#x files revival

[gingerteaonthetardis]

The X-Files | S11E09 Nothing Lasts Forever

And therefore, I speak to Him through you.

#project title for this one was 'godisawoman.mp4' so jot that down #anyway i am going. out of my FUCKING MIND about this. jeeeeesus christ #msredit #txfedit #xfilesedit #x files revival #dana scully #fox mulder #mulder x scully #abbey gifs #tvgifs #televisongifs

[cecilysass]

Shine On (14/16)

Read on AO3 | Tagging @today-in-fic

Chapter 14: Rotten Wood

Farrs Corner, Virginia February 25, 2015 Two days later

The house is silent when Mulder steps through the kitchen door. At first he thinks no one is there, and he has a little corresponding stab of anxiety.

Then there’s a screech as Scully pushes her chair away from the kitchen table and stands to face him. He sees she’s set herself up there to work, her laptop nearly buried by drifts of paperwork.

He’s been having trouble interpreting Scully. Yesterday morning she drove off in his car with cryptic explanations, then reappeared an hour later with her laptop, a rolling suitcase full of clothes, and no further comment. Mulder assumes that means she’s planning on staying around a while. He hopes it does. He’s been superstitious about asking too many questions.

“Mulder,” she calls out, taking an awkward step towards him. He’s only been gone forty minutes to the hardware store, but her expression suggests she’s relieved to see him, like he’s been gone for months.

“Hey,” he says casually. “I think I found everything I need.” He holds up the two bags in his hands as evidence, kicking the door shut behind him. “Where are…”

He doesn’t finish, suddenly self-conscious about his choice of words. He’d almost said “the kids.” Way, way too strange.

“They went for a run.” A hint of a crease in her forehead. She pushes some errant strands of hair back behind her ears. Then she repeats the gesture, once, twice, three times as she walks distractedly to the front window. He gets it now: she’s anxious, she can barely keep herself still. “It’s been about twenty minutes since they left.”

Mulder follows her across the room, setting his hardware store bags down next to the boarded-up door frame, his project for the afternoon. He begins to pull the items he purchased out of the bag, watching her out of the corner of his eye. She’s wearing some soft gray sweater and tightly cut jeans that cling to her figure, making her look girlish. She leans against the window, her eyes scanning the road.

“Twenty minutes isn’t that long,” he comments, pulling some caulk out of the bag. “I ran with Jackson yesterday. He knows the route.”

She nods absently, still peering outside, her eyes searching up and down the road.

He stops what he’s doing, setting his repair supplies on the floor, and walks over to stand behind her, placing his hands on her small shoulders. Her sweater is so soft it melts under his fingers.

“You know,” he says gently, “you should probably worry more about us elderly mortals than about those superhero youngsters. They can take care of themselves.”

“I know,” she says, twisting her head around to flash him a smile that evaporates quickly.

“They’re what you might call resilient,” he says. “They’ve literally survived death, Scully.”

“You’ve survived death, too,” she says, her shoulders rising and falling under his hands. “And I still worry about you.”

“Do you?” he says in a low voice. His hands slide possessively from her shoulders to circle carefully around her waist, drawing her firmly against him.

She doesn’t pull away, but she doesn’t relax into his embrace either. She turns to him, as tense as a coiled spring. “I worry about everything,” she admits. Her voice drops to a choked whisper. “Mulder. Didn’t you say you wanted us to be sure…?”

I’m always sure, he thinks. “Yeah,” he says, letting his arms release from her waist gently and reluctantly. “I did say that.” Be sensible here. Wait for more direct signs. He runs his fingers through his hair, breathing through his anxiety. “I need to get to work anyway, and I bet you have things to finish up, too.”

She watches him as he returns to his new supplies from the hardware store, seemingly hesitant to go back to her work.

“What did you get at the store?”

“Oh, I’m getting rid of rot,” Mulder says blithely. “Cleaning house. Same old, same old. I hope I’m more successful than I used to be.”

She frowns, crossing to stare at the damaged door up close. “Rot?” She folds her arms over her chest. “That’s not good in a wooden house, Mulder.”

“I noticed it around the cracked jamb,” Mulder says. “Just a little. I think it’s because there wasn’t a good seal and some moisture’s been getting in. So I can clean it out and fix it now before any more damage is done.”

“How lucky hybrid assassins decided to kick your door down. Or you would have missed it.”

There’s a certain snap to her comment that takes him back, makes him think of earlier iterations of their relationship. And she’s not walking back to her laptop. She’s staring at the door frame with crossed arms, idly shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

“So are you going to help me?” he asks casually. “Or just sit around and make smartass comments?”

She turns her head to regard him. “Let me consider my answer.”

“Come on, Scully,” he says with a hopeful chuckle and a sideways glance.

***

She mostly watches him work, even though he knows she’s handy herself, probably more than him. He’s taught himself a lot about maintaining a house since moving here, but she grew up knowing how to use a wrench. Her father raised a daughter who knew her way around a toolbox, she always said. When they first moved in, they’d fixed up a lot of this house together, taking breaks to make love in any room they were in.

“You should probably get this whole place inspected,” she comments, sitting on the floor with her knees hugged to her chest. “Rot can be insidious.” He’s using a crowbar to pry the rotted wood from the frame, and she’s wrinkling her nose when he’s successful.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “I should. I will. Especially if I put the place on the market soon.”

“The market?” she says sharply. “You’re selling the house?”

“I’m thinking about it.”

She sits up straighter, dropping her knees, taken aback. “But you love this house, Mulder.”

Mulder digs his crowbar in deeper. “I did love this house,” he corrects her carefully. “I’m not sure I love it in the same way I used to.”

She seems to digest this a moment, looking around the room as though seeing it anew. “But where… where would you move?”

“Somewhere closer to work, I thought,” he says. “More intown. If we’re going to be back in the Hoover building. Maybe Arlington? I don’t know. And, uh—” He successfully ejects several shards of wood onto the floor. “I’d like a bigger place, maybe.”

“A bigger place?” Scully shepherds the discarded wooden shards into a pile with the inside of her foot.

“Yeah,” he says, feeling a flush of embarrassment. “So that, you know—maybe these new family members could all stay over. Have their own rooms. No more couches and air mattresses. Big old Mulder family holiday or whatever.”

She stops pushing the shards with her foot, her eyes on him. “You’re assuming Rose and Jackson are going to remain in our lives.”

“Yeah,” he admits simply. “I’m assuming that.”

He doesn’t say what they’re both thinking: that Jackson’s criminal charges are still unresolved, and that even if they were resolved, the two of them have no legal standing in his life at all.

“You’re … considering Rose your family member, too?”

He gives her a look. “She’s Jackson’s sister, isn’t she? Also, I think I might know her mom from somewhere.”

The corners of Scully’s lips lift, but she doesn’t say anything right away. “We’ve barely talked, Rose and me,” she says in a monotone voice. “She seems a little … distant.”

Mulder digs the crowbar in again. “She probably has understandable reasons for that, huh?”

“Yes.” Scully’s voice doesn’t waver. “I know she does.”

“But acting distant doesn’t necessarily mean you don’t care,” he says, pushing on the crowbar’s handle. He gives her a sly look. “Right, Scully?”

Her expression doesn’t change, but her eyebrow twitches. “Right.”

He manages to catapult another cascade of rotten wood chips onto the floor, and Scully watches him silently.

“You’re sweet, Mulder. To think about Rose and Jackson staying at your new house. To … plan around it.”

“Yeah,” he says. “I’m sweet.” He swallows the lump in his throat. “Truthfully, I was also thinking you might be there.”

“Oh yeah? Do I get my own bedroom, too?”

He stops working and turns to look at her. “God,” he says. “I hope not.”

Her return gaze burns into him. With painstaking slowness she licks the rim of her bottom lip. He knows he needs to find this out.

“If I could shine into your head,” Mulder asks, “and see what you wanted, Scully … would I see you living with me again? All the time? Or is that just something I want?”

She doesn’t answer right away, pushing herself up from the floor, brushing herself off. “Mulder, I’m very grateful you can’t shine me,” she comments. Her hands, rapidly smoothing down her sweater, begin to slow down, and her tone softens. “But I think you would see … that. Us living together again. Yes.”

His heart rate picks up. Good, but this isn’t all he needs to hear. “And … this Mulder who you’d want to live with.” He leans his head back, feeling at a rare loss for the right words. “Who is he, exactly?” She reacts to his question, obviously puzzled. “William’s dad? Agent Mulder? The guy who runs errands to the hardware store?”

“Aren’t you … all of those?”

“I don’t know,” he replies shortly, and he’s surprised that there is such a crackle of resentment in his words. “I know that I’m the man you left. The one you could have moved back in with at any point in time. Anything that’s changed recently, to make this situation different—that doesn’t have anything fundamentally to do with me. I’m the same guy.”

“I don’t think you’re the same Mulder as when I left,” she replies. “I don’t believe you really think that either.”

He doesn’t, as a matter of fact. He turns away from her, setting his crowbar down meticulously, and he walks to look out the window.

“And I didn’t leave you, Mulder. I left a situation,” she adds to his turned back. She seems to search for her next words. “Something was destroying both of us, and we couldn’t help one another.”

Mulder turns around again, scratching his face. “I was the one having mental health problems though.”

She huffs, then smiles sadly. “Your perception of that says a lot,” Scully says. “We could barely see what the other was going through.”

He says nothing, considering her words.

“Losing William was something we never dealt with,” she continues. “We let our guilt and our pain sit with us for too long. We told ourselves we could handle it…”

“And we couldn’t.”

“And we couldn’t,” agrees Scully. “And it got worse. Until you couldn’t leave the couch, and I couldn’t stop working, and we couldn’t listen to each other or give one another what we needed.” She kicks idly at the wood pieces on the floor. “That’s why I had to leave.”

Mulder nods stonily, gazing up and down the door frame. He can see that she’s right. He can even see that she’s been saying this, in some form, all along, but he hasn’t been able to hear her.

“So maybe,” he ventures, gesturing broadly to the door, “we had to, you know, pry out all of the rot so the frame could survive.”

“Wow,” she says, “there’s a tortured metaphor.”

“You have no poetry in your soul, Scully.”

“All the great poetry being about fungal growth, of course.”

“The frame is … surviving, right?” Mulder says, his voice turning vulnerable.

Her eyes lock on his instantly. “You’re the one who turned me down,” Scully reminds him.

“Yeah,” he says. “I know. I … wasn’t sure if… I could…”

She walks over to him, cradling his cheek in her hand. Her fingers brush against the light stubble there. His breathing steadies.

“Tell me why you did that,” she whispers.

He stares back at her, his mouth cracking open in hesitation for a moment.

“I wanted you to want me again,” he confesses to her. “Not the family, not the job–although I want those things, too, of course. But I miss when you wanted me. Just me. Like you did in the old days.” He studies her face: smooth, unruffled. “At least I think you did.”

She says nothing, then slowly lifts her mouth into her closed-lip smile.

“What?” he says querulously.

Her smile evolves into a full-on, throaty laugh.

“Jesus, Scully, you’re laughing at me now? Really?”

“I’m sorry,” she says. “But you are being a little ridiculous.”

Her fingers move up to ruffle his hair, and it reminds him of when she used to pretend to check him for head injuries for a transparent excuse to touch him. He permits himself to close his eyes and enjoy her touch.

“Don’t you have any idea how much I want you? How much I have always wanted you?” she asks, in the most sexy voice he’s ever heard. “If you could shine me, Mulder, it would only be you. Always.”

It’s such a silly and obvious statement, but it’s such a relief he could sob, he could sink to his knees and collapse. Instead, he retreats to familiar territory and makes a joke.

“Oh yeah? All Mulder, all the time? It sounds like it might be fun to shine you, Scully.”

“You did shine me once. Remember?” He cracks his eyes to stare at her and she’s smiling, Sphinx-like, continuing to run her fingers through his hair and down his neck. He realizes he is subconsciously leaning towards her, drawn in. Always drawn in, since day one.

“Yeah, but your thoughts were much more chaste then,” he sighs. “You hadn’t been ruined by my perversions yet.”

She snorts, which might be unattractive coming from anyone on earth besides Scully. “My thoughts about you, Mulder,” she whispers, her fingers lightly skimming down his jaw, “were never what I would call chaste.”

He slides his hands around the back of that sumptuous gray sweater. He draws himself into the familiar aura of her body heat, and he kisses her, unable to keep the reflexive smile off of his lips.

It feels so good to kiss her again that he thinks he could never stop.

His palms sculpt her silhouette, the curve of her waist and the line of her rib cage. She’s so soft, so touchable everywhere. She smells like Scully, like something sweet and sharply herbal, like coffee beans and clean sheets. He feels like he could sink into her forever.

He takes eager nips at her pillowy lips, and in response, Scully hums: a relieved, tension-releasing sound.

His mouth pushes in, tasting her again and again. His hands rest on her rib cage, his thumbs tracing the curved underside of her breasts. As soft as heaven. What a very good sweater. He’s going to ask her to wear this sweater everyday.

He breaks the kiss to walk her backwards, pinning her against the wall between the door and the window.

Then he stares down at her, amazed, and she stares back at him with a smile in her eyes. His beautiful Scully. He loves her looking like this: lips kissed hard, hair mussed, neckline of her sweater akimbo. It reminds him of their early days making out when they were still partners in the Hoover Building the first time.

He’s filled with the heady idea that this could be them for decades. That they could have this forever. Something ebullient fills his chest.

Taking hold of her waist, he leans down to bury his face in her neck. She makes a muted sound when his tongue meets her skin, something between a laugh and a gasp. And that sound, from her, causes his mind to leap to a hundred memories—his mouth nuzzling her collarbone, his mouth lapping at her nipple, his mouth buried between her thighs. His whole body begins to vibrate; he hardens fast. He pushes against her like an eager teenager, seizing her wrists.

“Mulder,” she sighs, not sounding exactly disapproving.

He pushes his nose past her hair and lets his mouth trail adoringly around her ear, suddenly wondering if this should continue right now. Because his mind races with possibilities. He could slide his hands underneath the sweater and avail her of it, or maybe cop a good old-fashioned feel over her bra. Or his hands could slide around and cup her ass—Jesus, he loves her ass—and hoist her up further on the wall, lift a leg, unbutton those jeans.

There’s no time to decide on any of these appealing options when other thoughts interrupt his.

Minor child returning to the house.

As before, the words come into Mulder’s head unbidden. Young innocent boy returning to your house in five minutes. Please, please be prepared.

Mulder closes his eyes, releases her wrists, and presses his forehead to Scully’s.

“We gotta stop right now,” he breathes.

“What’s wrong?” she whispers, her own breaths still coming heavy.

“Jackson and Rose are on their way back,” Mulder says. “I, uh, got a warning just now.”

“A … warning?”

“Uh huh.” He chuckles sheepishly.

He feels her muscles tense in his arms as she realizes. “Oh my god.” Scully slips her face down and buries it in his chest. Her words are muffled. “If he knew to send a warning… that means he knew there was a reason to warn you.”

“He’s thirteen, Scully,” Mulder says, arms encircling her. “He knows how babies are made. He’s been reading adult minds his whole life. I think he’s not going to be shocked or traumatized to know we might—”

“No, Mulder. Don’t even say it. It’s absolutely mortifying,” she moans. “We have some ... logistical problems to solve.”

“Sure,” he says warmly. “A few.” He pulls her even closer, rocking her back and forth, her head pressed against his heart. He’d never tell her, but he fucking loves these logistical problems. They are the best problems he can imagine.

For so long he couldn’t see anything to look forward to. Right now he can’t stop himself from looking forward to everything.

***

#xfiles fanfic #the x files #x files fanfic #fox mulder #dana scully #x files #xf fanfic #msr #jackson van de kamp #x files revival

[stephy-gold]

Back with the fact that blow my mind a few weeks ago (Dana scully is the same age now as Maggie scully was in 1993 or 1994 when Dana was abducted in Duane Barry)

I did some research and found that according to script Maggie Scully was 58 at beyond the sea (1x13) so when Dana abduction happened in Duane Barry (2x5) Maggie must be 59-60, give it or take.

(If she was 58 at beyond the sea that would mean she was born in 1935??? And that she died at age 79-81??? in Home again 10x4)

in 2023 Dana Scully turned 59 years old, more less, the same age her mother was when her abduction happened.

And if you want your heart broken you can acknowledge the fact that if emily lived she would’ve been 29 also this year 2023, same age her mom (Dana scully) was when she was abducted.

#dana scully #fox mulder #the x files #txf #x files #msr #mulder x scully #emily mulder scully #emily sim #duane barry #maggie scully #abduction arc #home again #beyond the sea #the x files 30th anniversary #x files revival #disclaimer #emily is a happy young woman working in medical practice #I did the math because it was cool for me to see the full circle of the three generation ages in different moments of their history #disclaimer emily wouldn’t be abducted like her mom was

[atths--twice]

Passing the Time

While waiting for labs at the hospital, Scully helps Mulder pass the time.

Fictober day 6. Prompt: That's All? Easy.

For my dear friend Ingrid. 💓

February 7, 2018 George Washington Memorial Hospital 

“How much longer did they say?” Mulder asked Scully as she closed the door and rejoined him in the hospital’s waiting area. 

“Twenty minutes at least,” she replied and he sighed heavily.

“We’ve already been waiting for two hours.” 

“Lab work takes time. You know that.” 

“I do,” he said with a nod. “I also know that we’ve been out of the game for a while. Maybe there were advancements while we were away.” 

“Excuse me?” she asked, picking up a random magazine as she sat down. “We haven’t been away from anything. You have. I worked in a hospital until very recently, remember? I am aware how long labs can take.” 

“You know what I meant,” he said, rolling his eyes and she hummed. Glancing at the pages before her, but not finding much interest in them. “I guess I just forgot about the waiting part.” 

“No, you’ve never been good at waiting,” she said, turning the pages with a sigh. 

“In regard to some things,” he said and she turned her head to look at him. He shrugged and gave her a small smile. 

“Hmm,” she hummed again, her attention back on the magazine. His leg bumped hers as he began to bounce it and she pressed into him, silently telling him to stop. “Don’t you have something you can do on your phone? A game to play or something you can read?” 

“Not really.” 

“You had that one game you were playing. Just do that and the time will go by faster,” she said, feeling as though she was speaking to a large child. 

“But it’s boringgggg,” he said, dragging the word out dramatically while he bumped his leg into hers. 

“Mulder,” she said, huffing out a laugh. “Twenty minutes is hardly any time at all. You’ll be fine.” 

“At least twenty minutes. That’s what you said they said, right? So it could be more.” 

“You wanna find a supply closet and make out?” she asked, turning her head and looking at him as he immediately stilled. 

“You… you’re… seriously?” 

“Of course not,” she said, looking back at the magazine and shaking her head. “We’re working.” 

“If that’s the only hold up, I’ll take a rain check.” 

“Sure,” she said, turning another page and not giving it much thought. 

“I’m gonna hold you to it,” he said, his voice lower and she fought back a smile, enjoying teasing him. 

“With or without clothing?” she asked, her voice also low. 

“Definitely without,” he answered quickly and this time she was unable to hold back her smile. “Or whatever you prefer.” 

She turned her head and held his eyes, seeing the desire within them. Leaning closer, she grazed his cheek with her own as she brought her lips close to his ear. 

“I prefer without as well,” she whispered, brushing a kiss to his cheek as she pulled away. 

He groaned softly and she smiled as her attention turned back to the magazine. 

“Christ, Scully,” he breathed, putting his arm along the back of her chair and looking around the room. 

“You gonna make it?” she teased and he laughed as he shifted in his seat. 

“Honestly? Sometimes I don’t know, Scully.” 

“I do enjoy keeping you on your toes. Or your back.” 

“Fuck,” he breathed, shaking his head. She bit her lip to keep from laughing. 

“Can I offer any help to alleviate any discomfort you’re presently experiencing?”

“Yeah, you can stop talking,” he nearly growled. 

“Or I could offer a distraction.” 

“No, that’s how we ended up here.” 

“A different kind of distraction,” she said with a laugh. 

“I’ll be the judge. Let me hear  it.” 

“You consider yourself an intelligent man,” she stated, looking at the magazine. Pausing on a page, she considered the pair of pants the model was wearing.

“I do indeed, but I’m not sure I’m liking where this is heading.” 

“You have an incredible memory. Some might say it's too incredible.” 

“It’s definitely served me well,” he said, stretching out his legs and crossing the left foot over the right. “In more ways than one.” 

“Hmm,” she said, trying not to let her mind wander too far, knowing how well his memory had served in their sex life. Even from the very beginning, it was as though he had memorized every spot that made her cry out and beg him for more.  

“So what did you have in mind?” he asked and she shook her head, pushing away those thoughts. 

Later, she told herself. Definitely later. 

“Make a list of all fifty states,” she said and he looked at her. 

“A list of all the states? That’s your grand plan to help me pass the time?” he asked, moving his arm and sitting up, his brow furrowed even as he smiled. “List the states? That’s all? Easy.” 

“And the capitals,” she said as he stood up, patting his suit jacket, most likely looking for a pen. 

“What?” he asked, stopping and staring at her. “The capitals too?” 

“You said listing the states was easy. We’ve got time to kill so… capitals too,” she said, turning a page and raising an eyebrow at him. 

“Oh… you’re going to regret this. I’ll be done way before the labs are.” 

“So you say,” she said, looking at the magazine. “Yet there you stand, writing nothing down.” 

“Oh, you… you…” He shook his head, waving his finger at her. “I’m gonna find some paper and then… be prepared to be amazed.” 

“I’m all a tingle,” she said with an exaggerated shiver. 

“You… ha ha ha,” he said, walking out of the room to hunt down some paper. 

She smiled as she put the magazine down and reached for another. 

He was back quickly, heading to the small table in the corner of the waiting area, when she stood up and stopped him. 

“Give me your phone.” 

“You don’t trust me?” 

“No,” she laughed. “Not for things like this. Gimme it.” 

“I can’t believe you don’t trust me,” he said, taking his phone from his pocket and handing it to her. “I would never-”

“Dyspareunia,” she said, putting his phone in her pocket. “Thought of that word on your own to build off of your previous word spare?” She raised her eyebrows and he shrugged with his palms up, a guilty smile on his face. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. I’ll be holding onto your phone. Go on.” 

“Bossy,” he said, as he continued past her. 

“You love it,” she stated and he nodded, grinning at her. 

“I absolutely do. Especially when-”

“Nope,” she said, pointing at the paper. “Get to writing.” He saluted as he sat down as she shook her head as she also sat down. 

Quiet fell over the room and she was surprised when she realized ten minutes had passed without any interruptions. Looking over at him, she smiled as she saw how focused he was as he wrote. Suddenly feeling sleepy, she set the magazine beside her, crossed her arms, and closed her eyes. 

“Hey,” Mulder said softly and she opened her eyes. “It always amazes me how you can fall asleep anywhere.” 

“Are you done?” she asked, sitting up and looking at the paper in his hand. 

“Why yes, Miss Scully. I got all my homework done,” he said in a southern drawl, handing the paper to her. She took it with a smile, her eyes running over his words. 

“You know,” he said as he sat down. “That was actually harder than I thought it would be.” 

“Hmm,” she hummed. “That’s not surprising.” 

“What are you trying to say?” he asked and she laughed quietly.

“Nothing about you in particular. It’s just not something we think about in our normal day to day life, so it’s not surprising that it proved to be somewhat difficult.” 

“As long as it wasn’t a dig at my intelligence,” he said, sticking out his lower lip. 

“I would never. Did I not call you an intelligent man earlier?” 

“No. You stated that I considered myself an intelligent man.” 

“Did I?” she asked, tapping her finger against the paper as she read. 

Juneau, Alaska. Austin, Texas. Olympia, Washington.    “You did. Find any mistakes?” 

“Not yet,” she said, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. 

“You won’t. Because, I have a fantastic memory, as I believe you said.” 

“Ohhh. You were so close,” she said, closing her eyes briefly and shaking her head. “I said you had an incredible memory, but it looks like I was wrong.” 

“Fantastic… incredible. One would say they’re interchangeable,” he said, moving his hands as though weighing the words on a scale. 

“Hmm,” she hummed, nodding in agreement. 

Columbus, Ohio. Montpelier, Vermont. Bismarck, North Dakota. 

“So what’s the word, Teach?” he asked as she folded the paper in half. 

“All correct. One hundred percent,” she said, smiling as she turned her head to look at him. 

“A hundred percent. That should get a gold star,” he stated and she sighed. 

“Unfortunately, I’m all out of gold stars at the moment.” 

“Huh…” he said, rubbing his fingers across his chin. “No gold stars? You got anything else of value? I mean… a perfect paper achieved by my incredibly fantastic memory… it deserves something.” 

Smiling again as she leaned closer to him, she placed a hand on his cheek and kissed him softly. Then again. Then once more, her lips lingering on his. 

“Better than a gold star?” she whispered and he hummed as he kissed her before pulling back slightly. 

“Much better,” he whispered back, bumping his nose gently against hers. 

She pulled back further, smiling at him, her fingers scratching lightly at the stubble upon his cheek. He smiled and she dropped her hand with a sigh just as the door to the waiting area opened and the lab technician stepped inside. 

“Agents, I have the results you’ve been waiting for,” he said and they both stood to their feet and followed the technician down the hall. 

Though her focus was on the case and the new evidence they now had, her mind kept drifting to the softness of Mulder’s lips and how she wanted to feel them on hers again. 

Without clothing this time, she thought. Most assuredly without clothing. 

#fictober 23 #fictober 2023 #xffictober23 #xf fanfic #the x files #msr #x files revival #season 11 #waiting for labs at the hospital #boredom #finding ways to pass the time #teasing #flirting #gentle kissing #falling in love again #story prompt

[angegova]

Summary:

Summary: This is my first fic. I wrote this just because I cannot live with CC version and I had to add my own closure ... hope you enjoy..No Beta.. sorry..

Tagging @today-in-fic

Mulder enters the church, takes his glasses off to adapt himself to the darkness of the place.

He can see a stream of light entering trough the stained glass showing a multicolor rays of gold, blue, purple, red and how it all sits right upon Scully it makes her hair brighter. Mulder can help but wondering it this small beam is a God’s signal upon her. He walks the remaining steps and sits next to her ….

“Hey” – he says in a whisper- She gives him a tiny smile.

“You know Scully of all the possible scenarios that ran through my head, I’ve never ever thought this could happen, I never thought that all the choices will lead us to this very moment “

She is silent… emotion evident in her face.

“I mean… we are really here and”. He takes one of her hands in his and bring it to his mouth for a kiss. “And we had been granted something so big … a second chance... it’s like a wakeup call .... I can’t even…. understand the how “

Scully remains silent looking at the hand in her lap… after a long silence from her…  Mulder places his other hand on her chin and lifts her head to look her in the eyes.

“Talk to me”

“Mulder... I just ... I don’t know how I feel…. I want so bad to hope for this but it’s just so difficult.... I am tired of hoping for things that are always taken away from me... from us...  I don’t want to hope again only to find out at the end that it was never meant to be”

He lets go of her chin and places it in on her abdomen, Scully follows  and places one hand on top of his...“I can hope for you and me Scully, but I need to know if this is what you want” ….He closes his eyes rest his  forehead in her temple.

“I want this so much Mulder...  and I feel guilty for it …I am terrified... I don’t know how this can be different from last time… how can I bring another life to be just…” Scully chokes with tears in her eyes.

“Hey no, no … look at me Scully…  I know this whole situation it’s odd, out of time, out of place… but this is our doing Scully…  just you and me… no wicked plots... no darkness behind it... we made this..” He softly clutches her belly. “I don’t want darkness to take this away from us …not this time “

“How can you be sure that this only us ..that this is not something else?” She whispers and leans into him desperately  wanting  the  strength of his believes to carry her through this …

“I just feel it, don’t ask me why.. I feel like this has ignited something in me … I understand how you feel… I do… believe me I do…  but we´ll figure  this out step by step…. let me be the one to carry you whenever you need, let me believe for the two of us...  I remember when I told you that you deserved so much more... and you do Scully you always have …I wanted this for you so badly but  I  was never sure that  I deserved this for me, now I want  so much to be a part of this even if I am… this old “he smiles  ….

Scully opens her eyes taking on his words, her eyes flooded with tears ... “Mulder”

“Let’s   take this leap of faith together … I promise I’ll be there all the all the way, I’ll behave and I will change  every single diaper if you want “  in his typical Mulder humor  ….

 

Scully lets out a real smile for the first time…she is so in love with this man… she feels a small tingling inside her body that stars building a fire in her stomach and sends waves of heat through her body, warming her up ,she looks at his hazel eyes and suddenly … his love, his hope hits her…like a train on a track  “Mulder. I… have never wanted something so much for both of us…. please help me to hope, to believe… I don’t think I can do this alone “

“Always Scully” … he says… they look at each other talking trough their eyes... and they kiss …a warm and slow kiss that let their bodies do the talk. Here... now with this kiss they close this commitment, they had been building this moment since years ago and now they have  all their love packed in a tiny little bundle in Scully’s  womb… this baby represents  the most  undying and greatest  love that anyone of them has ever had …this is who they are  now , life is giving them this present and with open arms they decided to take it.

Their kiss ends and forehead to forehead they breathe, take it all in, slowly they open their eyes and   smile to each other Scully gives him a whispered “I love you “ Mulder   tucks a hair behind her ear  “ I love you so much Dana” after a while  Mulder stands up   tugs at her hand   and turns them both   to leave.. He turns briefly to the altar before they go and in a voice inaudible to Scully he whispers “I will make it right this time  I promise”  to whoever is listening..

Scully walks with him to the gate hand in hand, leaving behind the darkness of the church and emerge into the last rays of daylight, hearts at peace and minds set in their future.

Today they have chosen this path, one that won’t be walked alone or in the shadows anymore

#x files fanfic #mulder x scully #x files revival #mulder and scully

[thursdayinspace]

someday I'll make a post about why I like the revival -- not the myth arc, not every episode, but their relationship arc. I don't think I'll be able to wait with that until I get to that point in the rewatch. I'm being plagued by revival feelings lately. the only cure is usually writing about it.

#x files revival #it's either that or more fic

[down-therabbit-hole]

THE wig

#gillian anderson #dana scully #x files #x files revival #s11 press

[agent-troi]

It doesn't make much sense to me that the revival claimed that the aliens changed their minds about colonization because of global warming/climate change. I mean, I get where they were coming from, but the aliens left earth originally because of the impending ice age, which they presumably didn't have the technology to counteract at the time. Are you seriously telling me that in the tens of thousands of years that have elapsed since then, with all of their evolution and technological advancement, that they haven't developed any way to reverse climate damage or terraform shit or basically just modify weather patterns for their benefit? Idk it just doesn't seem believable to me and it seems more like a cop-out so the writers didn't have to figure out what the alien invasion would actually look like. What would've made more sense to me is for the alien rebels, who were against colonization, to overthrow the colonists' establishment government and the resulting change in power leads them to not go through with colonization because the people in charge are now anti-colonization, so the date that was originally set for it to happen comes and goes and nothing happens because the project was canceled. I still would've rather seen the alien invasion actually happen, but at least that idea makes a little more sense for why it didn't happen.

#x files #x files revival #rambling thoughts #aliens

[goodshipsmulder]

The Tide

Post episode fic for Home Again. Mulder's silence at the end scene bugged me so I made a headcanon out of it, as always ;) My first ever fanfic by the way, I shall try and tag correctly. ****

‘Of course we didn’t treat William like trash. Anything but. We did everything we could to protect him.’ I want to say this to her out loud but as with almost everything I’ve wanted to say to her today, the words get stuck in my throat, so all I can do is squeeze her shoulder as she leans into me and hope she knows.

I didn’t go to the funeral, and one week on I still feel like trash myself for not being there for her despite that being at Scully’s request. When we’d discussed it, she was worried I’d get into a fight with Bill again and I had to grudgingly admit, based off of the last time he and I tried to attend the same Scully family get together, that this was for the best. So we’d agreed I’d pick her up after the wake and the two of us would go down to the coast, to a favorite spot of her parents’, and sprinkle some of Margaret’s ashes into the sea there. Bill doesn’t like the sentiment of spreading ashes, claiming the spirit is more important than the body or something, and Charlie as usual couldn’t stick around.

She feels soft and light as she leans into me, and I can’t help but enjoy how tactile she’s been since her mom’s last days in the hospital. Trying not to enjoy her touch *too* much, I keep my gaze on the shoreline in the middle distance.

Ever since we started back on the X Files, I’ve felt this gradual shift as if we’re getting back to how things used to be between us. It hasn’t been a linear, progressive change – things never have been that way for us. No, more like the tide of the sea, slowly edging inwards, the waves crashing forward then drawing back across the sand, imperceptibly moving in. A look here, a touch there, then we back off into the realms of cordiality and professionalism. Back and forth, ebb and flow. Sometimes I feel that she’s close to coming home to me for good, other times I feel like we’re back to square one like when she was first assigned to work with me and we were still learning to trust each other. I hope it doesn’t take another 7 years for her to let me in again…but I can wait.

The breeze lifts a lock of her hair and it brushes against my cheek. Although I still hate fire, I have always loved how her hair looks like a burning beacon of light. Here in the dwindling light and starkness of the beach, it seems to glow even more in contrast. If our relationship is the tide of the sea, Scully herself is a lighthouse. She’s been there to guide me to safer waters so many times and I know she needs the same from me today.

I’m silently reflecting on the metaphor and whether I can extend it any further without it becoming cloying - considering whether she views me as a riptide, pulling her out into danger, or more as a weighty anchor, dragging her downward with me whenever my depression hit - when suddenly she says my name.

“I think I’m ready now,” she says, pulling away from me and picking up the urn containing her mother’s ashes. I rise, trying not to wince at the stiffness in my knees, and help her to stand. Her smart black heels aren’t really suited to the sand, so I have an excuse to offer her my arm to help steady her, and she takes it without hesitation. We make our way down the beach toward the old wooden jetty, up onto the creaking weathered boards and slowly out towards the edge where the water is surprisingly deep and laps gently against the beams beneath.

She’s clutching the urn to her chest and I can see she’s starting to tremble as she struggles with the clasp, so I lay my hand over hers and murmur “We can do this another time if you want…”

“No, no I want to do this today…I need to. It’s what she wanted.”

That’s her ‘I need to work now’ tone so I take my hand away and let her continue. She tips a small pool of ash onto the palm of her hand and tremulously holds it out over the water. I know she’s already given enough speeches at the funeral and the wake, and her voice is already breaking so I’m not surprised when she keeps it brief:

“Mom, here you go, back to Ahab like you wanted. Wherever you are now, there will always be a part of you in the sea, just like dad. And there will always be a part of you with me, too. Love you.”

She turns her hand and lets the ashes sprinkle down into the water, the sea foam gently swirling around them until they sink down away from view.

I’m still gazing at the water when I realise she’s holding out the urn to me. “I’d like you to do this too, Mulder,”

I nod and accept the small heap of ashes she pours into my palm. I hold my hand out over the water and pause. I kinda knew she’d want me to say a few words and I’d been unsure what to say, but I decided to freestyle it, true Mulder fashion.

“Margaret…I know after my mother died you always said I could call you Mom and I never did. I always wanted you to know that it wasn’t that I didn’t want to, just that you always felt like so much more to me than that word had ever meant to me…you showed me so much love and acceptance. Thank you. And thank you for raising Dana into the wonderful, feisty, beautiful person she is today…” I can feel Scully reaching out to touch my arm and I start to falter again. Never one for too much schmaltz, I try for a bit of levity, “and thanks for all that delicious food you made for me, especially your Irish Stew, and for making sure I ate a vegetable now and then. I’ll try and keep that up.” I smile to myself and tip the ashes into the water, somewhat less gracefully than Scully had.

We stand there quietly for a while, then Scully says in barely more than a whisper “When did mom cook for you?”

Shit. I forgot she didn’t know.

“Oh…yeah that was after…after you moved out. She came over one day out of the blue, said you hadn’t mentioned seeing me in a while and she was getting worried about me. She noticed I was looking a little rough and I think she clocked the takeout containers in the kitchen. She came over again the next day with a big bag full of Tupperware homemade frozen dinners and a freshly baked lasagne. And then she came back a week later with more, to make sure I’d eaten.”

Scully lets out a tiny broken chuckle “That is so typically Mom,”

“Yeah, it happened a couple of times, actually. Just whilst you were…” I cut myself off, chiding myself for mentioning the breakup. “She was a very giving person, your mom.”

She reaches out and cups my cheek with her hand, her bottom lip quivering.

“I’m sorry I abandoned you like that, Fox. I should have checked in on you more,”

“It’s OK,” I shrug off the repeated use of my first name. “I was a difficult person to be around back then,”

“So was I…”

I scoff at the notion quietly, shaking my head. She pulls me in for a hug and I breathe her in, her perfume mingling with the faint smell of whiskey on her breath from the bottle she’d shared with her brothers that morning.

The breeze starts to pick up and I feel her shiver.

“It’s getting late. Want me to drive you back to your apartment now?”

She starts to say yes then changes her mind. “Actually…let’s go back to the house together. If we stop by the market on the way I can grab a few things…maybe make you some of Mom’s stew? I’m pretty sure I remember the recipe,”

I’ve gotten better at meal planning lately, and she’ll probably be pleasantly surprised by the current contents of my fridge, but I can’t remember the last time we sat down for a home cooked meal together and can’t help but feel a flush of excitement at the thought of her coming home, if only for a few hours.

“Sounds good,” I say, turning to look back to the shore.

“I think the tide’s coming in…”

I turn back to her and smile, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Yeah…I think it is.”

#x files #the x files #home again #s10e04 #mulder x scully #fox mulder #dana scully #x files revival #margaret scully #mild angst #after the funeral #fanfic #x files fanfic #death mention tw

[freckleslikestars]

Dana Katherine Scully being ethereal in Founder's Mutation

THE X FILES | 10.02

#revival scully needs a fuckin hug okay #I mean look at her #txf #x files #msr #the x files #txfedit #my gifs #xf gifs #GA gifs #cinematv #filmtvcentral #chewieblog #smallscreensource #usercreate #userthing #dana scully #dailytvwomen #popcultureds #mediagifs #usertvfilm #tvedit #tvcentric #tvfilmsource #televisiongifs #gillian anderson #founder's mutation #xf revival

[bisexualfbiagents]

Well, it's good to see you got all your personal devices back. Not all of them.

THE X FILES GIF MEME [9/20] EPISODES Rm9sbG93ZXJz (11.07)

#the x files #txf #dailytxf #txfedit #xfilesnet #fox mulder #dana scully #txfmeme #memeepisodes #Rm9sbG93ZXJz #11x07 #mine #kallypsos #usersilene #my silly goofy s11 pick!! #yeah it makes no sense but tbh this ep gave me everything i wanted from the revival #domestic msr hangin out and gettin into situations together #great episode for the vibes #didn't intend to make a rainbow but here we are!

[randomfoggytiger]

Collector's Edition: Reviving that Love

Let's have an assortment of mature, (mostly) fluffy, coupley Revival fics, shall we?

This list only scratches the surface; but hopefully it's enough to soothe a particular itch.

**Note**: Another Revival list I've done is Beefy Revival Mulder (and Other Muscular Mentions)-- perfect pairing to this, I believe.

Loose chronological order below~

@oohnotvery/the_eternal_optimist's Always Wanted

But he has a key to her place, because they’ve always had keys to the other’s place, even in horrible times. It arrived in the mail one day, sealed tightly in a bubble-wrapped envelope, addressed from her to him with a handwritten note that he hadn’t even bothered to read before crushing it up in a ball and tossing it into the trash can. Several hours later, in a fit of frustration, he had fished the note out of the trash and shoved it, unread, into a kitchen drawer.

Breakup Mulder realizes Scully has been waiting for him.

@aloysiavirgata’s (Ao3, WBM, Gossamer, LJ, Alt. LJ)

Si Hoc Legere Potes, Liberaliter Educatus

"It was very important to Deputy Director Skinner that you two meet with me. He felt that you needed some guidance before you could resume any kind of professional partnership."

I grit my teeth. You're a dead man, Skinner. 

S10 Mulder and Scully run laps around the FBI recruitment therapist.

I need a fic with Scully's stolen dog Dagoo, and her wearing a Knicks tshirt.

“This is the one I ripped a piece off of for Boggs, Scully. This isn’t just my Knicks shirt. This is my favorite Knicks shirt. I’ve been looking for it!”

She pulls Tesla closer. “Stop violating the fourth amendment, Agent.”

“Stop violating the eighth commandment, Doctor.”

Post The Weremonster Mulder and Scully debate dog names and Knicks T-shirts.

What's your Mulder and Scully Thanksgiving sex headcanon?

"I'm going to die," she mumbles, her eyes half-lidded in tryptophanic stupor.

Mulder and Scully are stuffed after dinner.

@flukemen?/@pinebluffvariants/scienceandmysticism/contradictiontonature's (Ao3) Tie (prompt #1)

“Hello?”

“You know it’s me.” He did. “What are you doing?”

“I’m shopping. And I hope you’re using your bluetooth.” He could tell she was driving from the white noise over the sound of her breathing.

Mulder uses Scully's expertise to pick out a tie.

@hemisphaeric's (Ao3)

"Mulder you need new clothes"

The next day they decided to go into town and do some shopping, after Scully had had to tell Mulder for the tenth time he needed clothes and that no, he couldn’t wear those old ones just to seduce her.

Scully helps Mulder pick out new suits for his new job.

Let me carry some of the pain for you

Suddenly warm hands were touching him but he didn’t react. He couldn’t react, feeling so distant from everything. Scully was speaking, he recognized her voice, but not her words, those were like a white noise in the back of his head, which was so loudly screaming.

“I am better Scully, for real” he didn’t realize he had started talking at first, but he couldn’t stop, tears fogging up his vision.

Mulder panics, thinking Scully will leave him again.

touch.

Things had changed again in the last period though, she had come home; she had been spending time there with him more and more frequently. He understood her necessity to take things slowly, to test the territory before diving in head first, but he felt ready for it.

Mulder is glad to have Scully back.

Mulder, Scully and Elon Musk

She pushed him away and swatted at his arm. “You woke me up early to talk about Elon Musk??”

Mulder wakes Scully early for Elon's rocket news.

grumpysimon's Morse Code

He asks you for a pen. The genius always loses things. Your coffee comes and he spills a little on the napkin. He taps on the table. Morse code, maybe. You’re too tired to figure out what he’s saying to you in secret. You say his name and that smile is more crooked than ever.

Scully secretly loves Mulder's obsessive passion.

@baronessblixen/Baroness_Blixen's

Belong

He closes his eyes and counts. What will it be, he wonders. The sound of a car or their creaky door?

Another minute passes before he hears the soft squeak behind him.

Mulder tells Scully he's "done okay without her."

A few months after they're back on the x-files, Mulder's notices that his neck and shoulders are sore.

Mulder feels better and promises - with a wink - to do the same for her, she just needs to ask. She doesn't ask but Mulder knows her feet are sore a few days later, after hours of walking around. He silently starts massaging her feet while consorting in his hotel room, half-empty take-out containers on the bed next to them....

Mulder doesn't replace his chair-- which is just fine, because Scully becomes his masseuse.

Mulder giving Scully a foot massage

“Exactly. My feet hurt and I need a break. I’m not…” She trails off again as she massages her foot. 

“Not young anymore?” Mulder offers and her head shoots up like a rocket, her eyes shooting daggers. 

“Not used to it anymore.”

Post Ghoulie Scully's high heels finally catch up to her.

There's No Place Like Home (Ao3)

He loves her stubbornness. Once, she told him that she fell in love with him because he was stubborn. Well. That was the pot calling the kettle black. No one is as stubborn as his Scully. 

AU-- Nothing Lasts Forever Mulder brings an injured Scully home.

Growing Old (with You) (Ao3)

“Just wait til you’re my age,” he jokes.

“55 looks good on you.” She proves her point with a kiss on his nose. “I can only hope to look as good as you when I turn 55.”

“You will. And I will remind you of it. If I’m invited to your birthday, that is.”

“You’re always invited to my birthday.”

Scully drops in for Mulder's 55th, assuring him his aging concerns are overblown.

A Study in Chemistry

"I didn't know you cared for this kind of movie, Scully." Mulder, sprawling on her bed, in her motel room, looks slightly disgusted at the small screen where two generic actors share a truly boring, less than passionate kiss in a typical, cheesy Hallmark Christmas movie.

"I don't," she says, returning her attention to the case report they're supposed to be working on. Despite his words, Mulder's eyes are glued to the movie and Scully can't help but smile.

Mulder and Scully bridge the gap between them-- and all because of Hallmark and memories.

Surprises Are Best Served Ice-Cold - Chapter 1

They both start towards each other at the same time, laughing.

“Mulder, I don’t remember how to stop,” she says, trying to get her skates under control.

“I’ve got you,” he says calmly and she hopes he’s right because she loses her balance, stumbles the last few steps towards him and crashes right into his chest, knocking him to the ground.

Mulder surprises Scully with a frozen over lake for Christmas.

A Day in May (Ao3)

Mulder puts on cheesy Christmas music and turns down the lights, creating a mood. They share a cup of sugary hot cocoa with mini marshmallows and whipped cream. When Scully raises her eyebrows at the cream, Mulder dips a finger in and deposits a blob on her nose.

“Live a little, Scully.”

And she does.

Mulder forgoes sleep to help Scully decorate their tree on Christmas Eve.

Night Out

"I can't breathe." Mulder is pouting. She wants to be angry with him - all of this is his own fault, after all - but he looks so miserable and yet so adorable that she feels sympathetic. She strokes his cheek and smiles at him.

"I'll make you make some soup."

"Are you sure I'm not dying?" he asks again, coughing. She offers him some tea and he sips it noisily.

Mulder gets sick after a night of Squatchin.

@wtfmulder/@momdadimpoppunk​‘s (Ao3) 

post-Plus One

“You reasoned your doppelgänger out of existence,” he says flatly. She smiles against his bare shoulder, nodding.

“She was a very reasonable woman.”

He laughs softly, the rumble of it caressing her cheek. 

Post Plus One Mulder and Scully catch a few winks.

ficlet; twenty-six years

On her side of the desk, he has procured for her a plain blue baseball cap, a skinny caramel macchiato, and a not-skinny blueberry muffin.

She sits down as he hums and types away at something, taking a bite of the muffin and putting the cap on her head.

Scully always guesses which anniversary Mulder is celebrating.

fluff 🤢

They’re packing up the basement just one last time. They both learned early in life that saying goodbye is so much easier when it’s a choice, and the moment holds no bitterness, no fear.

Post Revival Scully finds flowers she'd once given Mulder in their basement office.

@myassbrokethefall's untitled rm9sbg93zxjz post-ep

Scully had chanced to see a picture of a blobfish on the internet some months ago and he wasn't sure he had ever, in their years and years together, seen her laugh so hard. It was one of the best things that had ever happened to him, frankly, watching the outsizedly hysterical reaction of Dana Scully MD, his serious scientist partner, to a picture of a lumpy, slimy, theatrically frowning fish on the internet. He had brought it up at every opportunity for weeks, renamed the wireless network at the house Blobfish Cove, found a way to work a reference to it into a meeting with Skinner, once printed out a picture of it and left it on Scully’s pillow, and watched in utter delight as she got the helpless giggles every single time. (Even the Skinner time. He hadn't even asked, just looked wearily at some point behind their heads for a few seconds before sighing and continuing on.)

AU-- Robot episode Mulder dreamed up the whole thing.

@onpaperfirst's (Ao3) Honey Hi

The doors slid open and Mulder wrangled a cart from the corral.

“They set up the little rooms and it makes you feel like you’re at home,” she said. “It dulls your senses. You forget you’re in public. And all of a sudden you’re in the middle of a fight about which rug matches the couch.”

“Let’s not fight in Ikea, Scully. It’s so bourgeois.”

Part II to Home, Home, Mulder and Scully's romantic life is examined through the lens of perfectly balanced humor... and their IKEA trip.

@ghostbustermelanieking's (Ao3) bearing north (Ao3)

“The cops out front will stop him,” Mulder says comfortingly.

She nods. Her skull is still pounding, but she feels limp in his arms, safe. “I tried to fight him off,” she says. “I almost did. But he got angry and shoved me into the pool. I hit my head.”

Mulder takes Scully home after she's injured while pursuing a perp.

"You’re beautiful, you know that?” (Ao3)

She turns her eyes up to meet his, burning blue eyes in the night. “You’re… all I have left now, Mulder.” Names are left unsaid between them, but they all register in his brain, like a knife. “I think my leaving was for the best, but I’m ready to come back. You’re my family, Mulder.”

Scully proposes to her Mulder.

@settle-down-frohike's Headcanon: It started after her first disappearance, on a flight to nowhere North Dakota.

It started after her first disappearance, on a flight to nowhere North Dakota. She was flipping through a dossier and he was dozing, as per usual. She heard a mumbled version of her name and threw a distracted “Hm?” his way without glancing up. “Scully.” Firmer, more forceful this time. She looked over, annoyed, and spat “What Mu-“ and realized he was still asleep, but fitfully so.

My Struggle II Scully hopes she can comfort Mulder once more.

@lilydalexf/LilydaleXF 's My Andromeda

He looks back at the road and answers honestly, "I didn't watch many shows. The ones I really wanted to see I wasn't allowed to watch. Except after excessive begging."

"And on nights you could successfully sneak into the TV room after your parents fell asleep." It's a statement, not a question.

"You know me so well, Scully."

Mulder and Scully imagine a night of stargazing.

Eternity Awaits

"Mulder…. We need to go to bed."

"You don't want to freeze together?"

"Not on this decrepit couch I don't."

Post This Mulder and Scully discuss their eternal conversations.

Apostrophic/@mappingthexfiles's

This

Mulder said Push a third time and they both groaned with the effort of heaving the massive piece another three feet, barricading it firmly against the bedroom door.

“What does this,” he gasped, “remind you of?”

Scully, drawing in deep gulps of air, pushed herself up on her elbows, propped on the edge of the chest. She did not say the fleeting thought that had gone through her head: maybe it was not a bad thing Mulder had not been present at the birth of their child.

“Um,” Scully said.

“Yeah,” Mulder said. Panting out, “Towers of furniture.”

Post This Mulder and Scully move their furniture back into place.

The Scully Treehouse of Horror

The automatic taps don’t turn on and off for him. He’s invisible to its sensors. The alarm, on the other hand, blares every time he walks in the door. Sometimes, even, once he’s inside the door and has been for some time. He’ll get up at night for a drink of water and Scully gets jarred out of postcoital bliss by the klaxon siren of intruder alert, intruder alert, Mulder cursing at the sink in the kitchen, yelling for Scully....

If she yells back for him to punch in the code, he does the wrong birthdate or botches the spelling of Queequeg. More often than not, she pads out in bare feet, tying her robe, entering the right code, filling the glass with cold water, sleepily herding a grumbling Mulder back to the warm bed.

Scully's house hates Mulder; and she loves him all the more for it.

Lapsed_Scholar's Wake-Up Calls

On their way into work, his phone rings. It’s just a wrong number, and the other commuters don’t really take any notice, but Scully arches her eyebrow.

At her questioning look, “Do you recognize this theme?”

“Vaguely. Should I?”

“It’s our theme song, Scully! And I think it suits us. Kind of spooky.” A beat. “Don’t you remember our movie?”

If possible, her eyebrow climbs higher.

Mulder always ratted he and Scully out to people-- and still does now, years and years later.

@slippinmickeys/SlippinMickeys's

Prompt: ballet slippers, chocolate pudding in a can, Wyoming

It was like a Carlton Varney fever dream; like a brothel with aspirations. Mulder actually paused in the doorway and leaned back out to double check the address number on the side of the house.

“Wow,” Scully said, daintily setting down her suitcase a few feet inside the door. She wanted to make a joke, but Mulder looked appalled.

Mulder books a truly terrible vacation spot.

Prompt Drabble Collection - Chapter 12

“I want something I can’t make.”

It was Day 18 of self-isolation and if you looked at quarantine like the stages of grief, they had rolled easily past panic and guilt, skipped loneliness altogether and were deep in the grip of isolation.

Scully shot him a look.

Mulder and Scully are sick and tired of COVID quarantine.

Prompt: Mulder & Scully vacation Christmas/Hanukah at the Quonochontaug cabin post season 11

“When was the last time you stayed here?” she asked, wrinkling her sensitive nose at the smell of dust, of mildew.

One suitcase on the floor at his feet, one still in his hand, Mulder closed the door behind him, his face ponderous. “Overnight?” he clarified. “I think I was nineteen?”

Post Revival Mulder and Scully spend the New Years in the old Mulder summer home.

outsquatchin94's Joy to You and Me

“Those hipsters… But Scully, that was such a look. Also, I hate to break this to you, but I’m quite sure it’s in the back spare room somewhere in a box.”

For a moment, he thinks she’ll spring off the couch and go find the offending object. She doesn’t though, she only smiles a little.

“I think we turned out okay in the end, even without the sleeping bags.” And Mulder has to agree with her.

Mulder and Scully discuss her old jacket.

@msrafterdark/msrafterdark's A concept : slow dancing on an ill lit front porch late in the evening while it’s thundering and maybe just starting to rain?

When they’re like this again, as though no time has passed, the pleasure of the familiarity is so good it almost hurts her. To have him well again, to be safe and wanted and in his arms is only made sweeter by the fact that the knocks and falls they have taken ultimately only made them stronger.

Mulder and Scully, the Unremarkable House and dancing.

@tofuttim's Comfort and Chaos (Ao3)

The rain pelted relentlessly against the windows of the small cabin. The night air was cold, but inside the cabin, a fire and a shared bed with Mulder kept her warm. The sound of the storm thrusted her thoughts back to the beginning. 

The beginning of forever.

Scully asks Mulder what he remembers about their first case.

@defnotmeyo's (Ao3) The Cost of Living is Just Right

The beds are wrapped in white and light grey sheets with sky blue pillow cases on the spare pillows. The tables all look like something you would have seen on the Jetsons.  

It takes a bit of time for Mulder to feel comfortable at Scully's apt.

Ingot Silver

“Birthday time, huh? We could go uh,” he licked some sauce off his finger as he moved a dish over to the sink, “we could go squatchin’.” He turned and winked at her.

Mulder learned plans an evening dinner for he and his Scully.

the “before i even needed glasses” line

Then, on days he doesn’t hate himself (and those days are multiplying and growing closer together all the time), he remembers he has a son, healthy and alive. He has the love of his life and while she’s not home yet, her toothbrush is back in his bathroom.

Post Cathedral episode Mulder isn't letting his homie get away ever again.

It really looks like Mulder when youre seeing two of everything.

“Mulder… you… you hurled a raccoon down our stairs.”

He shrugs, sheepish as ever.

“Like… you hurled him.”

“It was for Daggoo!”

A raccoon holds the Mulder-Scully household hostage.

I always laugh at that bit in detour where mulder is like “if ur lucky u get seventy-five (75) yrs. if ur rly lucky u get eighty

She refrains from rolling her eyes, instead slides in front of him and slinks an arm around him, patting that soft of his oblique threatening to turn into a love handle.

“Charlie has a decent head of hair,” Mulder mumbles.

“Charlie is four years younger. And you made it passed 50, Mulder. You won.”

Scully reassures Mulder he still looks gooooooooood.

BONUS (HAD TO INCLUDE THESE FOR THE MSR)

@monikafilefan/MonikaFileFan's

Language of Love: Prompts of Angst and Romance - Chapter 6

A sudden rise in emotion crests in her throat when she sees the wondrous look of awe and admiration seize the love of her life.

It’s the exact look she saw grace is face eighteen years ago.

“Mulder…” she whispers, raking her fingers through his silky hair as he grins up at her with a trembling chin.

Post Revival Mulder feels his baby move during the witching hour.

39 and 82 from the prompt list 😁/Just Breathe

“She’s here and she’s beautiful, honey, she’s just—”

“What, Mulder?” Scully shot up onto her elbows with her heart in her throat. “She’s just what?”

“It’s fine. She’s fine, Scully. She just looks like a he.”

Her jaw dropped. “What are you—are you sure?” Their slippery, pink baby covered in layers of vernix and blood mewled in protest as Mulder lifted the tiny bundle away from the comfort of his warm chest and pointed wide-eyed between its legs.

Mulder and Scully and unexpectedly fast Halloween baby makes a chaotically competent three.

RoseThornhill's

Spooky Mulder: The Revenge

Excited dad!Mulder wants a spooky theme for his Halloween daughter's name.

Alice is a Punk Rocker

Mulder, Scully, and their Halloween baby are happy together, despite a few bumpy patches.

@myownsuperintendent/MyOwnSuperintendent’s Renewal

She tries to shift in the bed, to touch him too, and he stops and pulls back.  “Don’t try to sit up,” he says.  “They made me promise I wouldn’t disturb you.”  He’s trying to smile at her through the tears in his eyes.  “You’re all right,” he repeats.  “Please don’t scare me like that again.  Not ever again.”

Post Revival Scully loses a lot of blood during delivery, which helps convince Jackson to stay with his family and new sister a bit longer.

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

#txf #fic #Collector's Edition #Reviving that Love #outsquatchin94 #lilydalexf #onpaperfirst #sigritandtheelves #DarlaBlack #monikafilefan #RoseThornhill #oohnotvery #the_eternal_optimist #settle-down-frohike #myownsuperintendent #hemisphaeric #wtmulder #aloysiavirgata #defnotmeyo #slippinmickeys #baronessblixen #xfiles #x-files #the x files #xf fanfic #Revival #Mulder #Scully #MSR

[cecilysass]

Shine On (16/16)

Read on AO3 | Tagging @today-in-fic

Chapter 16: Crazy Diamond

Farrs Corner, Virginia February 25, 2015 Two hours later

It turns out that Bunny Man Bridge is just a bridge. And okay, it’s a little creepy-looking—a one lane road going into a yellowed concrete tunnel under a train overpass—but not very eventful on a sunny, late winter afternoon. There aren’t signs of apparitions, dead bodies, or even Satanic graffiti. Which Jackson finds kind of disappointing after all Mulder’s talk.

Mulder drones on about the telltale hallmarks of paranormal activity, but since most of them would have involved interviewing human witnesses, they don’t seem very promising to investigate. There’s no one around but Jackson, Mulder, and Scully. And interested squirrels.

Still, Jackson is enjoying the outing. He and Mulder scramble up to the top of the bridge and look around the railroad tracks for any clues. Scully watches from the road below, leaning against the car, smirking to herself. After a few minutes Mulder begins to call for the Bunny Man like a lost dog— “here, Mr. Bunny Man, come on, boy”—which makes Scully cover her mouth with her hand and laugh.

Mulder looks down from the bridge at her with this goofy little smile, a whole lot like he’s an eighth grader pleased with himself. Jackson tries hard not to shine the man’s mind, as he’s thinking a surprising quantity of inappropriate thoughts for an old guy.

He gets the basic gist, though—the important highlights. They’re back together.

Jackson can’t help but feel happy for them. Mulder’s hope is contagious. It’s everywhere in the man’s mind right now, even in the dirty parts. It’s inescapable, Mulder’s hope. Like an annoying mylar balloon that keeps floating into your face. Even shining him a little makes Jackson’s own emotions begin to feel lighter, too.

“Is the investigation over?” Scully calls up to them. “I’m hungry.” She cocks her head strategically. “We could go pick up fresh bagels.”

Jackson raises his eyebrows. “I could eat.”

“I think we’re just about wrapped up here,” Mulder calls back. “It’s going to be kind of a drive for bagels though. We’re in the country, Scully.”

She shrugs and smiles. From her pocket her phone starts to buzz, and she rushes to pull it out, sliding into the car to take the call. As Jackson understands it, she’s finishing up odds and ends of her hospital job before she goes back to the FBI.

Mulder regards Jackson seriously. “I’ve got to tell you, Jackson—I’m not noticing any classic signs,” he says, gesturing around them. “No change in temperature, no strange odor.” He points to the birds chirping in the trees around them. “I still hear local wildlife going strong.”

“Yeah,” Jackson says with a sigh. “Maybe the Bunny Man really does only show up on Halloween.”

Mulder’s eyes light up. “Well, possibly we could come back—” He stops himself, but it’s too late. Jackson knows exactly what he was going to say, and he knows exactly why he stopped.

They don’t know where Jackson will be at Halloween. That’s eight months away. He could very well be locked in a juvenile justice facility. That reality hasn’t gone away, however much Mulder and Jackson want to forget and play ghost hunter. Everyone keeps acting like Jackson is just going to stay here and play pretend son, but that’s just not the case.

Jackson has to turn away from Mulder now. Sometimes other people’s hope is painful.

They have to be careful on the way down; the embankment down the side of the bridge is steep. Jackson’s feet, skidding out of control, stumble the last few steps down, and Mulder grabs his arm to steady him.

“You okay there?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Jackson mumbles.

Mulder’s thoughts are a burgeoning swell of concern, and Jackson knows he’s probably been doing a little shining. “Listen, Jackson—”

“You’ve actually seen ghosts before, right?” Jackson interrupts. He looks around at the wooded area around the bridge, then back at Mulder. “Not just read about them?”

Mulder considers him a moment. “I have, yes.”

“Who were the ghosts?” Jackson asks.

“The ghosts themselves? You mean in life?”

“Yeah. Did you know them?”

Mulder thinks about his answer. “One time it was a couple,” he says. “A couple who died together on Christmas.”

Jackson thinks about that for a moment, a couple who died together and spent eternity together, too. It seems like that might be good. Not entirely unhappy. He gets little visual flashes from Mulder’s memories, but he pushes them out—he’d rather make up his own little story about these ghosts.

“You never met the ghost of anyone you knew when they were alive?” Jackson asks. He hesitates. “Like … your own parents, maybe?”

Mulder’s head turns sharply to him. His gray-green eyes are sorrowful, then shift infinitesimally into sympathy and pity.

“Jackson,” he says, his words subdued, “you won’t get your parents back by searching for ghosts.”

A bird trills nearby, and Jackson’s gaze follows the sound. “Yeah,” he says.

His eyes again fill with tears. This is one of those things he knows he should know better about. Something he can see is a delusion—an idea gullible kids hold on to— but he wants to believe anyway. He wants to think that one day he might see his mom and dad again. How stupid, to imagine friendly ghosts who might pat him reassuringly on the shoulder and tell him it’s okay.

They both stand facing the steep bank of trees, saying nothing.

A very clear sentence runs through Mulder’s mind. If he were staying with us, I would make sure he got a new therapist.

Jackson can’t help but smile, wiping his tears. “If I were staying with you, I’d probably really need one.”

“Yeah.” Mulder snorts a laugh. “You probably would.”

***

Back in the car, Scully is sitting in the driver’s seat, unmoving, waiting for them. The radio is on, turned down very low, a murmur of voices.

“No ghosts,” Jackson informs her as he slides in the back. “Mulder says we can try Gadsby Tavern in Alexandria next time.”

“You all done with your call?” Mulder asks her, giving her a curious look. “Was it the hospital?”

“It wasn’t.” Scully says in a strange voice. “It was Skinner. He had news.”

“Oh yeah? What kind of news?”

“There’s been new evidence in the Van De Kamps’ case. Apparently a … witness remembers seeing a man wanted in Colorado in the neighborhood that morning, leaving the scene.”

“What?” Jackson inhales.

“The charges against Jackson have been dropped. He’s considered a missing child now. The Rawlins police are having a press conference, so it will be hitting the media today at some point.”

“A witness emerges from nowhere?” Mulder asks.

“Yes,” Scully says, and Jackson watches her eyes latch on to his. “And Skinner says the name of this witness has been strangely hard to come by, even for the Bureau.”

“This is good news though,” Jackson insists. “Right? It means I’m free. It’s good.”

He looks from Scully to Mulder. They both turn to him in the backseat, their faces blooming in simultaneous smiles. They’re both holding something back, but they’re not insincere.

“It is, Jackson,” Scully agrees. “You’re right. It means you have a lot more options.” He senses her worry simmering underneath. Something wrong here. Another shoe about to drop.

“Maybe I can call people now,” Jackson says, his eyes darting hesitantly between them. “My friend Louis. Maybe my uncle Wyatt.”

“Probably very soon,” Mulder says, nodding. “I’d like to wait until we know … just a little more.”

“You’re both worried,” Jackson observes softly. “You think something is weird.”

There’s a silence in the car as Scully starts the engine.

“We’re cautious,” Mulder says. “Happy, but cautious.”

***

When they get home from their bagel pick up—and Mulder was right, it was kind of a drive to get to the place with good bagels—Jackson is washing his hands in the kitchen when he feels Rose’s tiny nudge into his mind.

Apparently she’s back at home now, wherever that is. She tells him to pass on some messages. He’s happy to hear from her. He badly wants to tell her his good news, but he thinks about what Mulder and Scully said, and he decides to wait a little.

Jackson can hear Mulder talking on the phone outside. Actually, he is apparently taking a break from talking to whoever is on the line to discuss something back and forth very animatedly with Scully. Neither one of them really holds back their opinion, he’s noticed.

He’s started to put together a few more pieces about them. For one, he’s been curious about how Mulder pays his bills. Jackson’s parents always were very careful about money—clipping coupons, thinking through monthly budgets—but Mulder thinks about money much less than most adults.

Jackson knows that Scully is a doctor, and Jackson understands that doctors make high salaries, which explains her nice car and nice clothes. But Mulder hasn’t seemed to have a regular job for years, and Jackson doesn’t think FBI agents make enough to retire decades early.

When they came home with their dozen bagels, Mulder and Scully went to call this lawyer right away, both of them very determined. From what Jackson can gather, it seems to be a lawyer associated with Mulder’s family. So, Jackson infers, Mulder comes from some kind of family money. He wonders why Mulder doesn’t use it to buy a fancier house or car.

As he selects another bagel, he wonders about Mulder’s family. Who were they? How did they get rich? He wonders about Scully’s family, too. What’s her mother like, the one who is still alive? He could probably ask them all of these questions now that he isn’t a wanted man. Maybe he could even meet the mysterious grandmother now.

Outside Mulder and Scully still seem deeply invested in talking to the lawyer, so Jackson plops down on the couch with his cinnamon raisin bagel.

Chewing silently, he remembers what Scully said about the media getting the story soon. He searches around for the remote and turns on Mulder’s TV, pressing buttons to find a news channel.

When he does, he can tell instantly: the story is public.

A blonde reporter clad in a bright blue coat stands on a snow-covered street in downtown Rawlins, with the words “New Development in Wyoming Murder Case: Police Apologize to Runaway Teen” sprawled underneath her. Jackson is so shocked to see the familiar storefronts of his hometown on the national news he can barely focus on the words.

“...police believe that the victims’ son fled out of fear, and they hope Jackson Van De Kamp will be found safely.”

One of the police officers who’d been at Jackson’s school that horrible day—Davis was his name, Jackson remembers—stands in front of a microphone, looking gray and stricken: “We admit when we make mistakes, and this was a mistake. Mr. Van De Kamp is innocent of all wrongdoing. In all likelihood, he’s a scared and grieving kid. If you can hear this, Jackson, buddy, we want you to come home.”

Jackson stares at the screen open-mouthed, clutching his half-eaten bagel tightly. The rest of the report seems to slide right past him.

“Was that it?” Scully says sharply from behind him. The news has moved on to something else. “Was that the story about you?”

“Yeah,” Jackson says, his voice sounding like a small boy’s.

Scully walks around and sits down next to him on the couch. She picks up the remote and switches the TV off.

She peers at his face. “Are you okay, Jackson?”

“I don’t know,” he says. “The police … uh, begged me … to come home. To Wyoming.”

Scully’s eyes are so wide, so icy blue—exactly like Rose’s. They run all over him, as if studiously taking in every detail.

“Do you want to go back?” she asks.

“I don’t know,” he repeats, blinking.

She picks up his plate off of the coffee table, offering it to him. He sets his bagel down on it dazedly. She replaces the plate on the table.

“You have some decisions to make, Jackson,” she says, her voice gentle. “Not all of them right away. But you do have some decisions to make.”

Mulder appears behind her, his hand reaching for her shoulder. He’s watching Jackson closely, too.

“We spoke to the lawyer about the … custody possibilities,” Scully says. Jackson recognizes suddenly that she’s very nervous. He can feel fear starting to roll off of her in steady waves. “It’s most likely a relative has official custody of you now. Probably your uncle Wyatt?”

Jackson nods slowly. He can’t think of who else would.

“We can talk to your uncle about other possibilities,” Scully says carefully. “Living with us. Short term … or longer term. There are a range of options in the kind of relationship you could have with us. You could just do visits. We could have some kind of shared custody. There’s, uh, more permanent arrangements. Like legal guardianship. Adoption.” She swallows. Her fear is pulsing around Jackson now like a heartbeat. “I don’t know how your uncle will feel about any of this, but we thought we’d check with you before pursuing anything else. We want you to be the one … in the driver’s seat.”

Jackson reaches out his hand to rest on her arm. He doesn’t want her to be so terrified. It’s stupid. Unnecessary. Of course he wants to live with them. She stills at his touch, her eyes widening.

“Yeah,” he says. “I want to see Uncle Wyatt—like, for visits. He’s family. But I’d like to stay here. If that’s possible, I mean.”

Scully seems unable to suppress her initial reaction: she bursts into a pink-cheeked smile; she exchanges a quick, amazed look with Mulder. Her hand covers Jackson’s, and he can feel her intentionally calming herself down. “We’re happy you feel like that, of course. But that was … a fast decision. Are you sure? You can think about it. All the time you need.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure.” He tries to make his own tone sound casual, breezy. “Uncle Wyatt has too many dogs and goes to a crazy church,” he says with a shrug. “And I don’t think he’ll argue with you too much if you say you want me to live here. I broke his big screen TV once, and he thinks I’m annoying.”

Jackson doesn’t say everything he’s thinking. That he would actually really like to see what it would be like to be part of their family. That he’d like to know what love felt like, everyday, with them. That he thinks it would be easy, somehow—much easier than he might have expected. That he thinks he understands now that this new relationship with them has nothing to do with replacing his parents.

Mulder’s smile is so wide that Jackson suspects he eavesdropped. “We’d love to have you, Jackson,” he says.

“We’ll talk to your uncle,” adds Scully. “We can be more specific about your options after that.”

“Rose said she could teach you more about how to block me, you know,” Jackson tells them tactfully. “So you wouldn’t have to worry as much about… not having privacy. You know.”

Scully flushes, and Mulder hides a smile. “That might be nice,” Scully says.

“She also said there was a really good STEM high school in Alexandria,” Jackson suggests with more feigned disinterest.

“Rose is full of advice,” Mulder observes wryly.

“Yep,” Jackson agrees. “I got a message from her, by the way.” He eyes the bagel on his plate again. “When you all first went in to call the lawyer.”

“Really?” Mulder says. “A … psychic message?”

“That sounds kind of overdramatic,” Jackson says, rolling his eyes and picking his bagel back up. “But yeah. She said she was home.”

“Good,” Scully says. “That’s good.” She throws Mulder a glance.

“She also said to tell you something, Scully.”

“She … did?”

“She said to tell you that they listened to her.” He looks at Scully to see if that’s meaningful, but her face looks blank. “Rose said that … she told them what she wanted, and they listened.”

He shrugs, deciding it doesn’t matter that much, and he takes a big bite of the bagel. Scully has a point about getting them fresh, he decides. They taste so much better this way. You could only get bagels in a bag at the grocery store in Rawlins.

A plummeting feeling from the pit of Scully’s stomach makes him look up.

“What?” Mulder asks her. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Scully’s face has lost color. “No. I just …”

“Who listened to her?” Mulder insists. “What does that message mean?”

“I asked her … if the Walled Garden leaders listened to her,” Scully says in a low voice. “If they respected her.”

Jackson swallows part of his bagel so he’s able to talk. Through a mouthful: “You think she asked the Walled Garden for something she wanted?”

Mulder stares at Jackson, and then turns back to Scully, his eyes widening. “You think she asked them for something she wanted,” he repeats in a low voice, realizing. “Oh wow.”

“This morning, she said she was going home to take care of something,” Scully whispers, her eyes on him.

Jackson swallows his last mouthful. “What?”

“So she goes home,” Mulder says in disbelief to Scully. “And within a few hours…”

“Is it possible, Mulder?”

Jackson finally gets it. “You think she asked the Walled Garden to make sure the charges were dropped against me. Don’t you?”

Scully and Mulder are still looking hard at one another. “It happened so fast,” Mulder says. “All in less than six hours. If it was really the machinations of the Walled Garden…”

“They have an alarming amount of power,” says Scully. “Over multiple entities of government. An amount of power comparable to…”

“The Syndicate.” Mulder sits next to them on the couch, puts his head in his hands. “Can this be true? I don’t know what to make of an organization like this. They’re not even… strictly human. But they may be involved in… it’s overwhelming.”

They don’t say anything for a moment, looking dazed. Jackson watches them both in profile, unsure what to say.

“What do we do, Scully?” Mulder says.

She looks away, towards the window. There are entire worlds—entire universes—in Scully’s eyes. Jackson feels weirdly like his shine is lost in something enormous.

“I guess it’s fortunate there’s an investigative unit of the FBI qualified to keep an eye on them,” Scully says slowly and resolutely at last.

She turns and picks up Mulder’s hand. He lifts his head out of his hands and meets her stare.

“And keep an eye on Rose, too?” Jackson says incredulously.

“Yeah,” agrees Mulder, a strange finality. “And keep an eye on Rose.”

A fierce undertow of worry from Scully. But is Rose on the right side? How could we convince her? What if Rose were involved with something fundamentally wrong? What about any other members of the Walled Garden Mulder might feel connected to?

They’re frighteningly powerful anxieties, and Jackson doesn’t even understand some of them. They’re shot through with the stinging, luminous heat of her love. But weirdly he doesn’t feel himself getting drawn into these anxieties right now, even though he’s prone to worrying himself.

It’s just the more overwhelming emotion coming at him right now is what’s coming from Mulder. This ridiculous hopefulness. Bigger and more buoyant than ever. It fills up, expands and crowds out all competing feelings.

Jackson isn’t sure if Mulder is essentially being like a gullible kid—if he wants to believe things that aren’t true just to comfort himself. If that’s true, he is much, much better at it than Jackson. Because every cell in his body seems to be singing the same song: somehow, this will be okay. Somehow, what's wrong is going to get better. Jackson decides Mulder feeling like this is a good thing, even if it's not an entirely logical or sane thing.

As Mulder draws Scully into his side, and suggests they watch his favorite movie—some old movie about space that Scully protests vehemently—Jackson notices the influence of Mulder’s hope beginning to work on her, too. She’s arguing back, but she’s starting to relax, too. She’s got this little smile on her lips. Her anxieties are receding, falling into the background.

Jackson pulls his knees up at his end of the couch and stops listening to their good-natured argument. He wonders how it would be received if he asked if his friend Louis could come visit some time. He has a brilliant idea about splashing red paint around the inside of the Bunny Man Bridge and freaking the shit out of Louis. It would be hilarious. Also, he’d just like to see Louis. He misses him.

Mulder and Scully want Jackson to be the tie-breaker in deciding the movie. They both look over and ask him, with curious faces, what he wants to watch.

He doesn’t hesitate. “Finding Nemo,” he suggests at once. “Or The Incredibles.”

“Aren’t those kid movies?” Mulder asks suspiciously.

“Not ... entirely,” Jackson says.

“What are they about, then?”

Jackson considers his answer a minute and lands upon the right words. “They’re about doing crazy shit for your family.”

He wins.

***

Y'all, thank you so much for reading. I’m truly grateful for all of your encouraging, supportive notes and tags. You have no idea what they mean.

#xfiles fanfic #the x files #x files fanfic #fox mulder #dana scully #x files #xf fanfic #msr #jackson van de kamp #x files revival

[soufflegirl]

the x-files revival may have its flaws, but it truly is a testament to mulder's love for scully. it's mulder not doing anything to win her back, not because he doesn't want to be with her, but because deep down he's convinced that he already ruined her life in so many ways and he sees that she's in a better place and wishes he could resent her for that, but he loves her too much and he can't. he loves her too much. it's mulder saying "i'm here" on the phone when her mom is dying and staying with her until the end, and after the end. he holds her, comforts her, and he lets her return to philly with him because he knows she needs to work her pain away. it's mulder saying "you're never just anything to me, scully", and slitting a man's throat because he's hurting her and he's just so fucking tired of risking losing her. it's mulder holding her at night when she can't sleep, and never pushing her for something she's not ready for. he lets her come back to him, slowly. into his bed, into his house. his heart, though, she never left. it's mulder staying by her side, listening. he's all ears. it's mulder keeping at bay his own pain and hopes over william's loss, because he doesn't want to feed her guilt and for once he needs to be the one down to the earth because he knows how much she's hoping, he knows how much her heart will break all over again. it's mulder waiting for her in the church, lighting candles and asking for miracles he doesn't even believe in. it doesn't matter, he believes in her. it's mulder saying that she's damn good at her job, and he's just so happy to have the chance to work with her again. chasing monsters and doing autopsies and looking where no one else is willing to look. with her. and coming home at night just to fall asleep on their couch, in their home, next to her. a house that was lonely and haunted for far too long. and in the end it's about her, it's about their son and finding him. it's about being a father, it's about changing his priorities because now he knows what matters the most to him. it's that he loves her too much.

#i love revival mulder guys #the x files #txf #revival #x files s10 #x files s11 #fox mulder #dana scully #msr

[teenie-xf]

Facebook memories is reminding me that s10 aired 8 years ago today 😳

#x files #revival #s10 #fox mulder #dana scully #david duchovny #gillian anderson

[unremarkablehouse]

Sexiest thing Scully has done is probably when she unashamedly checks Mulder out in the quarantine shower. I love that it’s like a green light for Mulder and he reciprocates the gesture (and then some!)

Sexiest thing Mulder has done is love Emily. He was willing to kill for a little girl he’d only met twice and when he was carrying her to the hospital, just adorable. Mulder has hot Dad DNA.

#the x files #fox mulder #txf #dana scully #msr #txf meta #I love reading everyone’s takes on this #revival had some pretty hot M&S moments