hand on his shoulder for fear of hurting him.

He smiled down at her, looking confused but entertained. “What’re you doing?”

Dancing, she thought to herself as she pressed a bit closer to him. They didn't sway, though. There was no music to dance to. For a moment they just stood there, looking like they were both waiting for a cue. Waiting for the music to start.

Scully felt her heartbeat spread from her chest throughout her body, up into her throat and down into her fingertips. She wondered if he could feel it, too. If he knew what she was trying to do. She had to be the one to make the move because he wouldn't do it. Wouldn't want to risk scaring her away. She had to let him know she wasn't scared. Not of this.

Her breath was shaky, and she knew her voice would be too once she finally spoke. She was nervous even though she had no right to be. She knew how he felt, knew he would return the sentiment. He'd already said it before, in fact. Over a year ago.

“Mulder,” She paused, wondering how to word her thoughts. “Do you remember when you were in the hospital?”

“Which time?” He smiled warmly, his eyes glinting with humor.

Scully opened her mouth to answer, to explain. After the Bermuda Triangle. What he'd said to her. But instead, she decided to forgo the preamble.

“I love you.”

The words took him aback and he tried to pull away on instinct. “Scully-”

Her grip was ironclad, though, as she kept him in place. “I mean it.”

“Are you sure?” He searched her face as if he was worried she’d take it back.

She knew what his question really meant, just like he knew what her statement really meant. For every word they spoke aloud, there were always ten more in a hidden message. It wasn’t actually a question of whether she loved him; they were both well aware of the answer to that. But her saying it out loud was a signal. When he asked if she was sure, it wasn’t in regards to whether she loved him or not. He was asking if she was sure she was ready.

Instead of saying so, she opted to rise up on her toes and press her lips against his for the third time that night. His hand let go of hers and wrapped around her middle, pulling her closer as she did the same to him, both careful to avoid his injured arm that was in danger of being sandwiched between them.

It was impossible to tell how much time passed before she pulled away, her hand once again seeking his.

“Thought I made it obvious earlier, but apparently I didn't.”

“Well, you know me, Scully.” He grinned, looking euphoric. “I need a lot of proof before I'll believe something.”

Instead of rolling her eyes, she simply grinned. “Well,then I'd suggest we get out of here.”

His eyebrows shot up as she stepped away, leading him hand-in-hand back to the car.

They forgot about the basketball.

#this was inspired by me and my gf playing basketball w our friend's mom on new years #but it wasn't nearly as romantic as this lmao #kai.fic #xf fic

[scullyfemme]

smut prompt 7?

Prompt: “You know, there wasn’t a single thing to eat in the kitchen until you walked in”

Established Relationship (can take place whenever) | Explicit | 2k words | Tagging @today-in-fic | Read it on Ao3

—

Midnight Snack

Something pulled Scully from unconsciousness and into that limbo state between sleep and wakefulness. After a few moments, she realized it was because she was cold. Naked under her sheets on a harsh February night, she almost started to shiver.

With a short grunt, she rolled over to press herself into the warmth of the body next to her, only to realize that Mulder wasn’t in her bed. She sat up, blearily blinking into the darkness of her room to try and make out any shadowy shape that could be her partner.

But he was gone. She frowned, wondering where he went. He wouldn’t just up and leave in the middle of the night; they were far past any point in their sexual relationship for one of them to get cold feet. And in any case, she was the one more likely to do so.

The clock read well past two in the morning. She sighed and reluctantly threw the sheets off of herself, then immediately regretted the decision. Teeth nearly chattering, she quickly tucked her feet into her slippers and wrapped her fluffy winter robe tightly around herself. She stood there for a moment, willing herself to warm up a bit before venturing out of her room to find her space heater and chastise him for leaving her.

As soon as she opened her bedroom door, the light from her kitchen gave away his location. Holding back a yawn, she trudged down the hallway and into the kitchen, arms wrapped tightly around herself in a self-warming hug.

Mulder was raiding her fridge. Or attempting to, rather. At the sound of her slippers scuffing across the kitchen tile, he straightened up and quickly closed the fridge, a guilty look on his face.

Her mild irritation turned to amusement. “Looking for a midnight snack?” She teased.

He hesitated, but then his expression changed and his eyes raked over her body in a way that made heat pool in her belly. They’d already had a few rounds earlier tonight, but they were both far from sated, it seemed. Especially if he was looking at her like that when she was bundled up in her thick robe.

“I was,” he admitted, stepping closer to her. “But…you know, there wasn’t a single thing to eat in the kitchen until you walked in,” he murmured, his eyes raking over her again.

The heat spread from her belly up to her face and she averted her gaze, still not used to such overt comments from him. Without warning, he scooped her up and — ignoring her yelp of protest — deposited her on a counter.

“Mulder-”

His name transformed into a moan as he kissed her just behind her ear — a spot he knew was sensitive — and trailed down her neck, sucking firm enough for her to feel it but gently enough so as not to leave any marks. She’d chastised him before for leaving marks where they could be seen. He worked down below her collarbone, to areas where he had free reign to use his teeth.

A couple hickeys from earlier that night already decorated her chest, but he added to them anyway, relishing in the sounds she made when he did so. He pulled her robe apart, grateful that she hadn’t put anything on underneath it, and took one of her nipples into his mouth.

She let out a heavy breath, head falling back to lean against the cabinet behind her as her hand wound through his hair and lightly tugged — rewarding him. He’d sheepishly confessed to liking having his hair pulled after one of their first encounters. Mulder sighed contentedly through his nose at the sensation as his tongue circled her nipple.

“Ahh,” Her voice was euphoric, but then protest entered her tone. “Mulder.”

“C’mon, Scully.” He pulled away just enough that his warm breath landed on her nipple. “You’re telling me you’ve never fantasized about getting eaten out on a kitchen counter?” He let his voice drop to a low rumble as he traced down her abdomen with his lips, kneeling down in front of her now.

She watched him lower himself, eyes barely open as her head still leaned against the cabinet. Her legs were closed, knees pressed together, and he kissed each one before his eyes flicked up to meet her gaze, silently asking her — practically begging her — for permission.

And God, if that didn’t do it to her. After only a split-second of hesitation (she’d originally planned to hold out much longer to tease him), she let her legs fall open, inviting him in. With a grin, he wrapped his arms under her legs and pulled her forward slightly so that she was at a better angle for him, then wasted no time getting to work.

Scully was glad her head was already against the cabinet, because otherwise she would have thrown it back and possibly hurt herself at the sudden onslaught Mulder was giving her. He’d eaten her out plenty of times before this, but those were mostly slower, as if in reverence. Now, though, he was ravishing her, his tongue having quickly memorized all of her best spots long ago and going over them with gusto.

“Oh,” she cried out, one hand tugging on his hair while the other flew above her head in search of something to grab in order to ground herself. Her nails scrabbled against the cabinet behind her as she leaned against it for leverage while pushing her hips further towards his mouth. “Oh!”

His tongue dipped inside her and swirled around and her grip on his hair tightened as she shouted, “Shit!”

He smiled against her and pulled his tongue out, but quickly replaced it with two — no, three — of his fingers before she could complain about its absence. God, was she already able to fit three fingers? His mouth returned to her clit as his fingers curled forcefully into her g-spot, causing her to keen.

He was relentless, circling and sucking her clit like it was his job while his fingers deftly stroked her g-spot at an angle she’d never quite felt before now. Her nails continued to scrape against the cabinet and his scalp as she felt herself hurtling towards the edge. She felt something else, too. Something she didn’t know how to stop and — frankly — didn’t care to at this moment.

“Oh, God! Mulder! Mulder!” Her hips bucked forward one last time as she came, her whole body shaking with spasms. For a moment, she thought she’d blacked out. She quickly realized that she hadn’t, though, as she started to come down from her high and realized her hand was still holding Mulder’s head hostage against her.

“Sorry.” The word was a struggle to get out as she quickly released him.

“Don’t be,” he mumbled as he rocked back on his knees and looked up at her, his mouth glistening. His neck was glistening too, in fact. And his shirt was wet…

“Holy shit,” she breathed, her face burning as she realized just what that other sensation had been.

He grinned up at her, looking absolutely delighted. “That was new.”

“Oh my God.” Her hand instinctively went to cover her face in embarrassment. “Mulder, I’m-”

“God, Scully, please don’t apologize.” He begged her and let his head fall sideways to rest against her thigh. He sighed wistfully, looking at her with adoration that she felt was inappropriate for the situation. “That was so hot.”

His words of assurance only served to embarrass her more, though. Her face somehow managed to burn hotter than it just did. “Mulder-”

“Mm-mnh.” He shook his head, pressing a kiss to her inner thigh before standing up and leaning over to grab a paper towel.

She sighed and relented, giving up her instinct to apologize as she watched him wipe off his face and neck. Her head rested against the cabinet again, and as she relaxed she realized just how sated she felt. God, that was good.

“That was…” She trailed off, closing her eyes as she recalled the feeling. She opened them to see him looking at her with an innocent question in his eyes, as if he genuinely didn’t know how she was going to finish the sentence. As if he really did not realize what he’d just done to her.

“Amazing,” she finished, looking him up and down in praise.

He smiled sheepishly and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Wait here,” he whispered. It was an unnecessary command, since she was sure she couldn’t move right now anyway. Or ever again.

She watched him leave the kitchen, realizing that her robe was wet where she sat on it. She’d have to wash it.

The thought caused her cheeks to burn again and she pushed it away. She found that she didn’t care much, actually. Not right now, at least. Maybe in the morning, but right now she was too content.

He returned in a new shirt and holding a washcloth, then turned her kitchen sink on and let it run until the water heated up. Her high was dissipating even more now, and in its place she was feeling the weight of sleep threaten her.

He wet the washcloth with hot water, then returned to her and circled an arm around her waist to keep her propped up while he wiped the washcloth over her to clean her, starting with her inner thighs.

“Mul-” The protest died on her lips as she realized how nice it felt and she willed herself to relax. The heat from the cloth relaxed her muscles as he moved up her thigh and she let out an audible sigh.

He chuckled and leaned down to kiss her cheek as he gently ran the washcloth over her center, careful to avoid her oversensitive clit. She let her head fall forward to rest on his shoulder and let out another contented sigh. After a moment, she vaguely registered the feeling of her robe falling off her shoulders before he took her arms, looped them around his shoulders, then lifted her up.

“Mm,” she grunted. “Wha…”

“You’re tired,” he murmured in her ear.

“Mm-mnh.” Her voice was muffled against his shoulder. “S’your turn.”

He snorted and she felt herself being lowered down onto the bed. “Trust me. After that display, I’m more than fine.”

“Wait,” she mumbled. “Hafta pee.”

“You need me to carry you to the bathroom?”

She grunted non-committally, but he took it as a yes and picked her back up.

“You’re too nice,” she murmured.

“Yeah, well I’m not gonna stay and monitor your peeing, if you don’t mind.”

She managed a breath of a laugh. “Rather you didn’t.”

“Can you stand?”

Heaving a sigh of effort, she lowered her legs and sought the ground beneath her. When her toes felt the cold tile below her, she realized she’s lost her slippers somewhere between Mulder lifting her onto the counter and now. She managed to stand in a somewhat stable fashion and nodded.

“Alright. I’m gonna go finish cleaning up.”

He left and she managed to pee and make it back to the bed, though she didn’t remember doing any of it. In her defense, it was now almost three in the morning and she had already been tired out before he’d given her the eating-out of a lifetime. She collapsed onto the bed and curled up under the sheets, feeling like she was fading back into that limbo state again when she felt a weight slightly shift the mattress.

She lightly grunted as she nudged forward to press into him, finally able to steal his warmth. His breathy chuckle tickled her hair and he snaked an arm under her to pull her closer, bringing his leg up to wrap around her almost protectively.

“Mmm.” She hummed and sighed contentedly, then mumbled something that was unintelligible.

“Hm?”

“‘m gonna get you t’morrow,” she repeated.

He chuckled again. “I’ll hold you to that,” he murmured against the top of her head before kissing it. “I love you.”

She hummed something that was clearly meant to be an “I love you, too” before her breathing evened out.

#Anonymous #this took so long to post bc for some reason the ending doesn't sit right with me #but now im like fuck it #kai.fic #xf fic #msr fic

[scullyfemme]

Fluff prompt: How about...Mulder sitting on Scully’s lap?

This might not be what you were intending but I had fun with this prompt adnsldks

Request some winter/holiday fluff!

tagging @today-in-fic 

---

Eggnog

Whatever the Gunmen put in their eggnog, it was strong. It was sharp to the taste, and Scully had a feeling it was more like rum with essence of eggnog. It was tough to drink even for her.

That didn’t seem to stop I-don’t-drink-much Mulder, though. Especially once Langly challenged everyone to a drinking contest. The holiday gathering — already leaning too much on the masculine side — felt significantly more like a frat party after that. Scully didn't want to be a wet blanket, didn't want to let herself become the matronly chaperone to four grown men, so she relaxed. And despite her better judgment, she joined in the contest. The men were halfway done, so she didn't drink as much as them, but she was met with great applause as she downed her third glass of nog.

The Gunmen started blasting music she didn't recognize and Byers and Langly both started dancing in jarred, drunk movements. She accepted a dance from Frohike -- who was surprisingly light on his feet -- and found herself giggling as he twirled her, and what surprised her more was that she didn’t mind. That is, until she twirled right into Mulder. After an awkward beat, she giggled again despite herself and he smiled down at her as he took her waist, dancing far too slow for such a fast song. It was nice, though, so Scully didn’t protest.

Later on, she sat languidly on one end of the couch while Byers and Langly played a one-off match of some fighting video game she didn't know. She had no idea what Mulder and Frohike were up to and frankly, she didn't care as her head fell back against the couch. The images on the screen and the shouts from the two men next to her started to fade into the background, lulling her to sleep.

And then a heavy weight landed in her lap.

She let out an ungraceful oof at the impact and glared up at Mulder, who just looked down at her quizzically. He had fallen sideways onto her, his long legs dangling over the arm of the couch.

“Oh. Sorry, Scully. Didn't see ya there.” He didn’t try to move, though, instead continuing to look down at her blankly as she started repeatedly pushing him. He didn’t budge.

“Jeez, Mulder.” Byers, who was situated between Scully and Langly, leaned around Mulder’s intruding form to see the TV. “Warn a guy next time.”

“Mul- der- you're- too- heavy-” Scully grunted as she tried to push him off of her.

Frustrated, Byers got up from the couch and sat on the floor closer to the TV, caring more about the video game than the potentially-crushed woman next to him.

“Mul- er-” She finally, successfully, managed to push him off her lap. Just a bit. Enough so that his butt was on the couch instead of her thigh, rendering most of his body weight on the seat next to her. His legs, longer than should be legal, still draped over her while his feet dangled off the couch.

With a sleepy sigh, he laced his arms around her and tucked his head into the crook between her shoulder and neck, settling in quicker and easier than he probably should. 

“Mm, you're soft,” he murmured, snuggling closer to her. 

“Mulder-” Her face burned a bright red as she looked around self-consciously for witnesses. Byers and Langly paid no attention to them, all their focus on the game. Frohike was nowhere to be found. “Mulder, you can't fall asleep on me.”

He grunted. “Why not?”

“Because-” she stopped, realizing she didn't have a valid reason. Not one that would convince a drunk person, at least. “Because I don't want you to.”

“Mm.” He adjusted his head on her shoulder to get more comfortable, and she tried to ignore the fact that she didn’t actually mind this. “I thought you liked me,” he mumbled.

Her ears burned. He opened his eyes and looked up at her softly, and she realized just how close he was. It would be so easy to lean down, to press her lips against his for even a fleeting moment. If she’d had just a little bit more alcohol in her, she might have thrown caution to the wind. But she was just sober enough to remember the potential consequences, the implications of kissing him like this.

“I wanna kiss you,” he whispered, clearly holding onto fewer of his inhibitions than she was. It was so quiet that she barely heard it, much less Byers or Langly.

She swallowed, thinking again of how easy it would be. How nice. The fact that they were both thinking the same thing should have come as a comfort, but it only made her more nervous. She could write it off, claim to be more drunk than she was. But she couldn't let herself. She wished she'd joined in that drinking contest earlier than she had. Maybe then this would be easier. 

Instead, she leaned down to his ear and whispered a quiet “me too,” relying on the odds that he wouldn't remember this in the morning as he fell asleep on her shoulder.

#kai.fic #x files #xf fanfic #msr fic #prompts #Anonymous

[scullyfemme]

Tasting More Than Wine

From the prompt sent in to @baronessblixen: M&S going to Napa Valley for a case, eventually they visit the wineries, get drunk and make out like there’s no tomorrow

I hope you like this!

s7 | 2k words | Mature | Tagging @today-in-fic | Read it on Ao3

---

In hindsight, they probably should have expected this from a case involving a winery.

“Oh, please stay for the wine tasting!” Mrs. Lancaster clasped her hands together in a pleading gesture that didn’t quite fit her upper-crust style and demeanor. “It’s the least we could do after you saved our crops. Free of charge!”

Mulder and Scully both stumbled over their words as they tried to refuse the offer.

“Oh, that’s-”

“We just-”

“We have our-”

“Our flight.”

Mrs. Lancaster simpered. “Why, that’s not until tomorrow!” She moved between the two and hooked each of their arms in one of hers, surprisingly strong as she led them into the ornate building. Inside, a crowd of other upper-class strangers were mingling before the tasting.

“Mrs. Lancaster, we couldn’t-”

“Oh, what the FBI doesn’t know won’t hurt them!” She winked before slipping back through the doors and closing them, virtually locking the two in with some of California’s most affluent.

It was one of the top wineries in the region with very “exclusive” tours and tastings. And by exclusive, they mean expensive. So much so that it was nearly only millionaires who could afford to attend in their crisp linen shirts and thousand-dollar sundresses. Which meant that Mulder and Scully — in their department-store business wear — stuck out like sore thumbs.

Everyone in the room seemed to give them a once-over at the same time. All drew the same conclusion that whoever these two were, they were not worth their highly valuable time. But the tasting soon started, which gave them something to do.

Mulder and Scully, as usual, stood apart from the crowd. They hung near each other and made no attempts to try conversing with the people who likewise were not interested in conversing with them.

Mulder looked around at the women in the room, who reminded him of his childhood summers at the Vineyard. The older women resembled his mother’s DAR friends in their pristine dresses and perfect, sparkling jewelry. The younger women — who were few and far between — made him think of the privileged, prissy rich girls from his boarding school and Oxford days. Ignoring the five S’s of wine tasting, he downed his next sample like a shot. Scully noticed.

Scully, meanwhile, observed the men in the room. Unlike Mulder, she hadn’t had much childhood experience with rich people. But she’d rubbed elbows — well, more like jabbed elbows — with a fair few in med school. The older men who used their status as esteemed doctors to try and take advantage of her, who didn’t care one lick about a patient’s well-being as long as they got their paycheck. The younger men who slept in class while their fathers paid for their grades, then would shamelessly hit on her as if she wanted anything to do with them. She downed her next sample like a shot. Mulder noticed.

Half an hour later, the two were on the verge of tipsy when one exceedingly brave soul decided to debase himself by speaking to them.

“So, are you two…” The younger man eyed them both up and down in assessment. “Businessmen?”

“Uh, FBI agents, actually,” Mulder said while Scully bristled at the fact that the man’s eyes had lingered on her chest for far too long.

“Ah.” They could both see the man’s mind failing to connect the dots between FBI agents and super-expensive wine tasting. “Well, if you’ll excuse me.” He left without waiting to see if they would.

“Must have been hoping to close a deal,” Mulder muttered.

Scully rolled her eyes. “If it weren’t for the alcohol, I’d say this is the worst thanks we’ve ever gotten for a case.”

He chuckled. “Then what would you say is the worst thanks we’ve ever gotten?”

She thought for a moment. “That time we were drugged and the whole town left.”

“I wouldn’t call that a thanks.”

“Well, it was still a pretty shitty end to a case.”

His eyebrows shot up at her curse. Her tongue must have been loosened by the alcohol.

“I’d say chasing a bug man through the California vineyards is pretty shitty,” he countered.

“Mulder, it wasn’t a bug man. It was a swarm of bugs.”

“No, I told you, Scully, it dissolved into a swarm after I shot the bug man.”

“Mulder, that doesn’t make any sense. How could one giant bug — or bug ‘man,’ as you put it — just dissipate into thousands of smaller bugs? Just because you shot it?”

“Wh- It left after that, didn’t it? And what about those fish that, uh, that school together to form one big fish?”

“They don’t actually form one big fish, they just look like one big fish in order to scare away predators.”

“Okay, well what if these bugs did the same thing? Or used to do the same thing, but now actually forming one big bug was the next step in the evolutionary chain?”

“That’s not how evolution works. And where does the ‘man’ part come in? You specifically said it was a bug man, Mulder.”

An older woman wearing a pearl necklace shot Scully a horrified look as she walked by, overhearing the conversation. Scully resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at her just to show her what she thought of this upper-class decorum.

“So you’re saying you’d rather believe it was...what? A plague of locusts? In Napa Valley?” Mulder asked.

“I never said it was a plague of locusts, Mulder. But infestations happen all the time. I still don’t even know why we were called out for this case in the first place instead of an exterminator.”

“Well, apparently if you own the best winery in the Valley, you can have the whole of the FBI at your beck and call.” Mulder’s tone was dry as he sipped his wine.

“Here, take mine.” Scully offered out her glass.

“You don’t like it?”

“Smells like vinegar.”

He had to agree, but at this point alcohol was alcohol. He knocked it back and put her glass down nearby, not noticing how she eyed him.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” The man who was leading the tasting spoke gently but still managed to gather everyone’s attention. “If you’ll gather ‘round, our next bottle is quite the specialty.”

Mulder went to follow the crowd, but was stopped by Scully pinching his jacket sleeve to hold him back. He looked down at her curiously, and she tilted her head as she turned away, indicating for him to follow her. He obliged, watching with raised eyebrows as she checked to make sure no one was looking before swiping an open bottle of wine and ducking out the side door. Stomach twisting with giddiness at her behavior, he quickly followed.

The side door led to the large processing area of the winery, which was thankfully empty at this time of day. Their quick steps slowed to a leisurely stroll as they got farther from the door, both feeling fueled by adrenaline as if they’d escaped some monster as opposed to rich people who couldn’t care less that they were gone.

“I hope you didn’t grab the bad wine,” he joked, sticking his hands in his pockets as they moved through the warehouse-like space.

Scully sniffed the open bottle before taking a large swig, making a loud pop sound as she pulled it away from her mouth and offered it to him. “S’alright.”

He tried to ignore how his heart skipped a beat as he watched her drink, clearing his throat before taking the bottle. “Where are we going?”

She shrugged. “I dunno. I just figured you were getting as tired of being around those people as I was.”

He nodded thoughtfully, taking a swig from the bottle. As he handed it off, he noticed her eyeing him with an unfamiliar expression. He thought he knew all of Scully’s looks, but this one was different. It was a cross between intrigue and...desire? No, that couldn’t be right.

But the way she averted her gaze, her cheeks flushed, made him wonder if maybe that was the right guess.

They rounded a turn and found themselves in a surprisingly secluded corner with a machine that could easily function as a bench for the two of them to sit on. Scully sat casually with her legs apart — the way she often did while in pants — and drank from the bottle.

They sat quietly for a while, passing the bottle between them. It was a companionable silence, both mulling over their separate issues with the people at the wine tasting. At one point, mind slightly numbed by the wine, he spoke up.

“We should probably stop drinking if we want to be able to drive back to the motel.”

With a look of defiance, Scully swiped the bottle from him and took a large gulp, holding eye contact the entire time. Mulder shifted in his seat, wanting to look away but feeling trapped in her gaze. She pulled the bottle away with another pop and continued staring him down. The room felt hot — nearly suffocating — and he wondered if she could hear how irregular his breathing was.

She arched a brow. “Only one of us needs to drive.”

He dropped his jaw in mock offense, grateful for the opportunity to play off how turned on he was. “So you’re just gonna keep drinking without me?”

“Mulder, this is thousand-dollar wine. It shouldn’t go to waste.” She smirked. “No matter how bad it is.”

He huffed a laugh and stole the bottle back, watching her raise her eyebrows in question as he took a sip. Eager to remark, he pulled the bottle away too quickly, a drop of wine rolling down the neck. He quickly caught it with his tongue on instinct, used to doing so with his beer bottles. What he wasn’t used to was Scully’s expression, which had rapidly switched from curiosity to something drastically different. He stared back at her, thinking how his desire was mirrored in her expression, as he slowly lowered the bottle to rest beside him.

In the blink of an eye, they both leaned in, lips crashing together with the urgency of two people who wanted each other more than they cared to admit. Her nails dug into his shoulder as his hand gripped her hair. They’d kissed before — minor ones, like the one at New Year’s. But this was messy and hungry, nothing at all like their previous encounters. She was straddling him before he’d even realized she moved, her hands grasping at any part of his torso she could reach. His hands moved in a similar way, both of them desperate to touch each other — to feel each other — as much as they could.

Scully moved from his lips to his jaw, then down his neck with fervor. He let out a sigh that was almost a moan. He swore he felt her grin against his pulse before grinding down on what was now a prominent erection. His moan wasn’t stifled this time as he tugged her back up by the hair and captured her lips with his again. Her hands wandered down to palm him through his pants, eliciting another moan before she started working at his button and zipper. Was she—?

The loud sound of a door slamming shut on the other side of the large warehouse interrupted them, making it so he wouldn’t find out what she was about to do. They both froze, then jolted apart for fear of whoever was here finding them like this. They righted themselves as quietly as they could, then ducked down in hopes of staying undetected by the intruder. Mulder didn’t dare look over at her as they both tried to calm their heavy breathing that was caused by multiple types of adrenaline.

Heels clicked loudly on the concrete floor, never coming near them as their owner briskly walked from one door to another. The second door clanked shut just as loudly.

They stayed stock-still, listening for any hints that there was anyone else in the room. After a few moments, they both let out equal sighs of relief. Mulder looked over at his partner, who was eyeing him with what he could clearly identify as lust. But there was reservation there, too. Maybe due to almost being caught. Maybe due to the fact that they’d almost just fucked for the first time in a winery. After seven years, it was far from how either of them had probably imagined their first time.

“We should-”

“Yeah.”

They stood up straight, fixing their hair and clothes even further. Scully glanced up at him, then mimed wiping the corner of her mouth with her thumb, a sheepish expression on her face. Mulder took the hint and ungracefully wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He eyed the lipstick that came off with a small smile.

They started heading for the nearest exit but Scully stumbled a bit, grabbing his arm for support as she steadied herself. She kept a hold of his arm as they continued walking.

“Jeez, Scully, how much wine did you have?” He teased.

She didn’t respond, instead turning her head away from him so he couldn’t see her expression. Maybe it wasn't the wine.

“I think we should get back to the motel.” Her tone was casual, but her grip on his arm was suggestive of something else.

He swallowed thickly. There was no way he could drive their rental in this state of inebriation and arousal. And Scully was definitely in a similar — if not worse — way.

“Maybe we should call a cab.”

She smirked. “Maybe Mrs. Lancaster would be oh-so-grateful enough to lend us a limo.”

#kai.fic #xf fic #msr fic #time to post this when no one is online ;P

[scullyfemme]

Fluff prompt: Mulder and Scully agree not to buy Christmas gifts for each other, but they both end up at the same shopping mall together...

Thanks for the prompt! This was really fun to write! Also I forgot I have “can’t write short fics” syndrome so this is longer than intended lol

request some winter/holiday fluff!

Set s1 | tagging @today-in-fic

---

No gifts. That was what they agreed on.

Not in so many words. It wasn’t a contractual obligation, after all. They had chatted about holiday plans. She was spending hers with her family, and he wondered if he ought to do the same. He’d decided against it, though, opting to stay home and sift through old X-Files instead. Maybe he’d discover some Christmas monster. Though he was sure Scully wouldn’t appreciate being dragged away from her family for that.

He found himself wondering what Christmas would be like at the Scully household, then realized he didn’t actually know much about her family. They’d only known each other for a couple of months, but she already knew all of his family tragedies. Meanwhile, he didn’t even know if she had siblings, or if her parents were still together. Maybe he shared too much. Maybe she shared too little.

“Any gift requests?” He’d asked, leaning back in his desk chair.

She frowned. “As in...for Christmas?”

He looked around dramatically, as if lost. “Wait, was that not the holiday we were just discussing?”

She chuckled. “I, um-” She stopped, and about a dozen emotions crossed her face. Ones he couldn’t quite recognize. Years from now, when he knew her mannerisms by heart, he would be able to identify them as delight, hesitation, confusion, resolve. But now, having only known her a couple months, they eluded him. “I don’t know if we need to do that.”

“Not big on gifts?” He joked.

“Not really.” It was a lie, but he didn’t know that. “You?”

“Nah.” He leaned back in his chair. “I’m, uh- I’m not that great at picking gifts for people. Hence why I thought I’d ask you what you wanted.” He shrugged. “Plus, I’m kind of a pain to buy gifts for.”

“And yet you wanted to rope me into trying,” she teased.

“Well, I wanted to see what you’d come up with.”

After some more light-hearted ribbing, they’d settled on no gifts and bid each other adieu for the holidays. Mulder joked that his actual gift to her would be not to call her out for a case while she was with family. Unsure whether he was serious or not, she gave him a hesitant thanks.

No gifts. And yet, here he was. Standing in the shopping mall, surrounded by stores and last-minute shoppers bustling about. In a sea of movement, he was a lone, still island. He wasn’t even fully sure how he’d gotten here. One moment, he was sitting in his apartment, flipping through files but thinking of her. Of that favorite pen she’d lost on a case. Of that red velvet scrunchie she’d eyed in a store that one time. Of the jacket she’d torn running through the woods with him (she’d tried to hide the tear, but he saw anyway).

The next moment, he was in his car, driving to the mall on possibly one of the worst days of the year to go shopping. He wasn’t even sure why he was doing this now. He wouldn’t even see her till after Christmas. This could wait. Why was he even doing it in the first place? They’d agreed on no gifts.

His legs moved as if with minds of their own, finally joining the current of people flowing through the mall. He realized he didn’t know anything about this place as he moved downstream. Had he ever even been here before? He passed by stores, gauging each one as he saw it. 

Would she like a candle? He had no idea what scents she liked. 

Makeup? He didn’t know the first thing about makeup. 

Jewelry? That might give off the wrong impression. 

Clothes? He didn’t know her size.

He averted his eyes as he passed the Victoria’s Secret. Definitely not an option.

The tide washed him up in a store that sold knick-knacks. Generic gifts. This wasn’t where he wanted to be. He didn’t know what he wanted to get Scully, but it would ideally be something more personal than bookends, right? He was turning to leave when he spotted it. A fountain pen. Just like the one she’d lost. Had she gotten it from here? Was the original pen a gift? If it was a gift, was it from an ex? Would it be inappropriate for him to replace it?

He examined it. It was attached to the box it came in, probably as an anti-theft measure. He wanted to roll it in his hands, to weigh it. To see if he could find out more about his enigma of a partner just by holding her pen. But it wasn’t even her pen, at least not yet. Should he get it engraved? Would that be inappropriate? Why was he worrying so much about this?

“Excuse me, how much would this journal be?”

The question came from across the store, but it broke him from his reverie. He knew that voice. He turned around, peering over the shelves of random objects to the check-out counter. Sure enough, there she was. Red hair loosely tied back and holding bags boasting logos of other stores. Her back was to him. Had she already been in the store when he came in? How had he not noticed her?

“Scully?” The word blurted out from his mouth accidentally.

She turned, wide-eyed and looking somewhat like a child who’d been caught misbehaving. “Mulder?” She turned and excused herself to the cashier, then made her way over to him. “What are you doing here?”

“I was just-” He looked down and noticed the two journals in her hands, as if she couldn’t choose between them. One was a plain brown, classy. The other had patterns of stars on it, making it look like the night sky. At the same time, she seemed to notice the pen he was still holding. They both belatedly went to hide the gifts, then seemed to realize the mistake of making it obvious that they were for each other.

He chuckled self-consciously. “No gifts, huh?”

She gave a tight-lipped, embarrassed smile. “I, um… I just- I saw this” — she held up the star-decorated journal — “in the store window. And it seemed- I mean, I thought- I don’t know…” She trailed off, looking thoroughly embarrassed. “And then I was worried this one might seem too childish, so I-” She stopped again, holding up the brown one. She blushed and didn’t say anything else.

He couldn’t help smiling. She’d seen a journal that looked like the night sky and couldn’t help thinking of Spooky Mulder, her partner who believed in aliens and who relentlessly asked her nearly-philosophical questions about stars.

“What about you?” She eyed the pen. “I thought you said you were bad at picking gifts.”

“This isn’t a bad gift?” He held up the pen incredulously. “It’s a pen.”

“Yeah, but it’s the-” she smiled shyly and tapped it. “It’s the same pen I lost. That one I really liked.”

I know, he wanted to say, but didn’t. He didn’t want to be too obvious, didn’t want to give away how much he paid attention to her. Instead, he shrugged. “I just thought it looked like a nice pen,” he mumbled.

Her smile made him wonder if she saw through his lie. Then she laughed, catching him off-guard. “Sorry, I just- I just realized.” She nodded towards the pen. “You were gonna get me a pen and I was gonna get you a journal. It’s just- It’s funny, is all.”

Funny wasn’t the word he'd use, but he laughed along anyway. Fate, maybe. A sign. Of what, he didn’t know. That they were good partners? Or something else? Either way, she wouldn’t believe in that kind of thing, so he kept it to himself.

“So...do we have to pick out different presents now, or…?” He asked. “Because I’ll be honest, it took me a while to land on this pen. And it’s a great pen, as you know.”

She laughed. “I think that as long as we both practice our ‘surprise’ faces, it’ll be fine.”

#kai.fic #xf fanfic #msr fic #mulder: im just a boy.......standing in a mall.....wondering wtf to get my partner for christmas #prompts #frangipanidownunder

[scullyfemme]

Timing -- Ch. 1

Au where Mulder is more insistent on confessing to Scully in Triangle (6.03)

Scully's reaction to his resolute "I love you" is far from what he'd expected. Shock and questioning, yes. But "Oh brother?" Did she not believe him? Maybe he should try again.

I have no idea how many chapters this will be, but I’ll be posting them all on here as well as on Ao3 (link below) because i know tumblr can be a little weird to use for reading multi-part stuff

Rating: M | tagging @today-in-fic | Read it on Ao3 | Next Chapter ->

---

"I love you."

"Oh, brother."

Mulder’s heart sank at that. Was that really her reaction? Surely he hadn’t been misreading things between them. Did she just not believe him?

He reached out and managed to snag her hand before she could escape. He looked up at her with pleading eyes, hoping she'd somehow misunderstood, that she wasn't just rejecting him.

"I mean it, Scully.”

Her expression changed, then. From humored dismissal to something akin to fear. Panic. "Mulder," She stammered. "You're- You're not serious. You just went through...well, an ordeal and you're high on painkillers right now." She explained away his confession, rationalizing it. And he couldn't help but be endeared to her for it despite the frustration it brought.

He tightened his grip on her hand and swiped his thumb across the back of it. "Scully-"

"I don't want you saying anything you'll regret," She interrupted, her voice softer now.

He understood where she was coming from. If the shoe were on the other foot, he'd probably say the same thing to her. But he wasn't going to regret this. Well, it depended on her reaction (her real reaction), but he certainly wasn't going to regret this because of his condition.

"Scully, I..." He trailed off, not knowing what to say. He wanted to tell her about his kiss with 1939 Scully. Whether or not it had really happened, it had felt so real. And he wanted a repeat with present-day Scully. But he had a feeling that if he brought that up, she'd use it as more reason to dismiss his confession, seeing as she thought he'd dreamt the whole thing up.

"Mulder," She shook her head, and he realized that she looked trapped. She wanted to escape. Had he pinned her into a corner? He hadn't meant to. "Look, we can talk about this later, okay?" She glanced towards the door, and he knew he wouldn't get anything more from her. Not now.

"Okay," He murmured, letting go of her hand. He was disappointed. He didn't know what he'd expected, but this wasn't it.

Now free, she angled her body towards the door, then turned back, looking like she wanted to say something. She seemed to decide against it, though, and headed towards the door.

"I'll see you later, okay?" She said over her shoulder. She didn't wait for an answer as she slipped through the door and left, moving too fast to be casual.

He supposed he couldn't blame her. It had been sudden, after all. One second everyone was playfully berating him for his foolhardiness, the next he was confessing to her. It wasn't how he expected it to happen, either. But he had to do it in that moment. 1939 Scully had saved the world, but present-day Scully had saved his world. Time and time again.

And maybe the drugs had influenced his decision, but it still felt like the right one to make.

We'll talk about this later, she had said. Knowing Scully, she was hoping later would never come. She was hoping he'd forget about the whole thing, write it off as drug-induced. That when he was fully healed and fully sober, he'd realize it was a mistake.

But he was determined not to let that happen. Maybe the timing wasn't right, but when would the timing ever be right with them? Ever since that night in his hallway, he was thinking less and less that there would ever be a perfect moment for this.

He sighed and started to lean back down to his pillow, but stopped when he registered the pain in his left eye. Slowly, gingerly, he touched his fingers to it, feeling the shiner. He smiled, thinking of the kiss preceding that punch. He knew it had been real, despite what the little Scully-voice in the back of his head claimed. He laid down fully this time, letting that thought comfort him and lull him to sleep.

---

Scully's hospital visits were rare, for once. Mulder assumed she was afraid he'd bring the subject up again. She did agree to drive him home when he was discharged, however. He had a feeling that she was sticking to her “drug-induced” theory.

This was indeed the case. Scully arrived at his room with a tight smile, waiting to walk him down to her car. He was fully dressed and ready to go, and she handed him his coat that she brought with her. It was unseasonably cold today and she knew he would need it.

He took it and stared at it with an odd look on his face. One she couldn't quite interpret. It was gone as quickly as it arrived, though, and he escorted her out of the room with his hand on her back, as usual.

She was uncharacteristically chatty in the elevator, updating him regarding what the Gunmen had further learned about the ship. She gave more information than she needed to and even went so far as to rattle off explanations of nautical terms that her father had taught her. She knew she was being weird, but she was worried that if she stopped talking, he would say it again. Here. In this hospital. In front of people.

Scully stopped talking suddenly when she took notice of his black eye, which was mostly healed by now.

"You know," She said as their steps clicked in sync through the parking garage. "I don't think I asked you how you got that." She leaned forward so he could see her pointing at her own eye.

His hand went to touch it, and he smiled to himself. "Well, do you want the rational answer or the real answer?"

A frown crossed her face and she turned forward again, deciding to drop it. If he wanted to keep believing in that dream/hallucination about being transported to 1939 and punching Nazis by her side, then that was on him. She didn't want to encourage it by asking.

Even though you should know better by now that there's no way it could be real. I mean really Mulder, time travel itself is far from a possibility at this point in scientific advancement, and it certainly isn't lurking somewhere in the ocean waiting for you to happen across it. And besides, even if you did travel back in time, how the hell would I have been there with you when I was here searching for you? Or Skinner? Or the Cancer Man?

She held back her lecture, letting her mind repeat it on loop like a sort of mantra as she drove. She didn't want to lecture him today, not with all this awkwardness hanging in the air. Get to his apartment. Get him home safe. Make sure he doesn't immediately run off and nearly die again.

The car ride was silent. She was lost in her thoughts, and so was he, but they were very different thoughts. She distracted herself with the scientific improbabilities of his tale while he wondered when would be the best time to bring his feelings up again.

He was surprised when she got out of the car with him, having expected her to drop him off and immediately go home.

"You don't have to walk me up, Scully. I know how to get to my apartment,” he joked.

She raised her eyebrows with a smirk. "I don't know, Mulder. Sometimes it feels like if I don't lock you in your apartment myself then you'll immediately run off to do something stupid."

He laughed a bit more than he probably should have, just grateful that she was joking with him. "How did you find me, by the way? Out in the ocean?"

She recounted the tale on the walk up to his unit (leaving out the part where she kissed Skinner square on the lips, since she still couldn't believe she'd done that. And it was weird to think that she'd kissed Skinner before ever kissing Mulder).

"And then we heard a loud splash and ran over to find you floating in the water. I don't know if you jumped or you fell, but either way, I don't understand how you managed to slip past us while we scoured the whole ship. I mean really, Mulder, you didn't hear us calling for you?"

He fiddled with his keys as they arrived at his door and simply shot her a smirk. They both knew his answer. She held back an eye-roll and settled for her really, Mulder? face.

He unlocked the door and let himself in, then paused and turned as if to gauge her. If she was coming in.

She hovered a few feet away from his door, looking awkward. When she made no move to follow him into the apartment, his jaw tightened. He knew that if he let her walk away now, this would be swept under the rug. They'd go back to normal — whatever that meant now that they were off the X-Files. She’d continue thinking it was an accident, and he’d spend who knows how long wondering what if.

“Uh,” She moved awkwardly. “I guess I’ll-”

“Scully,” His voice was soft as he leaned out of his door. She looked up at him. Was that fear in her eyes? Or hope? “About what I said in the hospital...”

“Mulder, you don’t have to-”

“I meant it. I really did, Scully.” He leaned forward, his hand pressed against the door jamb as leverage. She was still so far away. “I keep thinking. About that night, in this hallway. What would have happened if...” He trailed off, not wanting to go in-depth about the bee incident. “I’ve wanted to tell you for so long, Scully, and that was what I was trying to say that night. Everything I said about how you saved me and made me a whole person. That was what I meant.”

Her mouth opened and shut as she floundered for something to say. “Mulder-”

She was interrupted as the door across from Mulder’s apartment opened and one of his seldom-seen neighbors exited. He glanced at the two, then quickly turned and walked down the hallway towards the elevator. They both caught his brief you guys again face.

Both embarrassed, Mulder gestured for Scully to enter his apartment and she quickly obliged. Whatever happened, neither of them wanted it to play out for the entertainment of his neighbors.

Mulder shut the door behind him and leaned against it. He looked at her expectantly.

Scully hesitated. She knew, deep down, that she felt the same way. She had for a long time. But now? Of all times, he had to pick now? They were split up, kicked off the X-Files. The same X-Files that his ex-girlfriend was now working. And what about Diana? Scully felt a flare of anger at the thought of the woman. This was happening right on the heels of her coming into their lives and disrupting the rhythm they’d found. She knew he trusted Diana, but she didn’t know why. Why trust her on blind faith when he hadn’t seen the woman in years? When it was so obvious that she had come back into his life for the wrong reasons? He could say all the things he wanted to Scully now, but who was to say that he wouldn't turn right around and choose Diana over her, if given the chance?

She realized she was angry. More than scared at what his confession meant, she was angry that he’d done it. That he’d done it now when so much in their lives was up in the air.

Scully licked her lips, then pursed them, trying to fight back the tears of frustration that had built up in her eyes. “Mulder, I don’t think now is the time.” Her voice was deadly calm. The kind of calm that meant she was furious.

Mulder picked up on that, and he hesitated. “I...I know that, Scully,” He spoke as if talking to a predatory animal. Cautious. “But I-” He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “I realized I don’t know how much time I have left to do this. I mean, you in Antarctica and me in the Bermuda Triangle.” He gave a short, wry laugh. “Our lives are in danger more often than they’re not. And I know this is crappy timing, Scully, I know that. What with our jobs and the X-Files and D-” He stopped himself from saying Diana’s name, knowing how she might react. 

He looked away and sighed, then looked back, moving a bit closer to her. “And I know I’m putting you in a terrible position here. But you don’t have to- I’m not expecting you to say yes. I’ll drop this if you really want me to.” He moved even closer, and Scully wondered for a second if he would embrace her, or take her hand. But instead, he moved past her, behind her. She blinked at the door before turning to face him, and during that time she realized what he was doing. He was moving out of her path to the door. He was giving her an out. An escape.

When she turned to face him, he continued, his voice low. “One word from you, and I’ll shut up about it forever. But I have to ask you something,” He reached out as if to take her hand, then seemed to think better of it and dropped his hand back to his side. He searched her eyes instead, visibly swallowing as he mustered up the courage. “Is it me you're worried about having regrets? Or yourself?"

She blinked at that, stunned and slightly offended. Her jaw tensed. "Maybe I am worried, Mulder.” Her voice was carefully even. “Maybe I'm worried that you can say all these things to me but that doesn't mean we'd be able to make it work." Her voice rose with anger. "Maybe I don't want another major change. I mean, the X-Files is in danger, our jobs are in danger, and maybe I don't want to put our partnership - our friendship - in danger too!" She let her breathing slow down a bit and stepped up close to him, her voice quieter now and another emotion visible on her face besides anger. "Maybe you mean too much to me to jeopardize what we have now,” she whispered.

He stared down at her, searching her eyes. She broke eye contact to gaze off at nothing, briefly pressing her lips together thoughtfully. "Maybe now isn't the best time." Her voice was barely above a whisper. She looked like she wasn't even speaking to him, like she was speaking to someone off in the distance, or to herself.

"Maybe there'll never be a best time," He countered, his voice a low murmur.

She looked back up at him and watched his lips purse slightly as he swallowed. She was so close to him now, and he wanted nothing more than to reach out to her. But he stayed put. Her eyes flicked up to meet his own, and something unspoken passed between them. She was afraid. Afraid to believe the way she always was. But rather than aliens or the paranormal, she was afraid to believe in them. And he couldn't blame her. But they were past the point of no return now and a decision had to be made. Whether it was a yes or no, or even a later, she had to give him an answer.

Scully stared at him for what felt like hours, considering the possibilities, all the different outcomes. The consequences. It was entirely possible that it wouldn't work out between them. Probable, even. Who was to say that the platonic nature of their relationship was all that was keeping it afloat? And her life was already so entangled with Mulder's that this felt like it would be giving herself over to him completely; getting rid of any last sliver of a chance that some part of her life wouldn't involve him.

She'd never meant to cut herself off from her friends and stop dating. But at a certain point, she just couldn't justify trying anymore. She had no time for it and couldn't even discuss most cases over dinner, much less go in-depth on what her job entailed. And there was always the risk of getting someone else caught up in the dangers that she and Mulder constantly found themselves in. She didn't want another innocent person who was close to her to pay the price. Not like Melissa had.

Plus, a large number of single men her age were looking to settle down and have kids, and that wasn't a conversation she wanted to have over and over with various men.

And to be honest, she couldn't imagine a life with anyone else. When she imagined her future, her mind no longer conjured up images of a white-bread husband and kids in a house outside the city like it used to long ago, before she’d even started med school. Instead, it was her and Mulder. The two of them by each other's sides, shrouded in shadows and investigating the unexplainable and unraveling conspiracies while simultaneously getting tangled further in them. Part of her was growing tired of the constant danger, sure, but the rest of her couldn't imagine doing anything else.

And she certainly couldn't imagine a life without Mulder by her side. Maybe this was the next logical leap for them. And a small part of her brain brought up the fact that maybe the risk would be worth it to know what it would feel like to be with Mulder in every sense of the word.

It was her move. And she had to make it.

She didn’t let herself think anymore, didn’t give herself time to hesitate. She reached up around the back of his neck and pulled him down as she rose up on her toes. They met in the middle.

It was sweet. And chaste. And short. They both pulled away and her hand moved from his neck to cup the side of his face.

Mulder hesitated, as if still not sure of her answer. But then he reached an arm around her waist, pulling her back in. She pulled his head down again at the same time and they crashed together, more forceful. As if that alone could make up for all the time they’d wasted not doing this. Both of her hands wove through his hair as she deepened the kiss. Her tongue slipped inside his mouth and brushed against his. She swore she heard him moan.

Scully had never been a huge fan of making out. Even as she’d graduated from inexperienced teenage boys with too-wet mouths to seasoned men who knew how to use their tongues, in all her previous relationships she’d viewed it as a mere preamble for the good stuff. But this, oh, this. It was better than anything before it. Whether it was because of their relationship or how long they’d waited or whatever cosmic theory Mulder might come up with, she didn’t know. And right now, she didn’t care.

She shed both their coats, but his hands moved on her hesitantly, and she realized it was still her move. With the slightest of grins against his lips, she turned them both and pushed him up against the wall, slipping herself into the space that had opened up between his legs. She let go of her inhibitions and her worries. Every impulse, everything she’d restrained herself from doing to him for years now was let loose. She pressed herself against him and abandoned his lips so hers could trail down his neck, grazing at various spots with fervor. He wasn’t due back at the office for a few days anyway, she thought to herself with a smile.

He gasped for breath and she heard him curse before strong arms suddenly lifted her up so they were eye-level. Despite the surprise, she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, her skirt riding up and bunching around her hips as she did so. It was her turn to be pressed against the wall as Mulder kissed her jawline.

“Jesus, Scully,” He murmured, and she let out a breathless chuckle that was cut off by a gasp as she felt his hot breath in her ear. He moved below it and down her neck, more careful about leaving marks than she had been. Unlike him, she had to be presentable for work tomorrow.

A short moan escaped her as he worked. She was throbbing now, and in a normal moment, she would be embarrassed by quickly she’d gotten wet. But she knew they were on equal footing. She was too high up on his waist to feel it, but she knew he was hard. Thinking quickly, she used the wall as leverage as she let her legs drop ever-so-slightly down his body. She kept herself off of him for a few moments, resisting the urge to press against him. As he finished up on her neck, though, she took his face in her hands and kissed him again - hard - as she finally ground down against his erection.

They both moaned then, and their kisses were broken up as they both had to repeatedly gasp for breath as they moved against each other. She wanted him here, now. She didn’t care if their first time was rough and up against the wall of his apartment. After spending so long moving at a snail’s pace, she wanted to go fast with him for once. They’d waited long enough, and there would be plenty of time for something slow and sweet in the future.

She shivered, the thought of being able to do this again making her more desperate. “Mulder,” She gasped against him as he trailed down her neck again. “Please.”

He grunted and pulled away, meeting her gaze. Their breathing started to even out. Why had he stopped? “Scully, I don’t know if-”

She groaned and let her head fall back to hit the wall. “Mulder, I swear to God, if you’re about to give me some shit about how we should wait, I’m gonna kick your ass.”

He chuckled. “No, uh, I was gonna say that I don’t know if we wanna stay up on this wall. I think the couch would be a better spot.”

“Oh.” Her voice was light with surprise. She shrugged. “That’s fine.” The wall was perfectly fine with her, but if he wanted the couch, then the couch would do. All she needed was him. And why the hell didn’t he own a bed?

He grinned mischievously and pulled her off the wall. She had to tighten her legs’ grip around him in order to keep her balance, which led to her moving further against his erection. She went ahead and pulled off her shirt as he carried her, figuring there would be no use for it.

He dropped her on the couch and his own weight followed as he kneeled over her, pushing her skirt up even more and pulling her underwear down. She eyed the tent in his pants, wondering if he was going to get right to it, but instead, he lowered himself and settled his head between her legs.

His tongue moved against her slowly, at first. Spread wide across her, he licked slowly and deliberately once, twice, three times.

She felt like every muscle in her body was clenched, and she let out an impatient groan that he would tease her for later. “Muld-”

Before she could finish her protest, he moved again, faster now. Alternating between circling her clit and sucking on it.

She gasped. “Oh.” She bit her lip and let out a shaky breath. “Oh.”

He moved lower, his tongue dipping inside her and out, and she whimpered. She shoved her hand suddenly in his hair and pulled him off of her, her chest heaving. She was too close.

He raised his eyebrows questioningly as he licked his lips. What did she want? Had he done something wrong?

It took a couple of heaving breaths before she found her voice. “C’mon, Mulder.” Her voice was low.

He got the message, his hands flying to his crotch. She didn’t watch him undress, instead leaning her head back and throwing her arm over her eyes as she tried to focus on her breathing. Her whole body felt like a tightly coiled spring. She needed release and she needed it soon.

She felt the couch shift and sensed his face hovering over hers. She removed her arm so she could look up at him.

“Everything alright?” He asked.

God, yes, She wanted to say, but she could only bring herself to nod, licking her lips.

“I, um, I don’t have any condoms.”

She shook her head, wishing he would just stop talking. “I don’t care,” She whispered breathlessly as she reached up and pulled him in for a kiss. She tasted herself on his lips and the memory of his mouth on her made her hips twitch upward involuntarily. “Please, Mulder.”

In a more sensible moment, she would have explained how there was essentially no need for a condom. She couldn’t get pregnant, and she knew both of their medical histories well enough to no there was no danger of anything. But this wasn’t a sensible moment. Right now, all she could think about was how she needed him inside her.

He knew all the same information she did, of course. He’d probably mentioned condoms out of politeness or propriety.

Her head fell back against the couch as she felt him press up against her, moving in a way that spread her wetness over him. Just as she thought she'd die if he waited any longer, she felt him enter her. Six years of foreplay was more than enough prep, but it was still a pleasant surprise as he stretched her. He was bigger than she’d expected. Once he was all the way in, he stopped.

“Everything okay? Do you need a second?”

For a guy who had a penchant for being careless, he was being too damn considerate. “Mulder, just shut up and fuck me.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

He was slow and rhythmic at first, making sure she was okay, then quickened his pace, his head ducked into her shoulder. She was close, she was so close and she knew what she needed to send her over the edge, but she waited, wanting to give him more time. Riding the edge felt like the best kind of agony.

It felt like ages before she heard him groan and mutter a “fuck” and she knew he was getting there. Without hesitation, she slipped her hand between them and started working her clit, the combined sensations quickly sending her careening towards the edge.

She panted against him. “Mulder, I’m- mm- Mulder-”

He could only manage a grunt in response as he slammed into her, sending them both over the edge. They came undone together, clinging onto each other and gasping for breath. As they came down from their peak, he pulled out of her and leaned forward, his forehead resting heavily against hers. They stayed like that for a while, catching their breaths.

Her eyes fluttered open and she stared at what she could of his face. As if knowing she was looking at him, his eyes opened too.

They gazed at each other for a while, both coming to terms with what had just happened. Scully’s lips twitched up in a brief smile.

“I love you, too, by the way.”

#kai.fic #x files #txf fic #msr fic #hoo boy this one's a nervous one to post

[scullyfemme]

M&S decorating Christmas tree together!

Thanks for the prompt! This turned into a fucking full-blown fic (and not entirely fluff oops) and if I ever get to a point where I’m not so busy I might even write a part 2 for it lol

Season 5 (pre-Christmas Carol/Emily) | Tagging @today-in-fic​

—

Tree Topper

“Is this you or Melissa?” Mulder held up an ornament consisting of a popsicle-stick frame around a small picture of a young girl. He and Scully both sat cross-legged on the floor of her mother’s house, sifting through boxes of decorations in front of the new tree.

Scully looked up from the lights she was detangling and smiled at the picture. “Me.”

“Really?” He looked closer at the picture. “Your hair’s so curly. I knew you straightened it, but-”

“Well, it’s not so curly anymore.” She frowned at the lights and sighed in frustration. “How are these so tangled?”

“Let me help.”

“Mulder-” She sighed again but relinquished the lights as he reached out for them. “What are you even doing here? You know you don’t have to help my mom decorate. You could have left when she invited you in.”

“I wanna help.” He squinted down at what was now more of a ball than a string of lights — did Scully make this worse somehow? “I mean, I’d already driven you here, and your mom promised me something called ‘special hot chocolate,’ so there’s no way I’m turning that down. Plus, who else can reach those branches up there?” He glanced up at the top of the tree that was well over six feet tall.

Scully smirked as she started testing the bulbs of a string she’d already detangled. “The only thing ‘special’ about it is the rum she adds. None of these bulbs work,” she added, muttering to herself.

“Sounds special enough to me.” He grinned, but then it was his turn to sigh as he put down the lights. “I think these lights are shot, Scully.”

“Ohh, that’s alright.” Maggie Scully appeared with a tray of hot chocolate. “Those lights are probably older than Dana.”

“Wait, really?” Scully looked up in surprise. “Isn’t that a fire hazard or something?”

“Depends on how old you are, Scully.” Mulder quipped, then grinned cheekily at her glare.

“Dana, what are you doing?” Her mother asked as Scully stood up and dusted herself off.

“I’m getting you some new lights.” She gestured for Mulder to get up and he obliged. “I think all of these are too far gone at this point.”

“You don’t have to do that.” Her mother put down the tray. “We’re not even going to be home for Christmas this year.”

“Exactly, so why are you even decorating?” Scully countered. “I mean, we leave in two days, Mom.”

Her mom gave her a stern look. “You know why I’m decorating, Dana.”

Some telepathic message passed between the two women that Mulder couldn’t grasp for the life of him. He worried he was caught in between some big argument he knew nothing about.

After a few moments, Scully sighed. “Fine, but I’m at least going to make sure you have lights that don’t short out and cause a fire while you’re gone.”

“But-” Her mother followed them to the door.

“We’ll be back in a sec, Mom. Okay?” Scully threw on her coat and scarf while Mulder gave her mother a what-can-ya-do? shrug and reached for his own coat. On their way down to the car, Mulder had half a mind to ask about the conversation Scully had just had with her mother, but decided it might not be best to get into it.

“You’re not going to be here for Christmas?” He asked instead.

“No, we’re flying out to Bill’s this year, remember?” She opened the passenger side door. “I told you last week.”

He did not remember. “Oh, yeah, right.” He buckled in and started the car, smiling fondly as he watched her rub her hands together for warmth while the air heated up. He loved when she did that.

—

“Who knew there were so many different types of Christmas lights?” Mulder stared at the wall-to-wall shelves of string lights of varying shapes, sizes, and colors.

“Yeah, but my mom just likes the plain yellow bulbs.” She seemed to be debating between the ones on a white string and the ones on a green string, holding a box of each in her hand.

“I think they’re supposed to be white.”

“Yeah, well they look yellow.”

Mulder picked up a box of lights that were large and spherical, investigating it while she figured out what to get. They were huge and absolutely ridiculous; lights that anyone would find garish, which gave him an idea.

“Hey Scully, look.” He offered the box to her. “These ones change colors.”

She eyed it with a straight face, but he could see the humor in her eyes. “Mulder, I told you. My mother likes the traditional stuff.”

“Well, what about you?”

“Me?”

“Yeah.”

She shrugged, putting back the box with the white cord and grabbing a couple more boxes of the green-cord lights. “Haven’t really thought about it. When I moved into my first apartment, I just bought whatever decorations were cheapest. And they’ve lasted this long, so…”

“C’mon, Scully, humor me.” He held up the box again with a grin. “What do you think of lights like these?”

“Well, I’m assuming you like them.” She smirked.

“Well, yeah. They’re fun.”

“They’re impractical.” She tried to frown, but there was still a smile on her face as she took the box from him. “I mean, these- These would probably weigh down the branches of any tree way too much. You wouldn’t be able to fit any ornaments on it.”

“Well, maybe we don’t need ornaments.”

Her brows quirked up. “We?”

He froze with panic. “Yeah, you know.” He cleared his throat. “If, um… If we got a small tree for the office.”

She watched him for a moment with narrowed eyes. “For the office.”

“For the office,” he repeated, feeling more confident in his lie.

“Mulder, you’ve never decorated the office for any holiday.”

“Well, maybe we could start.” He took the box back from her. “I like these lights.”

“There’s not enough room for a tree.”

“A small tree.”

“A small tree. With those lights.” A brief smile crossed her face and he knew he was in for some ribbing. “Mulder-”

“Anything I can help you with today, folks?” A store employee appeared with an overly friendly smile on her face.

“Oh-” Scully turned in surprise. “No thank you, we’re good.” She held up the three boxes of lights she’d selected for her mom as if to indicate that she had already found what she was looking for.

“Are you sure?” The employee smiled as if she were being held at gunpoint to say the next bit. “Are you aware of our deals in the housewares section?” She looked between Scully and Mulder. “We have perfect items for His and Hers gifts.”

“Oh, we’re not-”

“We’re just here for the lights,” Scully interrupted her partner. They were both used to people assuming they were a couple and he figured she didn’t have the energy to argue over it with an employee who was getting paid minimum wage.

“Alrighty!” the woman’s grin looked pained. “Well, if you need anything, just give me a holler!” She turned and couldn’t walk away fast enough for fear that they would decide that they did need her.

Scully sighed, looking downtrodden all of a sudden. “Let’s just get these lights and go, Mulder.”

She turned and left without waiting for him, leaving him in confusion at her sudden change in mood. He wanted to keep bantering with her about a tree for the office, maybe even rile her up by pretending he would want the exact opposite of every choice she’d picked. It would be a lie, of course; he knew he’d probably love any hypothetical decorations she chose. He wanted to let himself indulge in the fantasy of someday putting up Christmas decorations with her.

But what the store employee had said seemed to dramatically change Scully’s mood. He’d noticed that it was becoming a trend with her recently. Random people had assumed they were a couple ever since they’d started working together, but lately it seemed to bog her down rather than mildly annoy her like it used to. Did the idea of being with him upset her that much? He was hesitant to bring it up for fear of her answer.

He realized she was halfway out of the decorations section while he still stood in place, holding the ridiculous string lights. With a start, he quickly put it back on the shelf and hurried after her.

“Scully?” He caught up quickly. “You okay?”

“I’m fine, Mulder. I just realized we’ve been here too long. My mom’s waiting.”

He knew better than to push the issue. Not this one. They stood in an awkward silence in the checkout line and sat in an awkward silence in the car.

Scully held back a sigh as Mulder pulled up in front of her mother’s house and she watched him hesitate, not even turning off the car. She knew exactly what he was about to say.

“If, um- If you want, I can go. I’ll come back to pick you up or something.”

She groaned, putting her head in her hands. “No, Mulder, don’t leave- Just-” She shook her head. “My mom...already made your hot chocolate,” she said lamely. It was the best she could come up with while avoiding saying too much.

“I think it’s cold by now, Scully.” His joke didn’t land. “And I don’t want to, uh, intrude on your time with your mother.”

“No, Mulder-” She shook her head again, still holding it in her hands. None of this was going right. This wasn’t what today was supposed to be about. She internally kicked herself for getting so bitter earlier. They were having such a nice day, and now she’d dragged down the mood. Comments and assumptions about them being together were upsetting her more and more and she knew she showed it. Mulder likely thought she hated the mere concept of being with him. But she couldn’t tell him the real reason why she got upset by implications that they were together. Not here, not now. Maybe not ever, who knows.

“You’re not intruding,” she continued, looking up at him. “My mom invited you in, remember? She wants you here. And I-” She froze for a moment. “I...don’t mind you being here.” Her face heated up.

He grinned, seeing an opening to tease her. “Well, if you don’t mind me being here-”

“You know what I mean.” She shot him a glare, but there was no real heat behind it.

Did he? Mulder wondered if that was true. Lately, it seemed like it was getting harder to read her. Ever since her recovery, she was sometimes so much more open with him than she used to be and he thought they were getting closer, maybe even moving towards something new. But then other times she was even more guarded and closed off. He didn’t know how to take it.

“Well… I guess you need someone who can reach the higher branches of the tree.” He smirked.

She recognized the olive branch for what it was and gave him a brief, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it meaningful look before rolling her eyes. “We can manage without you.” She opened her door.

“Oh, I don’t know, Scully.” He shook his head and turned off the car, getting out and following her to the house. “Sounds like you need me.”

“I don’t need you.”

“You’re gonna grow a foot taller to reach the top of the tree? That’s a Christmas miracle if I’ve ever heard one.”

“My mom has a stepladder.”

“What if you fall?”

“You know what? You’re right, Mulder. What if I fall off a two-foot-high stepladder?” She stopped in front of her mother’s front door and turned to face him with a smirk, eye-level with him since he hadn’t yet stepped onto the porch. “I guess I do need you.” The last sentence was meant to be sarcastic, but it came out sounding a bit too sincere and she averted her gaze, her head twitching as if she was resisting the urge to duck her chin.

He grinned and stepped up onto the porch so he was looming over her, always using his height to his advantage. “So you admit it.”

“It was a joke.”

“Mhm,” he looked up in thought. “Didn’t seem lik-” He stopped, his eyes fixed on something above them.

“Mulder?” She followed his gaze up to see a sprig of mistletoe hanging above the doorway, right over their heads.

“Was, uh…” He cleared his throat. “Was that there when we left?”

She sighed. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Your mom?”

“Who else?”

“We can just pretend we didn’t see it.”

She hesitated, and maybe he was imagining it, but it looked like she was considering actually obeying the mistletoe.

His heart skipped a beat against his own will. “Unless you want to-”

“No.” She answered too quickly, then ducked her chin awkwardly. “No, I- Let’s just go inside, okay?”

He nodded, trying not to let his disappointment show on his face as he followed her into the house.

“You’re back!” Mrs. Scully grinned widely as she took the bag from her daughter. “How was the store?”

“Uh, fine?” Scully shrugged off her coat.

“And the drive? And the walk up?”

They both knew exactly what she was doing and exchanged carefully-crafted confused looks. “Fine?” Scully said again. What mistletoe? We certainly didn’t see any.

Her mother gave a brief sigh, then quickly replaced it with another smile. “Well, come in, come in. I’ve been keeping the hot chocolate warm on the stove.”

“Ooo,” Mulder’s eyebrows shot up in exaggerated excitement and Scully had to roll her eyes to keep from laughing.

Mrs. Scully had been busy in their absence, putting out the nutcrackers and hanging the stockings and setting up her nativity scene. There was fake garland wrapped around the stair banister and even more laying along the mantle above the fireplace. Various Christmas-themed candles were placed around the house. The only thing left bare was the tree, waiting for the two of them.

They immediately set to work, unpacking the lights and winding them around the tree. Mulder easily reached the highest branches that Scully definitely would have needed a stepladder for. They bickered good-naturedly about where to put specific ornaments while her mother looked on with a smile.

“You know what, just give it to me.” Scully held out her hand for the ornament he was holding. “You have no sense of symmetry.”

“Symmetry?” He had an incredulous grin on his face. “It’s a Christmas tree, Scully, not a geometry project.”

“But we can’t just put all the gold hearts on one half of the tree while the icicles are on the other half!”

“That sounds pretty symmetrical to me.”

She sighed through her nose. “They have to be evenly dispersed, Mulder.”

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

“This isn’t your house.”

“No, but I know how my mother likes things decorated.”

“I think this is just how you like things decorated.”

“Where do you think she gets it from?” Maggie chimed in with a grin, taking a sip of hot chocolate.

Scully gave him a triumphant look and jabbed her hand towards him, still waiting for the ornament.

He raised his hands in surrender, then handed it over with a grin. “Fine, fine. I can see when I’m outnumbered.”

An hour later, Mulder and Scully stood in front of the tree, admiring their work. Scully had relented in her need for symmetry when it came to the branches that only Mulder could reach, which meant that the tallest parts of the tree were drastically unbalanced in their distribution. It was his way of rebelling.

“One last thing!” Mrs. Scully reached into a box and pulled out a tree topper that looked like an angel. She stared at it for a few moments, smiling fondly as she fixed its hair and clothes a bit. Mulder glanced over at Scully, who crossed her arms awkwardly and suddenly looked like she wanted to be anywhere but here.

“My, um…” Her mother hesitated. “My husband used to always put the angel on top. After he, uh…” She stopped again, tears welling up in her eyes. “Ever since he passed, I… I’ve refused to even put a topper on the tree. But, um…” She sniffled and was quiet for a moment, then offered it to Mulder.

He blinked in surprise. “Me? But I’m-” he stammered and looked to Scully for back-up, but she only ducked her chin and refused to meet his gaze and he realized why. Whatever was going on, Scully knew about it and didn’t warn him.

Maggie stepped forward and pressed the topper into his hands. “I never really got to thank you, Fox. I know we don’t...know for sure how it happened, but…” She trailed off with a reassuring smile. “Well, you never stopped fighting for Dana when she was in the hospital.”

Stunned by where this seemed to be going, Mulder glanced over at Scully again, who looked extremely uncomfortable and apparently found the floor very interesting.

Maggie continued. “And...I have a feeling that...that thing you gave her was what caused her remission.”

Mulder stammered, embarrassed and feeling the need to protest. He didn’t deserve whatever this was. “Mrs. Scully, I-”

“It’s okay.” She laid her hands over his where they were wrapped around the angel and gave him another smile. “I, um...I wanted to invite you to spend Christmas with us, but…” She trailed off with a brief grimace. “Since we’re going to my son’s this year and he’s not exactly on the same page as me-”

“Oh, that’s-” Mulder laughed awkwardly, wishing that Scully could jump in and rescue him. “That’s okay. I, um, I wouldn’t have wanted to intrude on a family gathering, anyway.”

“Ohh.” Mrs. Scully gave him a sympathetic look, then wrapped him in a hug. He quickly moved the angel out of her way for fear of damaging what was clearly an important item. “You are family, Fox.” Her voice cracked.

Mulder felt like the wind was knocked out of him. Family? Being part of the Scully family -- or any family more loving than his own -- was nearly impossible to imagine. He realized that tears were starting to form and blinked them back, then looked at Scully over her mother’s head, who finally met his gaze with a strained, guilty smile.

“Your car isn’t really in the shop, is it?” He asked.

Her mother pulled away from the hug with a grin. “Don’t blame Dana, it was my idea.”

“I meant to warn you in the store, but uh…” Scully trailed off.

Mulder nodded, knowing what she meant, then looked down at the angel he was holding. She had curly red hair, and its weight felt heavier all of a sudden. “I, uh…” He trailed off with an awkward chuckle, trying to play off how emotional he felt. He worried he was about to cry in front of the Scully women. They didn’t have traditions or sentiment like this in his family. He could barely even remember the last time he’d celebrated a happy holiday with his parents, much less acknowledge family traditions like this.

“Dana told me you’re not a big fan of things as gifts. You prefer gestures.” Mrs. Scully took one of his hands in both of hers and squeezed it, tears forming in her own eyes. “And you gave me the best gift this year. My little girl back.”

“Mom…” Scully instinctively protested, her face red.

Mulder searched for some way to deflect, feeling like he definitely didn’t deserve all this credit. After all, it was because of him that Scully had ever gotten her cancer in the first place. “I, um, I’m sure she’d be the first to tell you that her cancer could have gone into remission for any number of reasons,” he murmured.

Scully and her mother both smiled at that — at how well he knew his partner — and Maggie glanced over at her daughter. “Yes, she’s told me many times. But she also didn’t protest when I said I wanted to invite you over.”

It was his turn to smile. “So the, uh- The car, the hot chocolate…”

“And the tree,” Maggie said. “I don’t normally get such a tall tree.”

He laughed. “Is that so?”

She smiled and nodded, squeezing his hand again. After a moment, she let go and gestured towards the tree.

He looked down at the angel again, then back up. “Are you sure?”

She nodded. He turned to Scully, who raised her eyebrows and tilted her head towards the tree, indicating for him to go ahead. Feeling a bit awkward, he carefully stepped towards the tree and reached up to place the angel on top. It fit perfectly.

Maggie clasped her hands together and rested her chin on them, a watery smile filling her face. She sniffled again and Scully quickly pulled her mother into a hug, knowing she was about to cry.

“Mom…” Scully gave her mother a comforting pat on the back and gave Mulder an apologetic look over her mother’s shoulder. He replied with a you don’t have to apologize smile.

“I’m sorry,” her mother pulled away and wiped at her eyes. “Sorry, I’m- I’ll be right back.” She excused herself and left the room.

Scully put her hands in her back pockets and ducked her chin awkwardly again — she sure was doing that a lot today. “It’s, um...kind of an emotional time of year for her.”

Mulder nodded, remembering that Scully’s father had passed away in early January, not too long after Christmas.

“I know it might’ve seemed...weird...but it really meant a lot to her that you put the topper on the tree.”

“Oh, no, it um-” Mulder put his hands in his own pockets, subconsciously mirroring her. “It was really sweet of her. And I had fun today.”

She met his gaze with a brief smile, then looked away again.

“I’ve never, um…” He hesitated. “Well, you know my family. My parents were never exactly the sentimental type.”

She nodded, knowing what he meant.

“So, uh… What your mom said — all of today, really — it meant a lot to me, too,” he murmured.

Scully looked back up at him with surprise, then licked her lips and nodded. “Me too.” Her gaze was meaningful.

He wanted to elaborate, to tell her how much it meant to him that she was alive. That they were even able to have this day. How he was so sure he’d die along with her in that hospital, to the point where he truly felt half-dead until he heard the news that she was in remission and it felt like life was breathed back into him. How she’d somehow become his whole world in the years they’d worked together, how he’d become so intrinsically linked to her that he could barely imagine going a week without her, much less a lifetime.

He wanted to tell her how much he loved her.

But he couldn’t bring himself to, despite the fact that this moment seemed as good as any. Better than most, really. But he had no idea how she’d react or if she even felt the same way, and he worried that telling her would end up ruining what had been a mostly good day. Sometimes he felt absolutely sure that she did return his feelings, and others he convinced himself that he was just projecting. And how could he risk ruining their partnership when she meant so much to him?

Mrs. Scully returned within a few moments anyway, and it would have been awkward if she’d walked in on a confession. Especially if it went wrong.

She clasped her hands together with a cheery grin. “How about one last hot chocolate before you two leave? Fox, I’ll give you some without alcohol since you’re driving, of course,” she added.

He smiled and they both followed her to the kitchen. “I would argue that’s the best part, but it’s definitely the chocolate. I don’t know what kind of secret recipe you have, but it’s worth it.”

Scully smiled fondly from behind them, listening to him charm her mother. As if he needed to. She should have known not to worry about how he’d react to the tree topper, but she hadn’t expected it to really mean anything to him. She thought he would just go along with it to please her mother, but it seemed to really affect him.

On the drive here this morning, Scully had worried it would be awkward. She knew Mulder wasn’t much for holidays and that her mother could be a bit overbearing when it came to Christmas. But he was happy the whole day — more than happy, even. And now, leaning against the kitchen counter, he chatted cheerily with her mother. It seemed to suit him so well, hanging out here at her mother’s house, charming her. Scully’s mind wandered to what it would be like if he was here under different circumstances, charming her mother for different reasons. He’d probably always been good at winning over his past girlfriends’ parents.

Not that she was his girlfriend, of course. Or likely to become so anytime soon. The thought brought heat to her face and she felt the need to explain away the brief consideration, to excuse it even inside the privacy of her own mind. Even despite the fact that she’d come so close to telling him how she felt only a few minutes ago, when her mother had left them alone.

She wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to do it. It was too much of a risk to their partnership to tell him how she felt. How she’d relied on his strength while she was in the hospital like it was her own. How she’d wanted to tell him about her feelings when she was diagnosed but couldn’t bear to put that weight on him when she was dying. How ever since her remission, since finding out she had a second chance, all she wanted to do was pull him into her arms and find out how it would feel to press her lips to his. But she just couldn’t risk it.

“Dana?”

She was startled from her thoughts by her mother’s voice. “Hm? Sorry, what?”

“Tara was due last week, right?”

Scully's mind raced to catch up with the conversation. “Uh, yeah. Yes.” She nodded and looked down at the hot chocolate in her hands. When was she given that? “It, uh, it still hasn’t happened, though. She’s probably bursting at the seams at this point.” Scully punctuated the sentence with a sip from her mug, letting the sweetness of the chocolate and the sharp tang of rum ground her in reality.

“It’s so exciting,” Mrs. Scully continued, talking to Mulder. “That’s why Bill invited us to San Diego this year. He thought it would be nice to have us over for Christmas and for meeting the baby at the same time!”

Mulder smiled politely, but his attention was on Scully as he gave her a concerned look. No doubt he assumed that she’d spaced out due to the topic of the conversation. He knew that she still hadn’t told her mother about her infertility. It wasn’t the reason for her distractedness, but she gave him an awkward smile anyway. He took it as a sign to change the topic, which she was grateful for. Otherwise, her mother would start hinting at wanting another grandchild and probably make some implication regarding her and Mulder’s relationship that she didn’t want to hear right now.

“So what is your secret recipe for this hot chocolate, anyway?” He asked.

—-

Warmed by hot chocolate, Mulder and Scully put on their coats as they prepared to leave.

Mrs. Scully stepped forward and wrapped him in a tight hug. “You stay warm this Christmas, okay, Fox?”

He smiled fondly as he returned the hug. “You bet.”

She broke away and held her arms out to her daughter, who stepped into the hug. “Love you, Dana.”

“Love you too, Mom.”

Mrs. Scully stepped away. “Goodbye, you two.”

Mulder nodded as he opened the door, his hand at the small of Scully’s back. “Thanks for, um....everything,” he said to her mother.

She smiled warmly. “You too. Drive safe.”

The door closed behind them and they stood just outside it on the porch while Mulder checked his pockets for his keys.

While waiting for him, Scully turned and watched through the living room window as her mother settled onto the couch with a book, unable to see them from her angle. A pit started to form in her stomach as she had an idea.

“Are you sure you don’t have my keys, Scully?” Mulder patted his various pockets. “I don’t want to have to barge back into your mother’s house to look for them.”

Scully turned back to him and a flash of bravery — and maybe a bit of rum — coursed through her as she rose up on her toes and put a hand around the back of his neck to pull him down for a kiss. He was tense with surprise at first but quickly relaxed into it, his hand cautiously finding a spot to rest on her hip as if afraid she’d pull away at his touch. The warmth from his hand sent a jolt of heat through her body and she instinctively deepened the kiss, bringing her other hand up to cup his face.

She’d wondered for years what kissing Mulder would feel like, and it ended up being better than she’d ever imagined. Her hand fell from his face to clutch at his coat lapel and pull him even deeper into the kiss, her tongue slipping into his mouth. It was all she could do not to push him against her mother’s front door. He moaned — involuntarily? — and his other arm wrapped around her, his hand landing on its spot on the small of her back as he pulled their bodies flush together. The feeling of him so close caused the pit in her stomach to open wider and she had to pull away before she did something crazy. Crazier than this, at least. She stepped back to cease all contact for fear that she’d kiss him again if she stayed in his arms.

Panting, Mulder looked down at her a question in his eyes. She thought she could see hope there as well.

Scully swallowed nervously and gestured up to the mistletoe above them, looking anywhere but at him. “The, um- Just...you know.”

“Right,” he said with a small smile, and she had a feeling he knew it was an excuse. That was far from an obligatory mistletoe kiss. He put his hand on her hip again and she jolted in surprise, wondering if he was going to try to pull her back in.

Instead, though, he tucked a finger in the front pocket of her pants and hooked it through his key ring, pulling his keys out with a triumphant look. “Found ‘em.” His voice came out as a low rumble.

Her face burned and she cleared her throat as she moved past him and down the porch stairs to the car. She didn’t want him to see how red her face was and she tried to ignore the fact that him simply getting his keys out of her pocket — that his finger lightly tracing down the inside of her hip — had gotten her more riled up than extensive foreplay with previous sexual partners ever had.

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat as he got in the car and gave her a friendly smile before starting it with a straight face. He was acting as if everything was normal, as if they hadn’t just made out on her mother’s porch. Had it not affected him at all? Scully sat back in her seat, trying to hide her disappointment. Her embarrassment.

“That, um-” He piped up, pretending to check his blind spot on his left side (no one else was on the road) in order to avoid looking at her. “You kiss all your FBI partners like that?”

He was trying to play it off, maybe for her sake. Maybe for his own. Her jaw tensed as she made a split-second decision between going along with his joke or answering seriously.

“No, I haven’t kissed anyone quite like that, Mulder,” she muttered, deliberately staring straight ahead through the window to avoid seeing his reaction. Her face burned where he glanced at her. This was risky. It was so risky, and it wasn’t even a clear-cut expression of her feelings. Just a mistletoe-excused kiss that either of them could easily wave off. She supposed she should be glad for the easy out, but she suddenly wished there wasn’t one. That he had to respond, to let her know if they shared the same sentiments.

“Oh,” was all he said. Oh.

They drove in near-silence for the rest of the trip, save for the occasional comment on the snow or the traffic. Scully felt ashamed, like she’d ruined the day for him. Like she’d broken something in their relationship that they couldn’t fix. This was exactly what she was afraid of. She’d risked everything they’d built over their years together, and for what? Just because she couldn’t handle not knowing what it would feel like to kiss him? How selfish was that?

The drive was agonizing due to the discomfort, but somehow they made it to her apartment. He put the car in park and she rushed to unbuckle her seatbelt and reach for the car door, eager to escape the awkward tension between them. Maybe they could play this off. Forget it ever happened. She was about to leave for a week; maybe they could both get back to a place of normalcy before seeing each other again.

“Hey, Scully?”

“Hm?” She turned back to him but was met with his hand on her jaw as he pulled her in for another kiss.

Her eyes widened in surprise before drifting closed in ecstasy and she relaxed, blindly reaching for him over the center console and finding his shirt with her hand. After their kiss earlier, she realized just how hungry she was for him and without the chance of being caught by her mother, she had no reason to restrain herself. He grunted as she twisted the fabric into her fist. His hand moved up her jaw and into her hair, pulling it gently as he deepened the kiss, his tongue slipping into her mouth. She couldn’t hold back the brief moan that escaped her as her hand untwisted from his shirt and traced slowly down his torso.

“Mm.” His hand caught hers and he broke the kiss, tilting his head so their foreheads were pressed together as they both caught their breath. Intertwined, their hands laid just below his ribcage.

“Something wrong?” She asked, worried she was overstepping.

“No.” He chuckled and his breath smelled of chocolate. “Not at all. I just... I figured if I let you keep going, we wouldn’t be leaving this car anytime soon.”

She laughed breathlessly, her eyes still closed to help her absorb the moment. After they both calmed down, they leaned away from each other, sitting back in their respective seats. He awkwardly rubbed his jaw and gestured towards the roof of the car.

“I just, uh... Thought I saw some mistletoe.”

She eyed him for a moment. It was a stupid line, but his message was clear: We’re even now. But the slight upturn of his eyebrows added to the message: If you want to be.

She licked her lips and pressed them together in thought, turning to look at the windows of her dark apartment. It would be easy to invite him up, to continue this in the warmth of her bedroom. In fact, it would be even easier to continue it right here, in his car. There was a distinct wet spot in her panties that was getting hard to ignore.

But she was leaving town in a couple days. And even though it was only for a week, she didn’t want to start...this...when she was about to be gone.

“I, um... I should go.” She opened her door and got out, then noticed his look of disappointment when she leaned down to say goodbye. “But, uh… When I get back from San Diego, maybe we could, uh… Maybe you could come over.”

His eyes glinted in the dim streetlight as he grinned at her. “I’d love to.”

His smile brought on her own, and for a moment they simply grinned at each other like dopey-eyed teens after a first date. Emboldened by the moment, she ducked back into the car for another quick kiss then rushed back out and up to her apartment building without looking back. Not until she got to the door, where she turned to see his car still sitting in the street. She couldn’t see him inside, but she had a feeling he had the same look on his face that she did. Pure happiness.

She gave a little wave, then ducked inside her building and made her way to her apartment. It wasn’t until she was inside that she let herself collapse against the door and feel the full weight of what had just happened. She’d kissed Mulder. She’d kissed Mulder. She had to repeat the phrase in her mind to cement it in reality. The thought was something that should induce panic, but for some reason it didn’t. Despite everything they were risking, as soon as she’d kissed him she knew it felt right.

She was simultaneously grateful and upset that she was leaving for a week. On the one hand — the practical hand — some time apart might be good so that they could see if this was a fluke thing brought on by the day and the situation or something they wanted to go for. But on the other hand, she wanted to invite him into her apartment and not come out for many days.

The thought of starting something with Mulder — of finally giving in to what they’d been avoiding for years now — scared her. But maybe it was time. Things had been considerably calm lately. Relatively normal without the threat of her cancer looming over them like it had for a year. Maybe now would be the best time.

Scully straightened up and headed to her room, where she knew she wouldn’t get any sleep tonight. Yes, maybe now was a good time. Maybe they were ready to start something. Maybe it would work out, and not blow up in their faces. Maybe she would manage not to talk herself out of this decision by the time she saw Mulder again. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

She supposed they wouldn’t know for sure until after she got back from San Diego.

#spookydanamulder-multifandom #kai.fic #xf fanfic #msr fic #prompts

[scullyfemme]

holiday fluff: OK the Elf “you missed” kiss scene but it’s Mulder and Scully 🥺

Djsgvdslwgkl I’ve never seen Elf (not a big Will Ferrell fan) so I had to look up the scene I hope this is ok!!

Request some winter/holiday fluff!

Season 7 (Post-Millenium) | Tagging @today-in-fic​

—

You Missed

It was a cold January evening, colder than Scully felt should be allowed. Especially this far up north where there was more snow than the ground could handle. They had just wrapped up a quick case and their flight wasn’t until the next morning, so they were stuck here for one more night.

She found that she didn’t mind, though, as Mulder wrapped an arm around her to protect her from the cold in this tiny Vermont town that would never see them again. They strolled down the main street that oozed Small Town Americana from every red brick and cheerfully painted sign and Christmas decoration. It was just after dinner in a diner that could have easily been any small-town diner they’d ever been in, but it felt different this time. They were different this time. Their kiss on New Year’s had opened up something between them. Something they still hadn’t had a proper conversation about it for fear of ruining it.

They rounded a wrong corner, distracted by the decorations adorning the buildings around them, and found themselves facing a small, temporary ice rink. One they wouldn’t have even known about had it not been for a slight misstep.

Fate he would call it.

Luck she would say.

Regardless of their individual opinions regarding how they got there, neither of them complained about the situation. He paid for both of their skates despite her protests and she fixed his scarf before they stepped onto the rink. They went slow at first, it having been a while for both of them. Within a short amount of time, though, they were skating smoothly, in sync without realizing it, their hands brushing together.

Scully hit a rough patch of ice and instinctively grabbed Mulder’s hand for support, but then didn’t let go. He found himself wondering if she really had stumbled or if it was just an elaborate excuse. But he certainly wasn’t complaining, so he didn’t question it. They continued like that for a while, gloved fingers intertwined and no need for conversation as they completed lap after lap, content just to be together. To have this moment.

He glanced over at her, her cheeks tinged apple-red by the cold, and felt an impulse to kiss them. But he was hesitant, unsure how she would react, so he held off, gathering up the nerve. After a couple more laps, he felt brave enough and leaned down, his lips gently brushing against her cheek for just a moment before he pulled away to gauge her response.

She looked up at him with a smirk and skated around in front of him, both gently slowing to a stop.

“You missed.”

He blinked. “What?”

Her smirk grew into a smile as she moved a bit closer to him. “I said you missed.”

Before he could respond, she pulled him down by his jacket lapels and kissed him. Her lips were cold but warmed up quickly against his. He resisted the urge to pull her closer, to deepen the kiss in such a public place. It was as brief and chaste as their kiss on New Year’s and it felt just as amazing.

She pulled away with another smirk and a mischievous glint in her eyes. He felt bashful under her gaze, in awe of his partner and her ability to keep him on his toes.

“I think I’m all skated out, Mulder,” she said, her eyebrows quirking up ever so slightly as if to ask a question.

He knew what the question was. “Yeah, me too,” he said, responding both to what she said and didn’t say.

They joined hands again and exited the rink, returning the rented skates and rounding that corner again, this time heading the correct way to their motel where two rooms waited for them.

But they would only need one tonight.

#djskglsd this one feels weird to post idk why #kai.fic #xf fic #msr fic #prompts

[scullyfemme]

Timing -- Ch. 2

“Told you they’d be suspicious”

Mulder and Scully try to navigate this new phase of their relationship

(aka me getting out my “let mulder and scully be happy” energy with some fluff scenes)

<- Last Chapter | tagging @today-in-fic | Read it on Ao3 | Next Chapter ->

---

After a few moments, Scully had gotten up to go to the bathroom. Feeling weird laying naked on his couch by himself, Mulder got up and started getting dressed, gathering her shirt and underwear for her while he was at it.

She came out of the bathroom and took her clothes with an awkward smile, slipping her underwear on and shooting him a look that said we need to talk about this before throwing her shirt over her head. It was halfway on when a knock sounded from the door.

Startled, Scully stuffed her head through her shirt with less care than normal, mussing her hair up even more. They exchanged panicked looks

“Who is it?” He called out.

“It’s us!” Langly’s voice was easily recognizable.

“Uh, just a minute!” He grabbed their coats and started to hang them up, but she got his attention with a psst. She reached out, indicating she wanted her coat.

“What are you doing?” He whispered.

“I’m hiding in your room,” She whispered back, padding over quietly to where her heels laid. He couldn’t recall her removing them.

“Why?” He asked. “You’re here all the time, it’s not suspicious.”

“Mulder, you have marks on your neck!” She hissed, her cheeks tinged pink. “Ones that definitely weren’t there when we found you. If I’m here, they might put two and two together.”

“Scully-”

He was interrupted by another knock. “Mulder, you okay in there?” Frohike asked.

“Yeah,” He called out. “I’m just, uh, getting dressed.”

Scully opened his bedroom door again, catching a box as it started to fall. “Just try to make it quick,” She whispered, turning back to him. With a grimace, she reached up to smooth his hair down and wipe some lipstick from his mouth, having to stand on her tiptoes without heels on. Satisfied with her clean-up effort, she slipped into his room.

Once the door was shut behind her, Mulder tried to smooth down his own clothes and hair a bit before heading to the front door. The Gunmen pushed past him as soon as it was open.

“Mulder, you’ll never believe-”

“We just got the craziest-”

“We’ve got something you need to-”

“Boys!” Mulder interrupted them as all three tried to talk at the same time. “Look, don’t make yourselves comfortable, I have to leave soon.”

The three exchanged looks. “Jeez, Mulder,” Frohike said. “You just got out of the hospital. You already have another case?”

“Uh, no, I, uh,” He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, trying not to glance at his bedroom door.

Byers squinted at him. “What’s that on your neck?”

“Hm?” He drew his eyebrows up in his best look of innocence.

“Are those hickeys?” Langly tilted his head.

“Hickeys?” Mulder knitted his eyebrows together, then walked over to where his mirror sat on the wall and inspected his neck with a genuine look of surprise. Scully’s handiwork was nothing to sniff at. “Oh my God.”

“C’mon, Mulder,” Langly waved off Mulder’s reaction as if he didn’t believe him. “You got a girl over or something?”

“Yeah, right,” He gave him a dismissive look. “Like I found a girl to bring home within two hours of getting discharged.”

“Could’ve found someone at the hospital,” Frohike muttered.

“Agent Scully drove you home, didn’t she?” Byers asked.

He stiffened. “Yeah, why?”

“She didn’t notice them?”

Mulder turned back to the mirror to inspect them again in order to try and disguise his sigh of relief. “No, I guess not. Didn’t I have these when you guys found me?”

They exchanged uncertain looks. “I don’t...I don’t remember you having them,” Byers said.

“It was dark when we found you…” Frohike muttered.

“Did you get them from some 1930s babe?” Langly joked.

Seeing the opportunity, Mulder snapped his fingers and gave a slow nod as if he had just remembered. “That’s it. Yeah, this, uh, this girl pulled me into a closet at one point. I guess I forgot… You know, what with all the Nazi stuff happening right after.”

The three exchanged looks that were equal parts confused and impressed, seeming to believe him.

“Look, guys, I, uh,” Mulder gestured towards the door. “I told my mom I’d pay her a visit today, and I gotta go soon. Whatever this is, can it wait till tomorrow?”

All three shrugged. “I guess the queen’ll survive till then,” Langly said.

“The queen?” Mulder asked, then shook his head. He couldn’t let himself start this conversation. He started herding them towards the door. “I’m sure she’ll be fine. I’ll drop by tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay-”

“What time-”

“Bye-”

“Bye guys,” He smiled cheerfully and shut the door, then leaned against it with a sigh. He listened for the sound of them walking away before he stood up straight and headed towards the bedroom.

Scully didn’t look up from where she was delicately perched on a box, perusing a dusty Playboy. “Told you they’d be suspicious.”

He leaned against the doorframe. “I think I played it off well.”

She smirked up at him. “You mean your story about kissing some ‘babe’ from 1939? You’re lucky it was them who showed up and not Skinner. That wouldn’t have worked on anyone else.” She hopped up from the box and lightly tapped him with the Playboy before dropping it and moving past him, through the door.

“But I did kiss a babe from 1939, Scully,” He turned, watching her walk.

“Yeah?” She hung up her coat and dropped her shoes by the door. “Was she some tall, curvy blonde?” She smirked, her eyebrow cocked.

“Actually, she was a petite redhead who packed a punch.” He gestured towards his black eye.

It took her a second to register what he meant. “Wait, are you saying you kissed me in your hallucination? And I punched you?”

“It wasn’t a hallucination, Scully, I’ve got the shiner to prove it.”

She ducked her chin, giving him her signature look of disbelief. “Mulder, you could have gotten that from the fall. Or from something else, since you were on that ship for who knows how long.”

“I know exactly how I got it, Scully. I kissed you and then you punched me.”

“Is that so?” She cocked her brow again and moved closer to him, a playfulness in her eyes that he wished he saw more. “And what kind of kiss was it?”

A smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. “Are you asking for a demonstration?”

She shrugged with a short hum.

He gave a short chuckle, unable to believe they were having this conversation. “Well, uh, I believe I said something like ‘in case we never meet again.’” He moved closer to her.

“Mhm,” She nodded. “And then?”

With a grin, he grabbed her and pulled her in for a kiss the same way he had with 1939 Scully. Unlike that Scully, though, this one was a bit more receptive, relaxing into it and pulling him closer. It was so different and so much better than the one on the boat. After a long time, they pulled apart, both panting a bit.

“Like that?” She asked.

“Well,” He stuffed his hands in his pockets, suddenly feeling a bit shy. “It was a bit different. You were more into it than she was.”

“You’ll notice I haven’t punched you.”

“Yet,” He grinned, and she smiled back. They stayed like that for a few moments, then she licked her lips and ducked her head a bit awkwardly.

“So now I guess we…” She gave a slight grimace. “Need to talk.”

“Well, first I need to pee,” He pointed out. “I didn’t get my chance to do that. But after that, yeah.” He turned and headed towards the bathroom. “You hungry?”

“I’ll order food.”

 ---

They ordered Chinese takeout and sat on opposite ends of his couch as they ate. He’d also grabbed two beers from his fridge. Not wanting to stay in her skirt, she’d borrowed a pair of his sweatpants and sat with her knees curled up to her chest. He had one leg on the coffee table.

It was strange in its normalcy. They’d spent countless nights sitting in these spots, eating takeout that ranged from bad to mediocre and drinking beers. In a lot of ways, it felt the same as those nights. They were still Mulder and Scully, after all. It was easy — surprisingly easy — to simply sit together and eat Chinese food on his couch despite the fact that they’d had sex on it about an hour ago.

That part seemed a bit hard for Scully to reconcile with, judging by the look on her face as she stirred her cashew chicken around in its container, refusing to meet Mulder’s gaze. Her brain was whirring at high speeds now that the immediate afterglow had worn off and she was back at full capacity to start panicking.

Worried that she would retract into herself, or that she would come to the conclusion that it had been a mistake, Mulder nudged her foot with his knee to get her attention. “Hey.”

She looked up at him, and his face told her he knew what she was doing. Her face told him she was embarrassed about being caught.

“You okay?”

A hesitant nod. “Yeah…” She trailed off, staring back down at her food absentmindedly. “Yeah, it’s just- It’s a lot to process.”

Mulder nodded, knowing what she meant. Though the line between professional and friendly had always been blurred between them, the line between either of those and romantic had been drawn definitively. So much so that it was nearly a wall. For that wall to come crumbling down so suddenly, and without preparation, was a lot for either of them to process. Everything was different, and yet nothing was different. They were still them, and this change hadn’t erased the friendship and intimacy they’d built over the years. If anything, it magnified it. And perhaps that was why it was hard to come to terms with. Things felt the same that weren’t, and things felt different that shouldn’t be.

Noticing how he was eyeing her — as if sizing up a suspect who might try to run — Scully nodded emphatically. “I’m fine, Mulder. I’m not- I don’t regret it.”

He nodded back with a shy smile, holding in a sigh of relief. He wasn’t sure he’d survive it if she decided what they’d done was a mistake, if she wanted to write it off and act like it never happened despite how much it obviously meant to both of them.

They both agreed without needing to discuss it that this was something they should keep secret, at least for a while. Not their moms, not the Gunmen, and especially not Skinner.

“Nothing out in public,” She said around a mouthful of chicken, growing more and more relaxed as they talked. “Not on this side of town, at least.”

“Well, define ‘nothing,’ Scully, because we’re out a lot together as is.”

“Well, yeah,” She swallowed. “I’m not saying we can’t be in public together.” She smirked. “I just mean, like...no PDA.” After he snorted, she added, “And no funny business at work. Especially since we’re not in the basement office anymore.”

He raised his eyebrows with a smirk. “Are you saying you’d be into it if we were still in the basement?”

“What I’m saying is that we’re not isolated from other people anymore and we have to watch how we act at work.” She reached over and stole a piece of beef from his lo mein. “Strictly professional,” she said as she chewed.

“And what’s professional about stealing my food?”

“We’re not at work, are we?” She grinned.

He smiled back as he plucked another piece of beef from his container and dropped it in hers, trading it for a piece of her chicken. “I’m guessing that extends to cases, too.”

“Well, you know Bureau policy regarding two agents consorting in the same motel room,” she teased, taking a sip of her beer.

He chuckled, remembering that case from almost a year ago. More specifically, he remembered his half-out-of-it attempt at flirting by commenting about being naked in the same sleeping bag as a naked Scully. He remembered her protests as he asked her to sing, only to give in and gift him with his new favorite cover of “Joy to the World.” Missed notes and all.

“I was trying to fuck you that night, you know,” She muttered into her bottle, not looking at him.

His jaw fell open as he broke out of his reverie. “What? Really?”

“Mulder, I showed up at your room with wine and made a joke about Bureau policy even though we’ve been in each other’s rooms hundreds of times.” She gave him a look of incredulity.

He thought back, trying to remember that night. Was that really what happened? “Wh- I didn’t know.”

“Yeah, obviously,” She laughed. “You started ranting about” -she took a sip of her beer- “predators or something like that.”

“You’re serious.” It was a statement, but he meant it as a question. “You’re not pulling my leg?”

“Yeah, I was-” She cut off, smiling awkwardly. “I mean, I was still pretty fresh out of remission and feeling…” she shrugged with a sigh, staring down into her cashew chicken. “I don’t know. Spontaneous?” The question made it seem like she was hoping he could tell her. “I, uh, I thought the seminar would be a good opportunity to...try something, I guess. You know, being out of town without a real case to work on…” She trailed off again, looking a bit shy, then looked up at him with an enigmatic smirk. “My mistake for forgetting that X-Files seem to crop up wherever you go.”

At that moment, Mulder wished it hadn’t. He’d clung onto that X-File as an excuse to get out of the seminar since he loathed team-building and trust exercises. But if he’d known what the possibilities were…

“So that’s why you seemed suspiciously eager to attend that seminar,” he teased.

“I wouldn’t say eager,” she argued, looking slightly embarrassed. “Just not as...un-eager as you were.”

“Well,” Feeling bold, Mulder leaned over to murmur in her ear. “If I’d known what your intentions were, I might have been a bit more eager.” The last word came out as a low rumble.

He held back a grin of triumph when he saw her close her eyes and suppress a shiver. He’d always wondered what it would be like to tease Scully, to try and get her hot and bothered. It was thrilling not to have to hold back those impulses anymore.

She regarded him with the same look in her eyes she’d had earlier, just before she’d shoved him against the wall. It was a look he had the feeling he would never get enough of. Her gaze traveled down to his lips, then flicked back up, and he knew that if he didn’t move away now, their food would get cold and their beers would get warm.

He sat back and they were both silent for a few moments as they tried to calm back down. After a while, Scully spoke again, changing the subject. “I’d suggest something about how we should split spending nights at each other’s places, but one of us doesn’t have a bed.”

He lifted his head up. “What happened to your bed?”

She scrunched her nose in fake irritation and kicked out at him playfully. He leaned over and plucked a cashew from her container and she swiped another piece of beef while he was close.

They spent the rest of the night in easy camaraderie the way they often did, stealing each others’ food and drinking beer on his couch. Mulder turned on a movie, but later on neither would be able to remember which movie it was. They were too busy talking and laughing. The long built-up tension between them that they had just popped was deflating, and rather than being awkward around each other, it was easier.

Eventually, they accidentally fell asleep on his couch. Mulder laid behind Scully, his arms wrapped tight around her as if afraid that she would fall off if he let go. In the morning, when their backs were sore and their muscles stiff, they would agree that it had been a bad idea. But for now, they were laying together, dozing off in the company of the only other person either one would want to be with right now as the credits rolled.

 ---

For two people who’d been close for over five years, there were a surprising amount of firsts that were still to be had. Not just their first time, but other firsts. First night spent spooned on his couch. First night spent sleeping in her bed together. First meal cooked with the express intention of inviting him over, no needed preamble about a case in doing so.

First time making out on her couch while a movie played in the background. First morning waking up to see her bare back, decorated with freckles and the scars she’d accrued through the years. First evening spent curled up on his couch together, his arm draped over her shoulders and her head resting on his chest, as they contentedly watched reruns of a show. First time he let himself compliment her — really compliment her — and watch as the unfamiliar sentiment sent a rush of pink to her cheeks. First time she let herself trace the lines of his torso the way she’d wanted to ever since the first time she saw him shirtless.

While the sex was nothing to sniff at, the increased opportunities and causes for intimacy felt more monumental. They’d never been shy about personal space — and in fact seemed to cross that line more often than they probably should have — but this new permission, the new allowance to explore each other both physically and emotionally, the ability to learn even more about each other than they already knew, felt almost unreal at times. 

Their first few fucks were just that — quick and rough fucks to release all the pent-up sexual energy that they’d built up together over the years. Neither of them minded this, both of the mindset that they’d get around to something more slow and intimate in due time.

When it happened, it wasn’t planned. Mulder — still not accustomed to not needing an excuse to see her — showed up on Scully’s doorstep one evening to ask her medical opinion on the autopsy reports of strange killings in Wisconsin. It was far from an X-File; even he could tell that they were ritualistic killings with no discrepancies in the autopsy reports. Scully took one look at the file, saw through his ruse, and asked him if he wanted to stay and watch a movie with her.

She opened a bottle of red wine and put on The Exorcist (she’d recently rented it for about the fiftieth time, for some reason unable to justify actually purchasing it despite it being one of her favorite movies). They sat on her couch — at first on opposite ends, then eventually shifting so that she could curl into him. They drank and talked more than paid attention to the movie. Both of them had seen it multiple times, after all. 

Mulder asked about her love for the movie. She revealed that — other than the initial thematic appeal to her Catholic upbringing — she’d always had a certain fascination with horror movies. Not the ones full of senseless gore or nudity, of course, but the ones that had real suspense and were actually scary. Or the ones that were about something real on a thematic level.

“No kidding.” He hummed in slight disbelief. “I can’t believe I never knew that about you.” He’d always thought The Exorcist was some sort of exception for her.

“No, I’ve always loved horror movies,” she insisted, taking a sip of her wine (second glass). “I even, um-” She giggled, and the rareness of the sound always made it seem like music to his ears. “It’s silly, but as a kid I would pride myself on the fact that I could ‘handle’ them better than my sister. It was a lie, of course,” she twisted her head from its position on his chest to look up at him. “I had my own nightmares.”

He chuckled, mildly wondering if that was the source for her compartmentalization abilities. “What was your first horror movie?”

“Mmm,” she hummed around her sip of wine. “The Birds. I don’t know if it’s technically horror, but watching Tippi Hedren get terrorized by those birds was pretty scary for a ten-year-old.”

“You were ten?”

She nodded, then nudged at his glass, indicating for him to catch up with her. “Yeah, my, uh- My dad and Bill were watching it one night and I joined in. Ahab didn’t think of it as scary, but…” She trailed off with a stifled giggle. “Well, I was ten. I didn’t let them know I was scared, of course.” She looked up at him with a pseudo-serious expression. “I didn’t want Bill to make fun of me.”

He smiled down at her after taking a sip of his wine. “You still like the movie?”

“Mhm.” She nestled her head back into his chest.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen it.”

“Well, then I’ll have to show it to you one day.”

He smiled again — unseen by her — and felt a warmth spread through his chest the way it always did when she shared something about herself with him. Scully had such a tendency to be closed off, to adamantly refuse to let other people see her vulnerabilities, that she even held back from sharing seemingly trivial information. But in this past couple of weeks, she’d become more and more loose-lipped, sharing stories from her childhood and talking about things she liked that he couldn’t believe he didn’t know about at this point in their relationship. It was amazing seeing her walls lower just a bit more with each passing day.

“What other horror movies do you like?” He asked, desperate to know more about this side of her.

She hummed in thought. “Well, Hitchcock tends to lean more towards thriller than horror, but I like most of his movies. Uh, I actually liked Nightmare On Elm Street. Not a big fan of Friday the Thirteenth.” She shrugged. “Thought it was boring. Ummm… Oh! Scream, Poltergeist, Halloween, Suspiria-”

“You like Suspiria?” He asked. “Isn’t that mostly gore?”

She shrugged again. “Yeah, but...I don’t know. I like the aesthetic of it.”

He shook his head in disbelief, taking another sip of wine. From what he remembered of that movie, the “aesthetic” was more of an assault on the senses. “You continue to surprise me.”

She giggled again, and he found himself determined to figure out how to always say the right thing that would cause her to do so. “I also liked Alien,” she mumbled into her wine glass. 

He had to pull away in astonishment at that, regarding her with disbelief. “You’re kidding me, right?”

She stifled a laugh. “No, I did,” she insisted, her grin wide and uninhibited due to the alcohol.

“You’re telling me you’ll accept aliens in a movie but not in real life?”

“Mulder, that’s the point.” She tried to give him her serious argument face, but she was still smiling. “It’s not real. It’s not supposed to be. Makes for a good horror scenario, though,” she added.

“Oh, and here I thought you were just in it for Sigourney Weaver.”

“Well, that was definitely a bonus.”

They drank and chatted and occasionally paid attention to the movie until the bottle was empty and the credits began. After turning the TV off, Scully turned to look up at him with an expression that was unfamiliar to him. It wasn’t lust and it wasn’t affection, but some weird, calm mixture of the two. It was just as compelling, though, and he found himself leaning down to her as if magnetized. They’d had this kind of kiss before. Slow, sweet, tender. It usually didn’t lead to anything, reserved for nights when they laid in bed, too tired from the day to commit to anything sexual but still wanting the intimacy that they both craved. 

This one was different, though, as her lips parted, inviting him in. Not in the insistent, eager way that she often did, but as a gentle invitation. He accepted it with just as much gentleness, letting himself take more time than usual to explore her. His hand went first to cup her jaw, then ran through her hair and down her neck, tracing her spine in its descent down her body. He felt her goosebumps where her shirt had risen up on her torso as her kiss deepened and her hand traced him in the other direction, starting at his knee and moving up his leg, bypassing his crotch and instead running under his shirt, tracing up his abs to his chest. She took a moment to let her nails gently scratch him before settling her hand on his shoulder, pulling him even closer to her.

The slow, tender movements stirred something in him in a different way than the passionate, insistent gropes and touches. He wasn’t sure how long they spent like this, simply making out and exploring each other with their hands until they finally, breathlessly pulled apart.

They stared at each other with mirrored expressions, catching their breath, until Scully finally stood up and offered a hand to him. He took it without hesitation, standing and following her to her bedroom where he knew he would take just as much time as he wanted to touch her, to trace her, to explore her and learn more about her body and what she liked than he already knew. And she would do the same with him until eventually, finally, they would come undone together like they always did. But it would be different this time, in a way that would be difficult for either of them to describe.

 ---

Dating in secret was surprisingly easy.

Since most people considered them attached at the hip, no one questioned why they spent time together. At work, nothing seemed different save for a nearly-imperceptible dissipation of a certain kind of tension between them, and no one who worked at the desks around them in the bullpen paid enough attention to notice that. They were actually glad that they weren’t working directly under Skinner for the time being; both were worried that he was too perceptive not to notice the change between them.

Scully’s mom visited her apartment once without notice while Mulder was there, and for a second they thought they had been caught. But she’d just assumed he was there for work and asked about their current case (they had to make something up).

The two had even managed to go on a date without realizing it. Mulder was complaining at work about none of the Gunmen being able to see a newly released movie with him, and Scully had shrugged and said she would see it with him, since she’d done so before. They even made plans to go to dinner beforehand.

They were halfway through their meal when Scully stopped and looked up with wide eyes. “Wait a minute. Are we on a date right now?”

He met her gaze and it took him a minute to really register what she’d said. He snorted and they both broke out in laughter.

“Oh my God,” She said after calming down, her hand instinctively covering her smile. “We’re so bad at this.”

“We’re just...out of practice,” He corrected. “And we have different standards than other people; it’s not like we haven’t done this exact thing without it being a date. And, I mean, I don’t know many other people who have sex before the first date.”

She smiled. “I don’t know many people who say ‘I love you’ before having sex for the first time. Besides,” She took a sip of her wine. “I wouldn’t call this our first date.”

“Oh, yeah?” He asked, intrigued. “What would you say our first date was, then?”

“In hindsight?” She propped her elbows on the table and folded her hands together, thinking. “Hmm. That time I followed you to the Smithsonian to talk to that scientist.”

He blinked. That early? “You mean when you stood up Rick?”

“Rob.”

“Rob, right.” He nodded. “Can’t believe you were smitten with me that early,” He teased.

She sat up straight, an indignant look on her face. “I never said that.”

“‘First date’ implies that you were into me at that point.”

“No, I-” She folded her arms on the table. “I just meant that that was the first thing we did together that wasn’t about work.”

“It was kind of about work.”

“Fine then,” She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. “When do you say our first date was?”

He gave a devilish grin. “That night in the cemetery. During our first case.”

Her eyebrows shot up in disbelief. “You mean when we were standing in the rain and the mud with those empty graves?” She sounded doubtful. “Not what I’d call romantic.”

“It was your laugh,” He said softly, and she realized he was looking at her with an openly infatuated smile that made her face burn. “The way you laughed so freely after opening yourself up to extreme possibilities. I don’t think I’ve really seen you laugh like that since then.”

She thought about that night. Everything had been so new, so ludicrous. As the years had passed, there had been less and less to laugh about regarding their jobs.

She drew in a self-conscious breath, still not used to him complimenting her so openly and sincerely. “I wouldn’t call laughing a date.” She took a sip of her wine.

“I was going off my criteria.”

“Which is?”

“I already told you. ‘First date’ implies that I was smitten with you by that point.”

She blinked, trying to suppress a shy smile. That early? She cleared her throat. “I’m surprised that the part where I showed up at your room in nothing but a robe and underwear wasn’t your pick,” She joked, taking a bite of her salmon.

“Well…” He tilted his head, recalling it. “That was a pretty good moment. There’s a reason I sat on the floor at the foot of the bed.” He smirked as if trying to tease her.

She licked her lips and raised one eyebrow, giving him a knowing look.

His smile faded with realization. “Wait a minute. Were you trying to fuck me then, too?”

She refused to meet his gaze as a wide grin slowly split her face. “I mean…”

“Dana Katherine Scully,” He shook his head with a slight smile. “You are unbelievable. You lied to me.”

She took a sip of her wine, still not looking at him. “No, listen. I was actually scared about the mosquito bites. But all I’m saying is that it would have been easy for me to put my clothes back on before going to your room and just lift my shirt for you to inspect it.”

“And what if they had actually been the same marks that those kids had?”

She took another sip. “Well, then I would have had bigger problems.”

“I can’t believe this.” He shook his head and looked off into the distance thoughtfully. “I had to try my damndest to keep a respectful distance from you that night.”

“Well, that was your decision.”

“Maybe if you hadn’t been wearing the Hanes briefs, I would have made a different decision.”

“I couldn’t be too obvious, Mulder.”

“Well, if you had, maybe you would’ve gotten laid.”

“I did get laid,” She said, draining the last of her wine. “It was just about six years too late, is the thing.”

He snorted as the waiter brought by the check — singular. Throughout their partnership, restaurant employees had constantly assumed they were dining together in a single-check sort of manner. Early on, they had agreed to take turns paying whenever this happened. It was easier and faster than asking the waiter to fix it. 

“Any other missed opportunities I had that you wanna tell me about?” He asked.

She ate her last bite of salmon and chewed thoughtfully. “Well...it wasn’t you, technically, but I was heavily considering it before I found out it was Eddie van Blundht that one time.”

“That’s it, Scully, you’re paying.”

“Well, yeah, it’s my turn.” She grabbed the check, giggling. She was a little wine-tipsy after two glasses. 

The movie was nothing to write home about, but the dark theater provided them an opportunity to be more intimate in a public setting. Their hands were intertwined the whole time and Scully’s head rested on his shoulder throughout most of the movie. At one point, he thought she’d fallen asleep and leaned forward to check, only to see her meet his gaze questioningly.

It was their version of a honeymoon phase. They were both happier than they’d been in a while and could barely keep their hands off of each other when they were in private (they had a lot of catching up to do, after all). Mulder started staying over at her apartment so much that she had to clear out more room in her closet for him (she’d already had a few of his clothes in there for emergency situations). They also spent the occasional night at his apartment, despite the fact that they always woke up sore and regretful after spooning in an immovable position on his couch for six to eight hours. Scully always said she’d never do it again, but then she always did.

“Mulder, how the hell have you slept on this thing for years?” She asked one morning, sitting up and cracking her neck.

“Well, it’s not as bad when someone else isn’t taking up half the space.” He grinned cheekily up at her, still laying down.

She gave him a look. “Oh, you mean so you can go-” she mimicked the way he crossed his arms over his chest like a dead person in a coffin, even closing her eyes to feign sleep.

He laughed, nudging her with his knee.

“I can’t imagine that’s much better for your back,” She said as she dropped her arms. “You need a bed, Mulder. Or else your fish are going to suffer from your lack of presence.”

“Oh, well in that case.” He sat up and wrapped his arms around her from behind, nuzzling her neck with his nose. “I wouldn’t want the mollies to suffer.”

She hummed a laugh that quickly turned to a short moan as his lips traveled her neck with intent. After a few moments, she turned around and pushed him back down on the couch. They gave the mollies a show.

#kai.fic #x files #xf fic #msr fic #timing fic

[scullyfemme]

y’all mind if i *uses incorrect quotes as a prompt*

based off this post by @incorrectxfiles and set in “Chimera” (7.16)

tagging @today-in-fic​ | SoSS-compliant

---

“Scully?”

She held back a groan as she leaned away from the telescope. It wasn’t that she was upset about having to look away from the less-than-pleasant scene on the street below (in fact, she was more than happy to do so). The problem was that Mulder was supposed to be asleep right now. It was his turn. And if he wasn’t going to use it, she was going to kick him out of that ratty bed and take a second turn.

“Mulder.” She gave a simple response, hoping her tone conveyed everything she was thinking. No such luck.

“How do you think she does it?” He asked. “The blonde.”

She drew in a large breath. “I don’t know, Mulder.” her words combined with her sigh. “Maybe it’ll come to you in a dream.”

“Can’t sleep. Too wired.”

Then let me sleep, She wanted to say, but pushed the thought back. Mulder hadn’t gotten much sleep this week. He needed it more than she did right now.

“Will you sing to me again?” His cheeky grin was audible.

She was glad she was still facing away from him, feeling her cheeks get hot. “That was a one-time-only deal because you were injured. Plus,” She turned to glance at him. “I don’t want my bad singing to alert our suspicious blonde.”

He snorted. “Fine. Play truth or dare with me.” He sat up in a reclined position, leaning his elbow on the pillow.

“This isn’t a slumber party, Mulder.” She pretended to study something through the telescope to avoid looking at him. “We’re not twelve-year-old girls.”

“C’mon, Scully. Truth or dare.”

She heaved a sigh, knowing there was no getting out of this. “Truth.” She picked the safer option. God knows what Mulder would dare her to do.

“Do you have a crush on Jeremy from science class?”

She did her best to shoot him a look, but she knew she was fighting back her smile too hard for him not to notice. He knew that if they weren’t on what was possibly their Worst Stakeout Ever, she would have smiled at that. Maybe even a little laugh.

“Kidding, kidding.” His easygoing grin was aggravating, especially since she couldn’t get rid of it the way she wanted to. “Uhhm.” He thought for a moment. “Oh, I’ve got one. Who’s the best sex you’ve ever had?”

She flushed all the way to the tips of her ears, refusing to turn and face him. “I’m not answering that.”

“Oh?” He asked, and she knew his eyebrows were up near his hairline. “Why’s that?”

She pressed her lips together, then rounded on him. “Because depending on my answer, your ego will either be inflated or deflated. And I don’t want to deal with the fallout of either one.”

His jaw dropped in disbelief and mock offense. “So you’d rather I continue to live my life not knowing?”

“Well,” She tilted her head with a smirk. “You can just do what you always do. Believe what you want to believe.” She turned back to the telescope.

He furrowed his brow and puckered his lips in his that was a low blow face. He sighed. “Alright, fine. Your turn.”

“Truth or dare.”

“Truth.”

“How many hours have you slept this week?”

He opened his mouth to answer. Closed it. Frowned. “Dare.”

She eyed him with a mischievous gleam. “Go to sleep.”

“I don’t like this game.” He pouted, then flopped back down on the bed.

#x files #txf #xf fic #msr fic #kai.fic #i love incorrect quotes blogs and trying to think of scenarios where the characters say these things

[scullyfemme]

Timing -- Ch. 5

“I wouldn’t want it to come between us.”

While waiting to hear about Scully’s ova, Mulder takes her to Kansas to investigate some weird weather.

(Covers Rain King, SR819, and part of Tithonus)

Tagging @today-in-fic​ and @suitablyaggrieved | Read it on Ao3

<- Previous Chapter | Start from the Beginning | Next Chapter (TBP) ->

---

Scully took the ova to some doctor named Parenti, whose practice had cropped up in the time since Mulder had been investigating the ova himself. He apparently had glowing reviews from his previous patients in another city.

She had needed some space from Mulder for a couple of days after hearing the news. Room to process. Things were difficult between them at work; Scully barely looked at him or spoke to him. People noticed. No doubt the rumor mill was buzzing about why, though that wasn’t exactly high on his list of priorities.

After a few days, he answered a knock on his door to find her, arms crossed and visibly ticked off.

“You should have told me,” she said, marching past him and into his apartment without invitation.

“I know.” He watched her with a somber expression.

“Even if I was dying, even if it would have killed me faster.” Her voice rose and she thrust her fist towards the ground with each point, tears in her eyes. “I had a right to know!”

He nodded. “I know. If I could redo it, I would.”

“This-” A small sob escaped her and she took a deep breath to prevent more. “I mean, I don’t even know how to feel about it! It’s- It could be my only chance, or it could be nothing!” She swallowed and looked upwards, trying to blink back her tears. “And- And it’s possible none of this will even matter because- Because they’re probably-” She lost the fight with her tears then, breaking down into sobs and stepping forward to hide her face in his chest. She sought his comfort even when he was the one she was mad at.

He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight, resting his chin gently on her head. “I know,” He murmured. “I’m sorry.”

Her voice came out muffled as she spoke against his chest. “I just- I don’t want to let myself hope for anything…in case it gets ripped away from me.”

“Scully…” He let go of her to cup her now-blotchy face in his hands, looking into her watery eyes. “You can’t give up yet. Not while there’s still a chance.”

He wiped at the tear tracks on her face with his thumbs and she searched his face, looking like she wanted to believe him. She let out a long, ragged sigh and he pulled her back into his arms.

“I’m still mad at you, by the way,” she mumbled into his shirt.

He chuckled. “I deserve it.”

“You really think I shouldn’t give up?”

He sighed, then kissed the top of her head. “Never give up on a miracle,” he murmured into her hair.

—-

Despite her insistence that she was still mad, Scully warmed back up to him after that. Within the week, they were close to normal, save for the looming possibility of the test results.

The results from Dr. Parenti’s office were delayed for some reason, which only served to make Scully more anxious. In an attempt to distract her, Mulder took her on an off-the-books trip to Kansas for a case. He put on a face of overzealous delight at the sight of the mayor personally greeting them along with a young baton twirler. In return, Scully gave him a reluctant look.

She tried to keep a more positive outlook. Not just with the case, but in general. Like Mulder said, she couldn’t give up yet.

The fact that the mayor assumed she was Mulder’s wife and not his partner irked her. She hoped it wouldn’t be a recurring issue in this small town.

—-

To Mulder’s credit, the case did successfully distract her. Well, more like everyone in the town distracted her. Nearly every person they met seemed to have larger-than-life personalities, from Daryl’s assistant to Sheila to the so-called “Rain King” himself.

It was a curious case, she’d admit that much. But there wasn’t anything particularly unusual going on in this town. Droughts and sudden rains weren’t unheard of, and the fact that it had started raining when Mootz was doing his “rain dance” was just a coincidence. The idea of a single person controlling the weather was absolutely crazy.

And then a cow fell from the sky and landed in Mulder’s room.

The manager followed Scully as she went to find her partner. “Oh, Miss, we moved your boyfriend’s things into your room.”

Scully sighed. “He’s my partner,” she corrected. “And we’d prefer separate rooms.” Technically a lie, but they’d agreed to keep separate rooms on cases.

Practically everyone in this town had assumed she and Mulder were together, and it was starting to bug her. Were they being obvious? It didn’t feel like it. No, they were acting normal. Everyone in this town was just weird.

“Oh, old-fashioned, are you, huh?” The woman seemed like she couldn’t care less. “Well, we’re booked solid with the high school reunion. You can take it or leave it.”

Scully sighed as she walked away from the hotel manager and went to check on Mulder, using his possible head trauma as an excuse to run her hands through his hair. She supposed a cow crashing through his ceiling would be a decent enough reason for them to have to share a room.

—-

That night, Scully sat in the chair in her motel room, her face deadpan as Mulder rambled on about his new theory. He now thought that Holman Hardt was the one controlling the weather. Which was impossible.

“Most people will admit that the weather plays a significant role in the way they feel, right?” He asked. “There’s even that disorder.”

“SAD — Seasonal Affective Disorder,” she said.

“Well, who’s to say it doesn’t work the other way around?” He asked. “That the way someone feels can affect the weather? That the weather is somehow an expression of Holman Hardt’s feelings, or- or better still, the feelings he’s not expressing?” He raised his eyebrows as if expecting her to be impressed with him, which he should know better by now.

Scully gave him an impassive look. “Mulder, that is not the same thing at all. People can’t control the weather.” She stood up, getting into their debate. “I mean, it-it doesn’t work like that! Weather is based on a large number of variables that are completely out of the control of any one person! We are done with this case and we’re going home in the morning.” She stopped when she realized he was smiling at her. “What?”

He shook his head, but the smile was still on his face. “Nothing.”

Crossing her arms, she tilted her head, giving him an annoyed look. “What?”

“Oh, I just- I just realized that I don’t have my own room to go back to.” There was a certain glint in his eye. She knew what that meant, and she hated that her body immediately reacted at the sight of it, betraying her.

She watched him as he put the case file on the nightstand and stood up. “Mulder.” Her tone was a warning, but she couldn’t ignore the jolt that went through her. She’d be lying if she said she’d never fantasized about the two of them in the same motel room on a case. Many times.

“Yes?” He had the audacity to try and sound innocent as he walked up to her, looming over her.

Fighting against the energy that was thrumming off of him, she kept her arms crossed and looked up at him indignantly. “Mulder, we have rules. Remember? You agreed to them.”

“Oh, I know,” he said, standing much too close to her now. “Separate rooms. But, the, uh- The universe seems to have intervened on that one.”

“Oh, I think you mean Holman Hardt," she teased, quirking a brow.

He smiled. “C’mon, Scully.” His voice was that low murmur that sent an involuntary shiver down her spine. “I think this qualifies as an…extenuating circumstance.” He cupped her elbow, silently asking her to uncross her arms.

After a moment’s consideration, she uncrossed one arm, reaching out to play with his tie. “I don’t know, Mulder,” she huffed. “If people can suddenly control the weather, and if I agree to that this is an extenuating circumstance, then we might have an epidemic of cows crashing through motel roofs.”

He smirked. “Well, if that’s what it ta-”

She cut him off by pulling him down by his tie into a kiss, wrapping her other arm around his neck as he relaxed into it. She was about to pull away when — without warning — he scooped her up and gently tossed her on the bed. She yelped as she landed, and had half a mind to chastise him when he got on top of her and kissed her again.

—-

“I mean, you spend every day with Agent Scully; a beautiful, enchanting woman.” Holman shook his head in disbelief. “And you two never…?”

Mulder shook his head, his face neutral despite the fact that they had just had sex the night before.

“I confess, I…I find that shocking,” Holman said. “I- I’ve seen how you two gaze at one another.”

Mulder’s shoulders tensed at that. They gazed at each other? Was it that obvious? Ignoring it, he slung an arm around Holman’s shoulder and led him towards Sheila’s office. “This is about you, Holman. I’m here to help you. I’m perfectly happy with my…friendship with Agent Scully.”

He sent him in, wishing him luck. “And Holman,” He called after him. “I do not gaze at Scully.”

A while later, Sheila left her office followed by Holman, who explained that she was actually in love with Mulder before leaving to sulk. Mulder then happened upon Sheila in an argument with Daryl.

“Hey!” Mulder called out, interrupting. “Hey, Daryl. Cut it out, man.”

They argued and fought. After Mulder pinned him to the wall and cuffed him, Sheila surprised him by grabbing his face and kissing him passionately, pushing him up against the wall before he could react.

Holman and Scully rounded the corner just then, both equally shocked at the scene before them. Holman quickly left, but Scully just stood there, mouth agape. Mulder spotted her with wide eyes as he repeatedly tried to push Sheila away. When he finally succeeded, Scully had to press her lips together to prevent from laughing at the sight of red lipstick smeared on his face.

“Um,” He scratched the back of his head, looking nervous. As if Scully would actually be mad at him for being ambush-kissed.

She cocked a humored eyebrow. “Mulder…the fog has lifted and if you’re ready, the plane is waiting.”

He was about to agree when he saw the red spots on the weather radar.

—-

“You love him, don’t you?” Sheila turned away from the bathroom mirror to give Scully an accusing look.

Stunned, Scully could barely get out a “What?”

“You’re jealous because Agent Mulder and I have a special connection and you’re trying to divert me to Holman.”

Scully had to fight back her laughter. “What?”

Scully proceeded to tell the woman that she was not in love with Mulder and that there was nothing between them. Never had been. The lie wasn’t so difficult after so many years of it being true.

“Not even a kiss?” Sheila asked in disbelief.

Scully shook her head.

Sheila sighed and turned back to the mirror. “Trust me, the man knows how to kiss.”

Oh, I know, Scully thought to herself, last night on her mind.

“I just never thought of Holman that way, you know?” Sheila continued, looking at Scully’s reflection in the mirror. “He’s my closest friend. And to not even suspect…”

Scully hesitated, thinking how Sheila almost reminded her of herself. How she’d been so afraid of risking her friendship with Mulder if they got involved romantically. She tried to think of what she would have wanted someone to say to her.

“Well,” She started hesitantly, worried about saying something that would give her away. “It seems to me that the best relationships — the ones that last — are frequently the ones that are rooted in friendship.” She thought back to when her partnership with Mulder began. How they became fast friends despite their differences, immediately loyal to each other.

She thought of laughing in the rain with him. Of bailing him out of jail and taking him to a diner. Of him reaching over to wipe barbecue sauce off her face without thinking. How he’d fought desperately for her life countless times, and how she’d done the same for him.

“You know,” she continued. “One day, you look at the person and you see something more than you did the night before.”

She remembered him handing her cross back to her after her abduction. How it had been warm from his hand. She remembered how he had advocated for her when she was trying to adopt Emily, no questions asked. How he’d brought her stolen ova to a specialist before telling her, hoping to give her good news. Everything they’d both done for each other. It had all built up over the years until-

“Like a switch has been flicked somewhere,” she said. “And the person who was just a friend is…” She smiled to herself fondly. “Suddenly the only person you can imagine yourself with.”

—-

Mulder and Scully stood side-by-side, watching as Holman and Sheila — and many other couples in the gym — danced and kissed to “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.”

“I never knew reunions could be so…” He trailed off, not able to think of the word.

“Wet?” She finished, her eyebrows raised.

Holman and Sheila approached them, arm in arm.

“Well, how’d it go?” Mulder asked, already knowing the answer.

Holman smiled at Sheila, then leaned in towards Mulder conspiratorially. “You should try it sometime,” he said, loud enough for Scully to hear. They walked off, leaving the two agents standing in the middle of the gym.

Scully turned to Mulder with a humored smirk. “Well, Mulder, what do you say? Think you’ll try confessing your love to me sometime?”

He smiled and took her hand, pulling her close to him as his other hand took her waist. She smiled back, placing her free hand on his shoulder as they swayed to the music.

—-

Days later and back at home, Mulder and Scully sat in the waiting room of Dr. Parenti’s office. Mulder felt awkward being here. He felt like this should be a personal matter for Scully. A private matter. But she had invited him, and the look in her eyes had told him that she wanted him there for support.

Scully’s hand searched for Mulder’s as she saw Dr. Parenti enter the waiting room, clutching it tight. Parenti smiled and Scully felt her breath leave her chest. A smile meant good news, right?

“Ms. Scully?” He approached them, barely glancing at Mulder. “Got a good report for you. I’ve looked at the ova you’ve given me and consulted with some of my colleagues. We all feel that with the proper approach, we might be successful.” He smiled again. “Got a good chance to get you pregnant.”

“Oh…” Scully let out a shaky breath. She felt overwhelmed. “It’s- That’s too good to be true.” She glanced at Mulder, who looked equally surprised.

Dr. Parenti continued. “I don’t want to lay odds, but it’s not out of the realm of possibility if we start soon.”

They both looked up at him in amazement. “We can start right away?” Scully asked, incredulous.

“Well, you need a father, of course,” Parenti said. “I don’t know if you want an anonymous donor or if you…” he nodded towards Mulder. “Have someone in mind.”

The word “father” hit her in an odd way. She looked over at Mulder, whose face was carefully neutral, as if he was waiting for her response and would gauge his own appropriately. She knew he would do it if she asked. There wasn’t a lot he wouldn’t do for her at this point.

But it would mean he’d be a father. And she’d be a mother. The idea of having a child had suddenly jumped from an abstract concept to a potential reality. If she did this, she’d eventually have a baby — an actual baby that she’d need to take care of. And while it was still something she wanted, it wasn’t something that she thought either of them were ready for. Not yet, at least.

“Do we have to start right away?” She asked, surprising both of the men.

“Well-” Parenti hesitated. “No, we don’t,” he said carefully. “But the longer you wait-”

“I’d like to wait,” Scully said, interrupting what was bound to be an argument about viability and biological clocks. She was a doctor; she already knew all that.

Mulder gave her a confused look. “Scully-”

“It’s okay, Mulder.” She turned to him and placed her free hand on his arm, giving him a look that told him they’d talk more about this later. “Really.” She took a deep breath and turned back to Parenti. “Right now, just…knowing that I have the option is enough.”

“If you’re sure…” Parenti sounded reluctant.

Scully nodded and stood up, squaring her shoulders. “I’m sure.” She registered Mulder standing up next to her as she let go of his hand to shake Dr. Parenti’s “Thank you so much. I’ll be in touch.”

Mulder waited till they were in the car to ask. “Scully, are you sure you want to wait? I wouldn’t mind-”

“I know you wouldn’t mind,” she said. “It’s not that. It’s…” She trailed off, trying to figure out her wording. “Our lives are… A lot is up in the air,” she finally said. “But we…we’re in a good place right now. With this.” She gestured vaguely between the two of them. “And as weird as it might sound, I wouldn’t want it coming between us. I’d rather wait, if we can.” A brief, firm nod punctuated her sentence.

He nodded back, giving her a brief smile as he squeezed her hand. What she didn’t tell him was that as soon as she found out that her ova were viable, she realized she didn’t actually want kids right now. She wasn’t quite at that stage yet. More than anything else, what she’d wanted was the option. To know that it was a possibility.

“And besides,” she continued. “I don’t think either of us are really ready to be parents.”

He chuckled and leaned across the center console. She met him in the middle for a kiss. When they pulled away, he smiled at her fondly “Well, I’m here for you. No matter what. If you change your mind and decide you want to do it, I’m with you.”

She smiled.

On the way home, though, Mulder started thinking. It was strange that Parenti had suddenly found the ova viable after repeated negatives, right? Mulder wasn’t a scientist, but that seemed suspicious to him. He glanced over at Scully, who was staring out the window with a small smile on her face. He thought of everything that had been done to her. The experiments, the cancer, the infertility. What if this was somehow part of that? A continuation of the nightmare? It seemed crazy to suspect a random OB/GYN of being involved in a government conspiracy, but it would be far from the strangest thing they’d encountered.

He decided not to voice his concerns to Scully. Not right now. He didn’t want her to think that he was just trying to back out of what he’d said, or discourage her from doing it. No, he’d investigate it on his own. He’d only let her know if he found something. If there was nothing, then no harm done, right?

He owed it to her.

Mulder’s investigation was delayed by Skinner’s sudden, mysterious illness. He and Scully both threw themselves into the investigation in hopes to save him. She investigated the disease from a scientific perspective while he sought out the man who had poisoned their boss. Skinner’s abrupt and ungrateful treatment of them at the end of it, though, surprised them. They wondered what was up, but decided not to press it.

When Scully was given a case that was no doubt an X-File, Mulder pushed down his jealousy and tried to view it as an opportunity to investigate Dr. Parenti without her noticing.

Still, he was curious. He pulled up the photos of the crime scene and was studying them when she returned from her meeting with Kersh.

“Mulder…” Her tone was a mild warning as she saw what he was looking at.

“Hmm?” Innocent.

“What are you doing?”

“Being nosy.” He turned and looked at her wistfully. “Eating my heart out. They’re sending you on an X-File.”

She shook her head, packing up her briefcase. “It’s not an X-File.”

“That’s not what I’m reading.” He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “I’m thinking murder by telekinesis. I’m thinking…maybe a shamanistic death touch.”

She gave him an unamused look.

“I’m thinking about the Muslim superstition that to photograph someone is to steal their soul.”

“Thank you,” She said, giving him her Mulder, you’re an idiot look. “All very helpful.”

He hesitated, afraid to speak his fear. “So, they’re splitting us up, huh?”

Her expression softened. “No.”

“No?”

“This is a one-time thing,” She reassured him, but it seemed like she was also trying to reassure herself.

“Who told you that?” He asked. “Obviously, if you do a good job, they’re not gonna stick you back here.”

They looked at each other for a few moments, both afraid of whether he was right.

“Right?” He asked, a bit softer this time.

Scully broke eye contact as she saw Agent Ritter enter the bullpen, and she stepped around Mulder’s desk to turn off his monitor.

“Agent Scully, we’re all set.”

Scully smiled tightly. “Peyton Ritter, this is Fox Mulder.”

Ritter nodded at him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Fox.”

Fox? Mulder’s eyebrows rose and he and Scully exchanged looks. The greenhorn was pretty bold to use his first name without any formality. No doubt he’d try to call Scully “Dana.”

Making a point, Mulder stayed in his chair as he shook the younger man’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you…Peyton.”

—-

After Scully and Ritter left, Mulder decided to get cracking on the Parenti investigation. He figured he’d better start with a background check since that was his job now.

One hour of research later and the background check revealed nothing immediately suspicious. James Parenti had no priors, graduated from a regular med school, and had been working as an OB/GYN for years. No medical malpractice, no suspicious activity. Just an abundant amount of current and former patients who gave glowing reviews. Even his IVF program was astounding, boasting a ninety-percent success rate.

Mulder sighed and leaned back in his chair, feeling defeated. Maybe there was nothing here. Maybe he was being paranoid. Not everyone was out to ruin his and Scully’s lives and use them for a dark conspiracy. He stared at the computer screen, letting his eyes go out of focus as the numbers glared back at him.

And then it hit him. Ninety-percent? He sat up straight. He wasn’t a scientist, but that was cause for suspicion, right? He vaguely recalled Scully saying a while back that IVF treatments had something like a forty-percent success rate. So how was Dr. Parenti’s so high? Did he have access to something?

Mulder printed out the page and went to leave, then stopped and returned to his computer. He grabbed Ritter’s contact information from the database and set his computer to intercept anything sent from him to AD Kersh. He silently thanked Byers for the nifty little program that he had given him as a gift a while back. Despite having his own investigation, he was curious about Scully’s case. Plus, at this point in their partnership, she’d probably be suspicious of him if he didn’t call with unwarranted opinions on the case.

With that done, he grabbed the paper and left on a late lunch, knowing exactly where to take this information.

—-

“Mulder, long time no see,” Byers greeted him at the door.

“Shouldn’t you be chained to your desk doing background checks right now?” Langly asked from where he was leaning back in the desk chair, hands behind his head.

“I’m just dropping by, I-I need a favor from you guys,” Mulder smiled — hoping he didn’t look awkward — as he walked in.

“When do you not?” Frohike was seated at the drafting table, tinkering with some gadget Mulder didn’t recognize. He barely even glanced up when Mulder came in.

“What do you need?” Byers asked.

Mulder handed him the folded paper. “I need your help looking into someone. Dr. James Parenti. You guys heard of him?”

They exchanged shrugs. “I assume he’s a doctor?” Byers said, looking at the paper.

“Yeah,” Mulder said. “An, uh, an OB/GYN to be exact. With a suspiciously high success rate for in vitro fertilization.”

“How high?” Langly asked.

“Ninety-percent.” Byers read off the paper with raised eyebrows.

Frohike finally looked up from the gadget with raised eyebrows. “That is high.”

Mulder nodded. “Yeah, it’s usually, like, forty-percent, right?”

“Depends on a lot of factors,” Langly explained. “But yeah, that’s the general number.”

“Why are you looking into him?” Byers asked.

Mulder opened his mouth, then hesitated. “Routine background check,” he lied. “I couldn’t find anything suspicious about him except for this, so I was hoping you guys could look into it more.”

“Think it’s an X-File?” Langly sounded intrigued before Byers pushed him aside for access to the computer. “That he’s using alien technology to up his success rate?”

Mulder’s jaw tensed. The thought had occurred to him, but he hadn’t wanted to voice those thoughts out loud. “Could be,” he answered shortly, then checked his watch. “I gotta get back to the Bureau.”

“Okay. We’ll contact you or Scully if we find anything.”

Mulder, halfway to the door, stopped and turned back. “Uh, just me on this one, boys. Not Scully.”

The Gunmen exchanged looks, suspicions piqued. Great.

“Scully doesn’t know about this?” Byers asked.

“She- She’s on another case,” Mulder explained. The three exchanged looks again, none of them voicing the fact that that sort of thing had never stopped the two of them from consorting before. “Look,” Mulder stepped towards them again, a serious look on his face. “Just- Just keep this between us, okay? Promise you won’t bother Scully with it.”

He knew he was being suspicious. It wouldn’t be hard for the three of them to figure out the connection between an OB/GYN and Mulder’s barren partner whose ova he had found (with their help, to boot). But it was important. He didn’t want to concern Scully with this until he was sure something was wrong.

The Gunmen gave hesitant nods and he breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you,” he said. “Let me know what you find, okay?”

“Mulder,” Frohike called after him, causing him to stop and turn around again. The older man had put down his gadget and gave him a serious look. “If this involves Scully, she deserves to know that something’s going on.”

“I know,” Mulder said grimly, not bothering to deny it. “But first I need to find out if something is going on.” He left without another word.

Frohike was right. Scully deserved to know. But she also deserved proof that this wasn’t just a crazy Mulder theory, especially in a matter this serious. He would tell her as soon as he knew.

#kai.fic #xf fic #msr fic #timing fic

[scullyfemme]

Hey! My name's Kai and I'm still pretty new to the x-files fandom. Thought I'd kick off what will no doubt be too much fic writing for my own good with a little drabble!

Tagging @today-in-fic | set in season 1

---

Scully was startled awake by the phone on her nightstand, blindly reaching for it in her half-asleep state. "Hello?"

"Scully."

"Mulder." She frowned, forcing her eyes open more so that she could look at her clock. Six am. On a Saturday.

"Scully, I just got a call about a case. There's been sightings of a creature that seems to recur every fifty years or so."

He continued talking, not even stopping to see if she was paying attention. She wasn't. She watched as a minute ticked by while he talked.

"What do you think?" He asked. When she didn't respond, he prompted her again. "Scully?"

"Mulder," she sighed and sat up a bit. "It's a Saturday morning."

"Oh." He was silent for a moment as he connected the dots. "Sorry, did I wake you?"

"Yes." She answered honestly. "Listen, Mulder. I can handle the 3am conspiracy theory calls. I will traipse along with you to parts unknown on days that I thought would be dedicated to paperwork. I've even gotten used to you running off without me. But I'm drawing the line at Saturday morning wake-up calls. This is my day to sleep. Ever heard of that, Mulder?" She asked. Come to think of it, she would bet money that he'd never had a proper night's sleep.

His chuckle sounded from the other end of the line. "I sleep, Scully."

"But do you really sleep, Mulder?" She asked.

"Well, it's kinda hard without a bed."

That woke her up. She sat up further. "What do you mean you don't have a bed?"

His shrug was audible. "I didn't use it much at my last place; I always ended up falling asleep on my couch. So when I moved here, I figured why pay the movers for this piece of furniture I'm not gonna use? Besides, the bedroom's too full to fit a bed, anyway."

She shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose. He was a grown man. Without a bed. Who slept on that lumpy leather couch he had. He was in his thirties.

When she didn't respond, he spoke again. "So, are you saying you won't come on the case with me?"

"No, I'll go," she sighed, thinking about her Saturday morning lost. "But only because I'm already awake. From now on, don't call me before nine on a Saturday unless it's an emergency, got it? I have to draw boundaries somewhere. And you're lucky for that, by the way." She added. "I'm pretty sure any other agent in the Bureau would've answered that first midnight call from you and told you never to call their house again."

He chuckled again. He knew she was right. "Alright, Scully. No more Saturday morning booty calls."

"Only in an emergency," She clarified. "And when we get to the airport, we're gonna go over what constitutes an emergency. I have a feeling we've got different definitions. When does our flight leave?"

"Uh, noon."

"Okay." She threw off her covers and stood up, knowing she wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. "I'll meet you there."

"No, I'll pick you up," He said. "It's the least I can do."

#just wanted to write a lil season 1 fic on how she found out he didnt have a bed #x files #xf fic #kai.fic

[scullyfemme]

Timing -- Ch. 3

“You’re not Mulder.”

Dreamland time baby!!! 

Tagging @today-in-fic​ | Read it on Ao3

<- Previous Chapter | Start from the Beginning | Next Chapter ->

---

“Is this supposed to be a date?” Scully cocked a brow at the dusty Nevada road they were driving down. “You know Kersh will have our asses if he finds out about this.”

“Depends on if you want this to be a date,” he ignored the second half of what she’d said. They passed a mile marker. “Two more miles to go.”

“I’m all a-tingle,” She deadpanned.

She asked about his supposed “source,” who he claimed worked at Area 51, and she found herself thinking about his constant search for proof. For truth. Before they had embarked on this new phase of their relationship, it had started to drain her. But everything had a slightly new feeling to it now that they were together. Like when you finally clean off an old pair of earrings or shine an old pair of shoes and realize how much potential they’d had. To be honest, she was a bit excited to be out on the road with Mulder again like this, though she refused to let him know that. They hadn’t worked anything resembling an X-File in a while.

Still, her mind wandered to thoughts about the people who lived near here. Raising families and buying homes while they drove on, endlessly.

Will that ever be us?

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

She realized she’d spoken out loud. “I mean, uh- There are people who live around here. People who live normal lives. Nine-to-five jobs and a cookie-cutter house with a white picket fence and-” she stopped herself from mentioning kids, not wanting to re-open that wound for a casual conversation.

He glanced over at her. “Are you saying you want a nine-to-five job and a cookie-cutter-”

“No, no,” She cut him off, shaking her head. She couldn’t imagine a life in suburbia. “I just mean, like...settling down,” she sighed. “Something resembling a normal life.”

“Well, this is a normal life,” He argued. Seeing her look, he continued. “Normal for us, at least.”

“That’s true,” She said. They didn’t really have lives that lent to normalcy.

“But if you want something normal, then we can try something normal,” He said, reaching over and taking her hand in his, resting them on the center console. “What is it you want? The white picket fence? I can get one for my apartment, but I don’t know where I’ll put it.”

She smiled, her mind slightly more at ease. He’d made a joke, but she knew his sentiment was real. It had always been clear that that sort of life didn’t quite fit him, but he’d be willing to try it. For her.

The sound of tires squealing and the blinding headlights streaming through the car disrupted their moment, and they pulled their hands apart.

“Mulder.”

“I don’t know if we’re going to meet that crackpot after all.”

---

“Come on, Mulder, let’s go,” She tugged on his sleeve, shooting a glare at the man who had confronted them, who had an odd look on his face.

Mulder was uncharacteristically quiet as they drove away, and Scully repeatedly glanced over at him. She didn’t say anything, assuming that he was just stewing about not being able to meet his contact.

When they pulled up to the gas station, she decided to try to pull him out of his funk. “Are you okay, Mulder?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, you haven’t said anything since we left those men on the highway. Is something wrong?”

“I’m fine. Gas cap’s on your side.”

She frowned. He always got the gas. He’d even once made a joke about chivalry while she argued that pumping gas was hardly chivalrous. “Okay...if you don’t wanna talk about it.” She got out and started pumping the gas. 

Still in the car, Mulder turned the radio on, fiddling with the dial. Her phone rang, slightly muffled by the noise and the confines of the car.

“Mulder?” She called through the window. He didn’t hear her. “Mulder.” She repeated.

No response. Was he ignoring her? Maybe he just couldn’t hear her. She closed her eyes with a sigh of frustration, then left the pump to open the door and get her phone. The music blasted out of the car at deafening levels, but she got in anyway.

“Hello?” She asked, but couldn’t hear over the radio. Her lips pursed, she reached over and turned it down. “Hello?” No response. Whoever was on the other end had hung up. “Ugh.” She hung up and got back out of the car.

“Oh, Dana?” Mulder leaned over. “Want to pick me up a pack of Morleys please?”

Dana? “Since when do you smoke?” She eyed him with doubt. Was this some sort of joke?

He heaved a sigh. “Well, you’re not gonna be a Nazi about it, are you?”

The question genuinely stunned her and she didn’t know how to respond. Slamming the door shut, she went inside, lost in her thoughts. 

Mulder didn’t smoke. He’d never smoked. In fact, they’d had multiple conversations where they’d talked about how neither one could even stand the smell of cigarettes after all their dealings with the Cancer Man. So why did he request a pack? He hadn’t seemed any more stressed than usual or anything, so she didn’t understand what could be driving him to smoke.

She recalled their conversation in the car. Was that it? Had her questions about normalcy set him off? He’d seemed receptive enough to it at the time. Maybe it was actually bothering him and he was lashing out in some weird way, trying to push her away before she could ask about it again.

She pursed her lips, feeling a flash of anger. She put back the bag of sunflower seeds she’d grabbed on instinct and stalked out without getting the cigarettes. If he wanted to be a child and not talk about what was wrong, so be it. But she wasn’t going to encourage him. When she got back in the car, Mulder looked over at her expectantly.

“They were out,” She said shortly as she buckled in.

“Of Morleys?”

She shrugged, keeping her eyes forward. She was very clearly mad at him and he knew her well enough to pick up on that, but for some reason, he didn’t seem to. Or if he did, he didn’t say anything.

They drove for a while before she turned to him. “Mulder, if I said something that upset you-”

“God, this again?” He looked at her as if disgusted. “I told you I’m fine, Dana. Jeez, you’re just like my wife.”

“Excuse me?”

A panicked look crossed his face. “A wife,” He corrected. “You’re like a wife.”

She opened her mouth as if to say something, but she had no words. So that  was  what this was about. One discussion about settling down and he was pushing her away. She hadn’t even said anything about getting married. So much for no regrets.

Scully had half a mind to yell at him, to argue with him. But she couldn’t bring herself to. She didn’t want him to know just how hurt she was, so she sat back in her seat and sulked, staring silently out of her window for the rest of the drive.

---

“‘I’d give you his name if I had it?’” Scully repeated Mulder’s words back to him in an incredulous tone. Their meeting hadn’t gone at all like she’d expected it to. “Whatever happened to protecting our contacts? Protecting our work?”

He shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal. “He asked. Hang on a second.”

She watched in disbelief as he went over to chat up Kersh’s assistant. Right in front of her. Scully stood up to her full height in indignation, her lips pressed in a thin line. She’d hoped that whatever streak of pettiness Mulder had displayed last night would be gone by now so that they could have a proper discussion about it, but apparently that wasn’t the case.

He noticed her anger this time as he got back to her. “What?”

“What is going on with you?” She couldn’t help but ask, despite not wanting to discuss this at work.

Mulder scoffed. “Will you please stop trying to pick a fight with me?”

“Mulder, you are acting bizarre!” She hissed.

He turned and looked back at Kersh’s assistant through the office windows, then looked back at her with a gloating smile. “Jealous?” He asked, then slapped her ass before walking off.

Scully’s jaw dropped in shock. Her face burned a bright red with the amount of embarrassment and anger she felt. Her hands curled into fists; she was absolutely fuming now, and she’d had it with him. Once they were off work, she was going to confront him. She might even need her gun.

She angrily chewed her lip as she sat at her desk, occasionally looking up to glare at Mulder as he played some golfing game on his computer. It was strange that he was playing a game at work, much less a golf game, but she couldn’t bring herself to care about that right now.

Her phone rang. “Scully,” She answered.

“Oh thank goodness. Scully, it’s me.”

She frowned. The phrase was a familiar one; she’d heard it from Mulder countless times. But Mulder was right there. And this voice didn’t sound familiar.

“I’m sorry, who is this?”

“It’s me, Mulder.”

“Mulder?” From his desk, Mulder waved dismissively, clearly thinking she was talking to him.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t call sooner," the voice continued. "Look, something really weird happened last night when that UFO passed over us.”

“UFO?” Her frown deepened. That was certainly a very Mulder thing to say, but there hadn’t been a UFO last night. And again, Mulder was right there.

“You don’t remember?” He asked. “You don’t remember. Okay, the man that you’re with, that’s not me. His name is Morris Fletcher. He’s an Area 51 employee.”

“Morris Fletcher,” She repeated as she wrote the name down. A thought crossed her mind. Was this Mulder’s contact? But why would he call her? And why would he claim to be Mulder? She considered getting Mulder’s attention so he could listen in on the call and let her know, but she decided against it. If he could be petty, so could she.

“That’s right.” The man said. “Everyone else seems to think that I’m him, but I’m not. I’m me. I’m Mulder.”

“Look,” She sighed. “I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but-”

“It’s not a game, Scully, I can prove it. I-” He stopped and was silent for a moment. “Well, I don’t know if this is a secure line. I don’t want to say anything too risky. Are you telling me that Mor- that Mulder hasn’t been acting weird?”

She opened her mouth to defend him on instinct but realized she didn’t have any defense. He had been acting weird. “Well, he-” She stammered, then turned in her chair to prevent Mulder from hearing her. “He, uh, he asked for cigarettes. And...flirted with some woman,” She added under her breath, unable to believe she was confiding in this random man.

“Flirted?” The man sounded disgusted. “See, Scully? I would never do that, you know that. First of all, I wouldn’t want to, especially not now. And second of all, I know you’d probably murder me for that.”

She hesitated. He was right, and it seemed like he was alluding to her and Mulder’s relationship with his comments. But it was just too crazy to believe. “I don’t know…”

The man sighed. “Scully, I love you, but things would be a lot easier if you just believed me sometimes. Look, just get out here as soon as you can, and I’ll prove it to you. I promise.”

I love you? “W- How will I get in touch with you?”

“You won’t. I’ll get in touch with you.” He hung up.

Scully hung up too, staring at the name she’d written down. Morris Fletcher. She’d look him up and have that call traced.

Mulder turned back to her. “Who was that?”

She shot him a glare. “None of your business.”

“Jeez, lady.” Mulder reclined back in his chair. “What’s got your panties in a twist?”

Scully shot up from her seat, fully intending to lash out at him, but stopped when a few of their desk neighbors looked up at her in surprise. She remembered where she was. Smoothing down her skirt, she turned on her heel and stalked out of the room, needing to cool off.

---

At the sight of Kersh’s assistant leaving Mulder’s apartment (giving Scully a catty look, to boot), she’d decided it was time to commit murder. She could excuse some of his behavior as weird immature lashing out because he was uncomfortable, but this was taking it way too far. She rapped at his door.

“Just can’t get enough, can you?” His voice sounded from inside.

She fumed at his audacity. “It’s me.”

The door opened and Mulder stood just inside, a cigarette dangling from his mouth and his shirt half off. He looked completely unfazed by her anger. “Oh, hey, Dana.”

Dana again. Since when was he calling her Dana? That was low-priority compared to everything else, though. She burst into his apartment and whirled around to face him as he shut the door.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Her voice was forceful, and she was grateful it wasn’t wavering.

He looked confused by her tone. “Oh, you know, just a little lunch break. What’s up?”

“A lunch break?” She whispered, so mad she couldn’t even speak. “A lunch break?” She repeated, louder. “You have the gall to tout some woman around right in front of me and then play it off as a lunch break?” 

He raised his arms in surrender. “Jeez, Dana, I didn’t know I owed you anything.”

“Owe me anything,” She mouthed the words in anger, then took a deep breath, trying to calm down so she didn’t actually murder him. “Mulder, if you- If you wanna break up, this is far from-”

“Break up?” His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Oho! That’s what this is about?”

“Excuse me?” She asked. What else would this be about?

He ignored her, though, his hand going to his chin in amazement. “I can’t believe it. I’ve been wasting my time with that bitch when you and I were an item this whole time?”

Scully stepped backwards, looking and feeling like she’d just been slapped. She’d never heard Mulder call anyone a bitch before. And why was he acting so surprised that they were together? Was this some sort of ploy? Some sick game? A way to act like they’d never been together?

It’s not Mulder, a small voice in the back of her mind said. She instinctively brushed it off, but then thought back to that phone call. That man — Morris Fletcher — had almost made a convincing argument. And it wasn’t like she hadn’t encountered Mulder imposters before. She recalled the shape-shifting man who’d showed up at her motel room to try and kill her years ago. And Eddie van Blundht.

“Well, Dana,” Mulder started speaking again. “I’m real sorry.” (he didn’t sound sorry at all) “I think I just, uh, haven’t been myself. Whaddaya say we start over?” He moved closer and put his hands on her shoulders.

“Don’t touch me,” She stepped back from his grip, her anger flaring up again. She wasn’t going to turn to some crazy theory to excuse Mulder’s actions. And a half-assed apology like that certainly wasn’t going to fix anything. “We’re done.” She spat, then turned and stormed out of his apartment.

“Done?” He called after her. “Where are you going?”

She didn’t answer.

---

Scully blinked in surprise as Morris Fletcher’s wife slapped him and called him a son of a bitch. Not a good day for relationships, huh?

Still a bit stunned, she tried to get her bearings. “I’m sorry, um, Morris Fletcher?”

Fletcher — who looked strangely excited to see her — closed the door and guided her away from it. “Scully, it’s me,” He spoke quietly. “It’s Mulder.”

“Uh,” She shrugged off his hand and stepped back. Why was this man so close to her? “You’re the man from the other night? From Area 51?”

He opened his mouth to answer but was distracted by his wife shouting “Liar!” from the house.

“You phoned me,” Scully continued. “What is this all about?”

Fletcher looked frustrated. “I'm Mulder. I'm really Mulder. I switched bodies, places, identities with this man, Morris Fletcher. The man that you think is Mulder, but he's not.” He added, then seemed to notice his reflection in the window of the car. “Of course you don't believe me. Why was I expecting anything different?” He said, mostly to himself. 

She just looked up at him, wondering if this man was crazy. If she was honest, part of her wished he was right, if not to have some reasoning for Mulder’s recent behavior.

After a beat, he turned to her. “Your full name is Dana Katherine Scully. Your badge number is…” He thought for a moment. “Hell! I don't know your badge number. Your mother's name is Margaret, your brother's name is Bill. He's in the Navy and he hates me.”

He does hate Mulder, She thought to herself. But anyone could know that. Her brother would probably buy a billboard if he could.

He continued. “Lately, for lunch, you've been having this six-ounce cup of yogurt — plain yogurt — into which you stir bee pollen because you're on a bee pollen kick, even though I tell you you're a scientist and you should know better.”

She blinked at that. How did he know that? She didn’t even register his wife shouting something else.

“Look…” She floundered for something to say, some reasoning. It was just too crazy to believe. “Any of that information could have been gathered by anyone.” They often ate lunch in the bullpen, now. Tons of people saw her do that.

“Even the bee pollen thing?” He asked, incredulous. “That is so you, that is so Scully. Well, it’s good to know you haven’t changed.” He was nearly ranting now. “That’s somewhat comforting.”

Scully opened her mouth to retaliate. Whatever was going on, it was uncomfortable hearing some strange man act like he knew her.

He took her by the shoulder and guided her even further from the house before she could speak, though. “Look, what about this?” His voice was nearly a whisper, as if he was afraid someone would hear. “We’re together. Only you and I know about that.”

She stiffened. Shrugged off his hand again. “Mr. Fletcher, I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but lots of people tend to assume that my partner and I are romantically involved. I can assure you that’s not-”

“Oh, c’mon, cut the crap, Scully!” His voice rose in frustration. He gestured as if searching for something to say. “I can- I can get more specific!”

“I don’t-”

“I told you I loved you in the hospital after you saved me from that ghost ship,” He charged ahead without letting her stop him.

That got her attention. At least enough for her to listen.

“You didn’t wanna believe me,” He continued, slightly calmer now. “You thought it was the drugs. You drove me home after I was discharged and we had an argument about it, and then we-” He stopped and glanced behind himself, as if worried someone would hear. When he spoke again, it was nearly a whisper. “We slept together. For the first time.”

Her heart pounded with panic. How could he know all of this? “Mr. Fletcher-”

“Afterwards, we ate Chinese food and talked about how we shouldn’t tell anyone. You spent the night and woke up so sore from my couch that you said you’d never do that again, but you have.”

She was about to argue, but paused. He was missing something. “Something happened between those things.”

He smiled. “The Gunmen dropped by. You hid in my room like a teenage girl whose boyfriend’s mom just came home.”

She knew her face was flushed now. It was all too accurate. She shook her head. “Mulder and I have both been bugged before. Spied on. How do I know that’s not how you learned all of this?” It made her deeply uncomfortable to think of someone spying on her and Mulder during such intimate moments, but it was more likely than body swapping.

Fletcher sighed in exasperation. “You really do make me work for everything, don’t you, Scully?” He ran a hand through his hair — the same way Mulder did, she realized — then looked back down at her. “Okay. Ask me anything.”

She licked her lips in thought, trying to think of a good question. “What was our first date?”

He smirked. “Depends who you’re asking.”

“I’m asking you.”

“The cemetery,” He said with a small smile. “You laughed.”

Her throat tightened. Part of her wanted to believe him, wanted to believe that all of the craziness between her and Mulder today was because it wasn’t Mulder. But the investigative part of her brain pointed out that they’d had that conversation in a public place. Someone could have overheard. She searched for a memory, something she could ask him about where she knew they were totally and completely alone.

Try any of that Tailhook crap on me, Scully, I’ll kick your ass, Mulder’s voice sounded in her head.

She looked up at Fletcher. “What did I sing to you?” No further explanation.

He frowned for a second, as if confused by the question. Then recognition crossed his face and he smiled. “Joy to the World.”

Her lips parted in shock and she leaned forward, searching his face as if half-expecting it to open like some sort of skin suit, revealing someone else. “Mulder?” She whispered, her voice thick with disbelief.

“Yeah,” He smiled, breathless with relief and nodding emphatically. “It’s me, Scully.”

Her gaze wandered, her mouth agape. “I don’t- How?”

“Something flew over us the other night,” He explained. “A UFO or something. No one else seems to remember it but me. And Morris, I’m assuming. I don’t know how it did it, but all of a sudden I was watching you get in the car with Morris, only you thought he was me.”

She didn’t seem to be fully paying attention to him, though, still reeling at this discovery. After a moment, she looked away in thought. “I was so mad at him,” She murmured quietly, as if to herself.

“Morris?” He asked. “What did he do?”

“He-” She ducked her chin in embarrassment. “I caught him...fooling around with Kersh’s assistant,” She muttered, almost too quiet to hear.

“He what?”  His eyebrows shot up in surprise, which quickly turned to anger.

“I don’t- I don’t know if they actually slept together-”

“Oh my God,” He buried his face in his hands.

“But I saw her leaving his — your — apartment,” She said, looking thoroughly embarrassed by the whole thing. “She wasn’t fully dressed.”

Fletcher —  Mulder, she reminded herself — lifted his head up to look at her. “Scully, I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t do that, you know that.” He looked genuinely contrite, knowing how she must have felt witnessing that.

She nodded thoughtfully, feeling relieved despite the fact that she still wasn’t fully sure she believed him. That was more like Mulder. After a moment, she spoke. “So...what do we do now? I mean, how do we fix…” She gestured to all of him. “This?”

“Unfortunately, I’m still looking into that,” He said. “I’m gonna go back to ‘work’ and try to get ahold of something — a piece of evidence.” He leaned a bit closer. “Can you meet me tonight? I’ll need you to take it to the Gunmen and have it analyzed.”

She hesitated, not exactly excited for yet another four-hour flight back to Washington (and probably another flight back here). She thought for a moment. “Is that going to help us change you back?”

“I don’t know,” He admitted. “But it’s at least a starting point. Can you meet me, Scully?”

“Hold on, Mulder,” She lifted a hand as if to stop him. It would take both parties to switch bodies back. “We have to think about this. Even if we find a way to fix this, there’s no guarantee that we can do it without Fletcher’s cooperation. He might even know how to do it. But he definitely doesn’t seem interested in giving up your life anytime soon.”

“What are you saying?”

She chewed her lip. “I’m saying that...as much as it’ll probably kill me, I’m gonna have to gain his trust. Go along with his charade. I might be able to get some information from him in case we don’t find anything with this ‘evidence.’”

He smirked, and she thought she could see a ghost of Mulder’s smirk on that ugly face. “You’re not gonna kiss him, are you?”

Her face scrunched up with disgust, which was all the answer he needed. “Where do you need me to meet you?” She asked.

“I’ll get in touch with you.”

---

Mulder — Fletcher — had followed her. That was the only explanation. How else would he have known that she went back to Nevada? Or that she’d talked to “Fletcher?”

She’d been backed into a corner. Kersh had threatened her job, and there was no knowing how much she could help Mulder if she got fired. Plus, she needed to gain Fletcher’s trust.

Mulder approached her in the gas station, a paper bag in his hands. “Scully, I got it. I got the proof.”

She couldn’t bring herself to say anything to him, instead only looking up at him with guilt. He registered it a split second too late as multiple vehicles pulled up, nearly blinding him with their lights.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered before turning away, unable to watch as the soldiers barged in and took the bag from him before cuffing him.

“Scully?” His voice was more urgent now.

She looked back at him, her expression saying what she couldn’t out loud. I had to, Mulder. I’m so sorry.

She thought she saw understanding register in his face, but they were both distracted as Fletcher walked in, flanked by two other men. “Damn it, Morris,” One of them said to Mulder.

Mulder ignored him, though, completely losing it at the sight of Fletcher in his own body. “You! You son of a bitch!” He fought against the soldiers who were holding him. “You orchestrated this whole thing!” He continued struggling — fruitlessly — as the soldiers dragged him out of the store. “You bastard! Tell them the truth! He’s not me, Scully! Would I do this?”

At the sound of her name, she had to turn away again, pressing her lips together to fight the tears in her eyes. Did he think she didn’t believe him? That she’d willingly helped Fletcher do this? 

I didn’t have a choice. She kept repeating that in her head as if it could shake away the feeling that she’d just betrayed her best friend. Her partner. The person who trusted her more than anyone else in the world. 

She would fix this. She had to.

After a few moments, she felt Fletcher’s hand on her shoulder and had to resist the urge to shrug it off.

“You hate me now, right?” He asked. When she didn’t answer, he continued. “Dana, I’m sorry I narced on you to Kersh, but I was afraid you’d lose your job. I mean, when you stomped out of my apartment and I found out you were going to Nevada, I was worried you were going to do something crazy.”

She bit back a million retorts that built up in her mind, instead setting her jaw and turning to face him with a carefully even expression. “You did the right thing, Mulder.”

He blinked in surprise. “I did?”

She gave a tight smile. “I’ve been telling you for years you should play more by the book, haven’t I?”

He smiled with relief, unable to read her body language the way the real Mulder could. “Hey, it’s the new me.”

---

Two weeks suspension without pay. And on top of that, she couldn’t believe she’d agreed to dinner with Fletcher. Or that he’d asked. Was it really that easy to win him over after she’d nearly ripped his head off? A simple “you were right” and he thought everything was okay? She’d been even more stunned when he suggested a home-cooked meal. As far as she was aware, Mulder wasn’t exactly a master chef. In fact, she wasn’t sure what he could cook. Everything he did further squashed any doubts she had that Mulder — the real Mulder — had been telling the truth.

Still, she had to get Fletcher to cooperate. And she had a plan. She double-checked that she had her cuffs and gun before knocking on the door.

The sight of Mulder wearing an apron that said “something smells good” would normally be enough to make her bust out laughing, but unfortunately there was little to be found funny about this situation.

“Perfect timing,” Fletcher said. “Welcome.”

It wasn’t until he moved aside that she noticed how clean the apartment was. “Wow.” Her eyebrows shot up, genuinely impressed. A small part of her noted what a shame it was that it took some weird body-switching scenario for Mulder’s apartment to be cleaned. She was so stunned that she barely even noticed Fletcher taking her coat.

“You like, huh?” He asked a little too close to her ear. “Yeah, I thought it was time I stopped living like a frat boy.” He shrugged. “Come see the rest of the place.” Taking her hand, he led her through the living room and into the bedroom.

If the sight of Mulder’s clean apartment stunned her, then the sight of his bedroom — completely spotless and now including a bed — nearly overwhelmed her. Her jaw dropped at the sight. She was surprised to find a part of her actually missed the boxes and dusty Playboys. It may have been annoying, but at least it had been Mulder.

“Come. Sit.” Fletcher excitedly patted the bed.

“Um, no,” She started to back out, worried he was trying to trap her into something. There was a difference between going along with his act and going so far as to sleep with him. 

“Seriously, just check it out.” He reached out and pulled her by the wrist and sat her down on the bed. It moved under her way more than a normal mattress should. 

Oh, God. A waterbed? she thought, trying to hide her disgust. He sat down beside her and the movement of the bed knocked her off balance, falling back onto it. Her jaw dropped again as she saw her own reflection staring down at her, and her face flushed at the thought of being able to see herself during...  certain activities.

Fletcher propped himself up on his elbow. “D’ya hate it?” He asked, grinning devilishly.

She hesitated, trying to calm herself. “No, I don’t hate it,” she said, and unfortunately it wasn’t a complete lie. As awful as a waterbed was and as horrifying as an above-bed mirror was, at least Mulder had a bed now. Once this was all over, she might be able to actually stay the night here without stiff muscles. Perhaps just mild nausea from the waterbed.

His grin widened. “Well, alright then. Don’t go away.” The bed shifted nauseatingly as he got up and left the room. When he came back with champagne and accompanying flutes, Scully couldn’t stop her eyebrows from shooting upwards. Big plans.

He handed her a flute and she stared at it thoughtfully for a moment, deciding it was time for one last test. She was already certain that this man wasn’t Mulder, but as a scientist she needed all the evidence she could gather.

“Mulder,” She kept her voice light. “Remember that time we were lost in the woods down in Florida? And you got injured?”

He frowned, looking a bit panicked. “Uhh, vaguely. Why?”

“I just-” She shook her head with a frustrated sigh. “I can’t seem to remember the name of the song that I sang to you. Do you remember? The tune’s been stuck in my head all day,” She added, then started humming the chords to “Bad, Bad, Leroy Brown” to throw him off.

“Oh, that’s the, um-” Fletcher snapped his fingers a couple times, trying to remember. “The Jim Croce song. Leroy Brown.”

“Thaaat’s right,” She said as if she’d just remembered. “And that was what I sang to you?”

“Of course,” He turned his attention back to the champagne bottle. “I vividly remember that part.” He winked.

“Mhm,” She nodded, her jaw tight. She licked her lips and then turned to him. “Do you know what would really be fun?”

“What?”

She pulled out her handcuffs and dangled them in front of him with a cocked eyebrow. Fletcher looked like he’d nearly come on the spot. “Oh, yeah. Me first?”

“You first,” She smirked.

Excited, he couldn’t seem to take the cuffs from her fast enough. While he cuffed himself to the bed, she stood up and pulled out her gun. “Now what?” He asked, turning back, but flinched in surprise when he saw her gun aimed at him.

“You’re not Mulder.”

The panicked look on his face was nearly comical. “What?” The champagne cork popped at that moment, and Scully could already imagine laughing about that with the real Mulder in the future. “Baby-”

“‘Baby’ me and you’ll be peeing through a catheter,” She said, lowering the aim of her gun. “Your name is Morris Fletcher. It was Mulder who was arrested in the desert. Now, how do we get things back to normal?”

---

Fletcher had turned out to be completely useless and somehow knew nothing, but luckily Mulder’s source called while Scully was interrogating him. And after two more flights to Nevada and back — along with a nearly unsuccessful bar adventure — they arrived at the Lone Gunmens’ lair, flight recorder in tow.

Scully pressed on the buzzer. “Open up,” She called out. After a few moments, she started hearing the clicks and clanks that meant someone was unlocking the various locks.

Frohike opened the door. “Mulder.” He let them in, and Scully tried to brush off the fact that she hadn’t been greeted. It wasn’t even really Mulder, after all. “If I had known you were coming, I would have made more salsa.”

“We need your help right now,” Scully said, offering up the flight recorder to Langly.

“Who crashed?” He looked it over with interest.

“Who, what, why,” She said. “I need to know everything that’s on that data recorder.”

The three rattled off technical terms that she didn’t care to remember, then Byers turned to Fletcher. “Where did you get this?” He asked him.

What am I, chopped liver? “Groom Lake,” Scully answered. “Outside Area 51.”

“Dreamland.” Frohike raised his eyebrows. They had a brief discussion about some spy plane before Fletcher — browsing through an issue of the  Lone Gunman  — started giggling to himself.

“What’s with him?” Frohike asked.

“Ignore him,” she said.

“Mulder-”

“He’s not Mulder,” She corrected with exasperation. 

All three Gunmen turned to her with questioning looks.

“This aircraft.” She pointed at the flight recorder. “When it crashed it somehow resulted in a…a body swap. Between Mulder and…” She gestured to Fletcher. “This asshole.”

The three looked confused, both by the situation and by the fact that Scully was the one saying these sorts of things. They laughed nervously, but stopped when they saw she wasn’t laughing along with them.

“Asshole?” Fletcher sounded offended, putting down the paper and approaching her. “Listen here, lady, you probably wouldn’t have even realized I wasn’t Mulder if you two weren’t banging.”

Scully stiffened, feeling three pairs of eyes slowly turn to look at her.

“Banging?” Langly asked.

She clenched her jaw, thinking quickly. “No, he’s just trying to rile me up because I embarrassed him when I caught him with Kersh’s secretary.”

“Kersh’s secretary?”

“Ah,” Fletcher nodded in understanding. “Keeping it a secret, huh?”

“There’s no secret to keep,” She bit back, her eyes threatening murder. Fletcher seemed more amused than fazed, though, which only angered her more.

The Gunmen exchanged looks, unsure who to believe. Scully inwardly groaned. Great. Now the three most suspicious men in the world had reason to wonder if she and Mulder were together. That'll be fun to deal with.

“Who the hell are you?” Frohike asked him.

Fletcher explained who he was, then managed to rile the three of them up by claiming to be the one who came up with most of their stories. Scully let it continue at first, simply grateful that they were distracted from the topic of her relationship with Mulder. But then Frohike brandished his spatula.

“The name’s Frohike, you punk ass. What the hell did you do with Mulder?”

“Shut up, all of you,” Scully stepped in, then pointed to the flight recorder. “If you guys want Mulder back, then get me these results.”

---

“You don’t look too happy. Don’t tell me I’m gonna have to put two kids through school.”

Scully looked up at Mulder, hugging herself. She still couldn’t quite believe it was him. “I just got off the phone with Frohike.”

She explained how the whole thing had been reliant on completely random variables — ones that they had next to no chance of replicating. And even if they could, there was no guarantee that it would work.

Looking completely downtrodden now, Mulder glanced over to the car where Fletcher sat. “What about him?”

She followed his gaze and sighed. “‘Agent Mulder’ has become Kersh’s new golden boy. The son of a bitch confesses to Kersh more than I do to my priest. I’m just tagging along for the ride.”

He turned back to her. “What do you mean, ‘just tagging along?’”

She pressed her lips together. “I’m out of the Bureau. I’ve been censured and relieved of my position.”

“No.” His voice was nearly a whisper. “You can explain it to them like you explained it to me,” he said urgently “You have the data. You can make them understand. You can get your job back.”

She looked back up at him affectionately, appreciating his sympathy. But she felt no desire to continue at the Bureau without him. Or worse — with a fake him. 

“I’d kiss you if you weren’t so damn ugly,” she said, and meant it. By far one of the worst parts of this situation was that she wasn’t able to give him a proper goodbye. They’d known each other for years, but their relationship was still so new. Ever since it started, she’d been afraid of how it might end, but she’d never imagined it would be like this. Forced apart by some weird, random X-File. Not even a conspiracy, just completely random variables within a nearly impossible feat of science. She supposed it was some sort of poetic justice, maybe they even deserved it. Like so many other times before, a chance for happiness was being stolen away from her and there was nothing she could do about it.

Mulder smiled wistfully at her and nodded, looking like he wanted to kiss her anyway. They stared into each other's eyes the way they always did, and she wondered if he was thinking about the same things she was, but the moment was interrupted by Fletcher honking the horn.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer!” He called out, his head hanging out of the window.

“If I shoot him, is that murder or suicide?”

“Neither, if I do it first.” She squeezed his arm, then turned towards the car. 

“Hey, Scully.”

She turned back, and he held out a closed hand in offering. She held out her own, and he dropped some sunflower seeds into it before taking one back to put in his mouth. Yep, she thought, looking up at him. That’s Mulder.

She got in the car and watched him get in his. What kind of lives would they have now? She didn’t know what she would do when she got back home. She couldn’t even teach at the academy anymore. Maybe she would turn back to medicine, finally returning to what would have made her parents proud years ago.

She only knew two things for certain: she wouldn’t stop searching for a way to fix this, to bring Mulder back. And she wouldn’t stop investigating X-Files. What was his life’s work had become hers as well, and she could only hope that continuing to investigate them would help heal what was being broken at having to leave him like this. Maybe she would even find a solution to this problem buried in a random case.

And what about Mulder? She indulged in wondering what he would do with his life as she drove. He had a wife now. And kids. And a more regular job than theirs had been. That normalcy that she’d asked about, he was now forced to experience without her. No doubt he’d try to repair Fletcher’s marriage despite the fact that he wasn’t him and didn’t love his wife. That was just the kind of person Mulder was. He’d learn to like the kids, probably even grow attached to them. Despite his insistence on being a misfit and an outcast, he had a knack for dealing with others. When he tried.

He’d go to work, probably using it as a way to get the inside scoop on some X-Files. She knew he’d never stop investigating them, either. Maybe someday, by complete coincidence, they’d meet up again on the same case. They’d catch up, and it would be nice, except it wouldn’t be. Because it would still be Mulder, but it wouldn’t be him, not fully.

She wiped away a stray tear as Fletcher started talking, telling some story about the motel manager.

---

“Come on, Mulder, let’s go.” Scully tugged on his sleeve, shooting a glare at the man who had confronted him. She saw him light a cigarette as they drove away.

For some reason, the four-hour red-eye back to Washington felt like it was nearly the tenth one she’d made. She brushed it off, assuming it was just because they were always flying. Mulder — in the seat next to her — looked like he was trying and failing to sleep.

“Sorry your confidential source didn’t pan out,” she murmured, not wanting to wake anyone who was actually sleeping.

He turned to her with a smile, then took her hand. “Well, I guess you were right, Scully. Just another crackpot who watches too much Star Trek.”

They managed to get back in time to change clothes at her apartment and go to work, where the two yawned all day and barely got any actual work done. Luckily, their unauthorized trip to Nevada seemed to go unnoticed by Kersh. At one point, Scully opened her desk drawer and noticed what looked like two coins fused together. Where had that come from? She considered getting Mulder’s attention to show it to him, but decided she was too tired to hear a conspiracy ramble today. 

After work, they walked to her car (not having had time to drive him by his place to pick up his car before work). She yawned. “It’s Friday,” -which was strange. Wasn’t it just Monday? Maybe she was more tired than she thought- “are you staying at my place tonight? Or would you rather sleep alone?”

He yawned back. “I don’t know, Scully. After being treated to the comforts of your bed, it’s been getting harder and harder to fall asleep on my couch.”

“You should get your own bed, then,” she quipped, putting her car into gear.

“Then what would be my excuse for spending the night at your place?”

She snorted. “I can think of a few.”

They dropped by his place so he could grab some things, and she begrudgingly followed him up to his apartment, sleepily leaning against the wall next to his door as he unlocked it. His jaw dropped when he opened the door, then he checked his apartment number as if unable to believe he was at the right unit. 

“Mulder?” She straightened up. “What’s wrong?”

Wordless, he gestured into his apartment, and she turned to look. Her own jaw dropped at the sight of the spotlessly clean apartment with a few new tasteful decorations. They both stepped into it, mouths agape, and looked around.

“Mulder, did you...hire someone?” Her voice pitched up higher than usual due to her state of shock.

“No, I-” He stammered, then looked at her. “You aren’t joking with me, are you? Was this you?”

She shook her head, her eyebrows raised in innocence. “It looks nice,” she said, then turned to him with a cocked brow and a smirk. “But where will you put the white picket fence?”

He smiled and put an arm around her shoulder. “Oh, I was thinking right about here, in the middle of everything.”

She grinned at him, but he looked away, distracted. He’d noticed that his bedroom door was open and went over to it, peering inside. 

“Scully.”

“What?” She rushed over to look, following him into the room, but stopped short at the sight of a new bed. Standing proudly in the middle of his now-clean room. “Holy crap, Mulder. How- How did this get here?”

He shrugged. “Maybe it was a gift. Maybe someone overheard you badgering me to get one,” he joked, but she wasn’t paying attention to him.

“Mulder,” She muttered, leaning towards the bed and looking up. He followed her gaze and saw his own reflection looking back. Slowly, they both turned to look at each other with equal amounts of incredulity.

“Well,” He put his hands on his hips and sighed. “I guess...gift horse and all that.”

“Mulder, you’re not at all suspicious about how this happened?”

“Right now, all I care about is getting some sleep. And now I’ve got a bed.” He sat down on it and was startled by how much it moved. 

“A waterbed?” Scully’s eyebrows looked like they would just about shoot off her forehead.

He groaned and flopped back fully. “Just when I thought my back would get a break.”

#kai.fic #xf fanfic #msr fanfic #timing fic