#‘what is it about mulder that keeps you coming back?’ ‘he’s mine.’

[carefulfears]

what are some of your favorite acting moments in the x files?

i may do a proper full list sometime in the future but one thing that i think about every single day of my life is mulder being scripted to cry in the beginning of memento mori and duchovny saying that a lot of actors “try to feel” but people don’t go through life trying to feel, they go through life trying not to feel. “we go through life trying not to cry.” and so he plays it as completely composed, “but struggling,” and it defines an arc.

because if scully tells mulder that she’s got incurable cancer and she is going to die and he says “i refuse to believe that” while crying, it projects to the audience that he already does. why break down over something you don’t think is going to happen? he says “i refuse to believe that” with a straight face, and eventually gets her to acquiesce and admit something that she knows isn’t true, that goes against literally everything in her as a scientist and a doctor and someone whose job is to tell him the truth, and says that maybe they’ll find a cure for her death sentence.

she meets him where he is, and they stay there, and every scene that follows that decision is so haunted by it. they don’t talk about it, they don’t accept it, she’s dying alone and he doesn’t believe.

there’s this really palpable and intense repression that i’ve written about in the past, that comes with the fact that they’re both lying. he does know what’s happening. he is completely capable of understanding. she does not think that he can save her. they both go through it alone, because of that initial refusal, and it doesn’t work if he reacts to that diagnosis with tears.

[deathsbestgirl]

txf mytharc: pilot

preface: what you can expect from this series of mine.

i’m likely going to talk about each mytharc episode in full (at least nearly). the point of this isn’t to focus on mulder and scully, but there will still be a lot about them. we mostly see the mytharc through their eyes, and their partnership & experiences are a major part of that (and i think at this point, it’s clear i never shut up about them!). so for those that don’t really care about the mytharc, you might still find things to enjoy. at the end of each post, i’ll do a little summary of episode connections. i’m doing this as i rewatch so i will not have watched the future episodes yet – so please forgive any mistakes in details! i’m also pairing this with reading myth x: one fan’s interpretation of the the x files mytharc, and i’ll include some pieces that helped me unravel certain things, or that i’m simply keeping in mind as i rewatch! but mostly, this is just me enjoying the show. it’s what i think about when i watch. if it’s not your cup of tea, i completely understand. i do welcome discussion, but i make no promises to engage. i’m just sharing my little thoughts on this show that i really, really love.

something i get caught up in every time i watch the pilot is what csm & the syndicate were thinking (specifically in regards to assigning scully to the x files with mulder — i will probably talk about this over & over).

in the pilot we don’t even know about the syndicate. we meet section chief blevins, and other men with no names. including csm, who doesn’t even speak. he stands there looking stressed and smoking, observing scully and listening intently to the whole exchange. at the beginning, it’s hard to imagine how deep this goes, how widespread the government conspiracy is and it’s what makes it so fun for me to go back. we have so much more information later on, and we can take it back when we rewatch. there are so many connections to be made and although a lot of it doesn’t line up perfectly, i think it’s way more in line than people say. for me, there are several reasons that fit in with the world of the x files. first, there are so many unreliable narrators, people dealing in lies and coverups, only letting mulder & scully and whomever see what they want them to see. they purposely feed certain beliefs, and stifle them at other times. csm’s goals are muddled: he wants mulder on his side, he’s trying to save the human race/shape it into his own creation. he pretends to be a chess master, but as he says in sixth extinction/amor fati: he is one man.

the pilot starts with a cold open, a young woman running through the woods in her pajamas. we see a male figure and a bright white light. next thing, the young woman is lying dead on the forest floor as a team documents the scene and tries to identify her. detective miles identifies here as karen swanson and walks away, as the other investigator shouts “it’s happening again, isn’t it?”

next we follow special agent dana scully into the hoover building and to blevins office. he peppers her with questions about her fbi experience, if she’s heard of fox mulder and the x files. she’s young and open and maybe a little too honest. every time i try to write about the pilot something i always end up writing: scully understood what these men wanted her to. i don’t think it’s what csm wanted, but it might be what the syndicate wanted. scully was expected to debunk the x files, and if she did, they would probably reward her with whatever promotion or job she wanted within the fbi (or better, recruit her to the syndicate?). but as will consistently happen, they underestimated her. i’m not sure any of these men could have predicted what her & mulder would come to mean to each other. i don't think they could grasp her honesty or goodness, her ethics & morals, her complex beliefs & sense of justice. they live in a world where everyone is selfish & cruel, where they do what is “necessary” or what they're ordered to, where people will always choose themselves above others, but that is not scully. and it isn’t mulder.

(aside that maybe isn’t necessarily relevant but the thought always pops into my mind: it’s very interesting to me that they have this meeting with her and just send her down to mulder’s office. there’s no meeting with mulder, scully and their superiors together. all of it strikes me as a punishment for mulder, and a test for scully. i really think there’s something of interest to them in scully’s background. scientist, medical doctor, navy captain’s daughter, semi practicing/lapsed catholic. in theory, she could have been a perfect fit for the syndicate. but i really think most of them lack an understanding of people, of humanity. they deal in the worst of humanity – and mulder & scully are the best of humanity.)

initially when i started this (my little notebook) i was going to focus on just csm. but lately, the mytharc has gripped me. i don’t typically rewatch those episodes, unless i’m watching the entire series or a season in full. or a specific arc (like the cancer arc of course). but i’ve been slowly watching the mytharc episodes and they all connect, intricately, weaving a complicated web of truths & untruths & half truths. it’s so detailed and convoluted and maybe confusing. and so i wanted to go piece by piece. as i’ve said before, i don’t think everything lines up perfectly, and it isn’t supposed to. this is a global conspiracy, we learn things as mulder & scully do. they are largely on the outside of it, trying to break in to expose the truth & hopefully dismantle it. they are continuously misled, misdirected, stonewalled. there are many different projects with experimental science developing different defenses/giruses/andmtidotes, with different goals. evidence destroyed or stolen, tampered with. they are manipulated and used and discarded and returned and nearly killed as the syndicate sees fit at the current time. but so many things connect back to the pilot. the writers may not have had a show bible, but they most certainly looked back to pick up different threads and carry them through.

after scully’s meeting, we follow her down into mulder’s basement office. scully knocks on the door, opens it when he responds and takes in the whole atmosphere. he jumps right into it, letting scully know he’s aware of what her assignment is, that he looked into her background, and starting in on the case. in mulder’s way, he starts testing scully too, and i think she passes every single one. even if she’s saying things he doesn’t really want to hear. at the least, she takes him seriously (enough) to give rebuttals and show she cares. i’m not sure mulder has ever distrusted a single soul, but at least scully earns it.

the few things we learn about the case, what makes it an x file: the marks on the girl’s back, the compound in the surrounding tissue, no clear cause of death. and the fact that there’s a string of these killings in bellefleur, oregon with similarities to other cases in shamrock, texas and sturgis, south dakota.

mulder poses two questions, the first:

maybe what you can explain to me is why it’s bureau policy to label these cases “unexplained phenomenon” and ignore them.

scully has no answer, but i do think this starts her mind rolling. right here she’s put on the path of radicalization, in her scully way. the second:

when convention and science offer us no answer, might we not finally turn to the fantastic as a plausibility?

and i think this moment sets up their roles. scully responds with “the girl obviously died of something. if it was natural causes, it’s plausible that there was something missed in the post-mortem. if she was murdered, it’s plausible there was a sloppy investigation. what i find fantastic is any notion that there are answers beyond the realm of science. the answers are there. you just have to know where to look.” mulder, the believer, turning to the fantastic. scully, the skeptic, turning to science. this is my favorite thing about them, it builds the way they communicate and is a huge part of building trust between them. it’s also a major part in how they get to know each other. it’s always been one of my favorite things about them. it’s built on listening, not just pushing their beliefs or agenda. they always incorporate what the other says – as in, scully tends to shape the science & investigation around his theories. it gives her a place to start and build from. and scully’s science refines mulder’s theories and gets them closer to the truth.

it very quickly becomes one of the ways they depend on each other, setting up expectations they don’t yet understand the implications of and will take them years to rewrite (still built on the trust blooming from this first scene).

as soon as they’re in oregon, even still on the plane, the weirdness starts. unexpected turbulence, radio interference, inhuman like corpse unburied, the metal implant in the nasal cavity. mulder isn’t surprised by the turbulence or radio static, he marks the spot with an x. scully is just confused and baffled by his behavior (i love it). during the autopsy, they’re a little combative. my favorite moment is when mulder tells her:

i’m not crazy, scully. i have the same doubts you do.

this is an important moment for scully. he cares what she thinks, and she does take him seriously. i think it’s easy to think that she doesn’t, she does dismiss his ideas initially. but she’s still following him, peppering him with questions. they talk it through every time, and that’s special. it only gets stronger.

when mulder lifts peggy o’dell’s shirt to find the marks on her back, scully is so angry (she’s afraid) and she storms out of the building – mulder immediately follows her. she doesn’t believe these are alien abductions, she doesn’t know yet what the marks are, what the experience is. she has questions and she wants answers, she wants the truth. scully doesn’t believe his theory of alien abductions, and he asks her “do you have a better explanation?” and this is the first time he directly asks what she thinks. to me, this is the scene that really determines their dynamic. what mulder takes from this conversation is scully really does want the truth, she cares. and that’s important. and scully asks: “what were they doing in the forest?” cut to mulder and scully in the forest, scully pocketing dirt, detective miles coming upon them. (he listened to her, and the next step in their investigation becomes trying to answer that question!)

in the car, she shows mulder the dirt. he asks if it’s a campfire (it does look a lot like ash). but scully tells him it was all over the ground. right after, the car loses power and they lose nine minutes. scully doesn’t witness the time change but mulder is ecstatic.

this all leads to the motel room scene. scully has marks on her back and she can’t see them and the marks on peggy o’dell scared her. you could see it in her face, even through her anger & annoyance with mulder. the fact that she goes running to mulder, clearly afraid and vulnerable…it showed something else to mulder. this moment lets him see beyond ‘scully’s a spy” and her disbelief/skepticism. mulder cares about people, and he cares about scully despite himself. so when she turns into his chest, he puts his arm on her shoulder. shocked at her vulnerability, the way she seeks comfort from him. mulder lets her stay in his room, gives her a blanket to curl up on his bed as he sits below her and tells her about samantha.

usually this scene is discussed because of the intimacy between mulder & scully, but we learn a lot about the mytharc here too. samantha “disappeared from her bed one night” and there was no evidence, no contact, and no one would talk about it. he went to oxford, got recruited by the bureau. (while they’re having this conversation, someone is lurking outside the motel room.) he finds the x files and he was allowed to indulge because of his success and connections. mulder tells scully:

i’m telling you this, scully, because you need to know, because of what you’ve seen. in my research, i’ve worked very closely with a man named dr. heitz werber and he’s taken me through deep regression hypnosis. i’ve been able to go into my own repressed memories to the night my sister disappeared. i can recall a bright light outside and a presence in the room. i was paralyzed, unable to respond to my sister’s calls for help…listen to me, scully, this thing exists…the government knows about it, and i gotta know what they’re protecting. nothing else matters to me, and this is as close as i’ve ever gotten to it.

he covers sam’s abduction, how he found the x files, why he’s allowed to work on them, and the first inkling (for the audience) of a government conspiracy.

this is when mulder gets the call about peggy o’dell. (scully’s jump at the phone ringing is striking. she was so focused on mulder and what he was telling her, everything else faded away.) they go to the scene and mulder is shocked to hear peggy was running – “on foot?” just really cracks me up. as he’s focused on talking to the man driving, scully is taking a look at peggy’s body and makes note of the time on her watch, which is stopped. but just then, mulder learns ray soames’ corpse is missing. when they get back to the motel, it’s on fire with scully’s laptop, pictures and evidence inside.

theresa nemman approaches them in the chaos, they take her to a diner to hear what she has to say. she talks about finding herself in the woods, not knowing how she got there. she tells them she has the marks on her back too. she’s afraid she’s going to die too. her nose starts to bleed, like peggy’s did earlier, and as scully jumps up to grab napkins for her, theresa’s father, dr. nemman shows up with detective miles to take her home. this is when they realize det. miles’ is billy’s father.

mulder & scully have a brief conversation, brimming with their frustrations of losing their files & evidence, being denied access to a girl who needs help and wanted to talk, realizing how much these men are concealing. scully’s putting together dr. nemman’s & det. miles’ involvement. “they know” vs “they know something” – leading to mulder’s ultimate question (at this moment lol) of what’s in the other graves. when they go to check, the graves have already been dug up. the only other bodies already taken. at the graves, mulder puts together that billy miles is responsible. scully starts to follow his thoughts. he talks about time being stopped, he pauses “you think i’m crazy” and scully…she’s silent for a moment before telling him about peggy o’dell’s watch. another huge moment to me. she doesn’t believe it’s alien abduction, but she starts to understand the way mulder’s mind works, the connections he makes and the subsequent leaps. she doesn't keep this information from him despite it feeding a theory she doesn't agree with.

they head over to see billy miles. mulder talks to the nurse and scully starts to examine billy, finding his feet dirty, covered in the same dirt she found in the forest. a boy, who has been in a coma for years, completely bedridden and seemingly unaware of what’s happening around him. and scully is ready to run with this. he was out in the woods!!! and another important moment, mulder grounds her. reminds her of what she needs to do, her reports, procedure. and i think this is the moment that cements their roles – but shows they can also switch as need arises. mulder didn't understand how much he needed the science & evidence until he had someone ready to find it. so they go back out to the woods to get another sample of the dirt. that’s when they hear theresa scream and they go running. det. miles hits scully over the head and goes running after mulder, holding him at gunpoint as theresa continues to scream. and i love this moment too, because mulder appeals to this man’s better nature, urging him not to let billy kill another person. mulder stops him from shooting his son too. we see the marks on billy’s back, as a white light starts to overtake the scene with leaves blowing like a cyclone around billy & theresa. when the light finally fades, billy is conscious again, theresa is safe and the marks are gone from billy’s back. instantaneously.

the ending scenes are billy under hypnotic regression with dr. werber. mulder in the room with them. scully, blevins, the other man from scully’s meeting, and csm observing. billy talks about the aliens, the tests, the implant. the tests didn’t work, and the aliens were destroying the evidence. killing the abductees…mulder and scully make eye contact through the glass. cut to scully reporting to blevins. she can’t substantiate anything, they have no evidence, how do you prosecute?? this is what blevins & company care about. but scully held onto one piece of evidence: the implant, made of a metal that could not be identified, the implant billy miles claimed was controlling him. she leaves it with blevins, and when she exits, she watches csm enter blevins’ office. she has no idea who this man is, but he has been present at crucial moments and she took notice. she doesn’t understand yet but she won’t forget him.

in the end, mulder calls scully late at night to tell her the case file on billy miles has disappeared. csm is walking into the pentagon storage facility, filing away the metal implant with others just like it.

the pilot really lays a lot of groundwork. the implants, the marks/scars. the abduction experience, time loss, electronic interference, hypnotic regression. deformed corpses. government connections. disappearing evidence, constant interference. samantha’s abduction.

episode connections (before i watch future episodes):

conduit: small detail, but the ash-like dirt reminds me of the sand & glass at lake okobogee.

duane barry: he has an implant in his nasal cavity, much like the one they find. later on, in the anasazi trilogy, we learn scully has a chip in her neck which later connects her to other female abductees and carries through to cassandra in patient x/the red and the black.

cancer arc: billy miles indicates the exact place scully gets cancer.

reduxes: blevins is exposed as the mole. for the first part of the first season, scully reports to him until the x files is reassigned to skinner’s jurisdiction. his involvement isn’t fully explored, but he doesn’t completely disappear.

deadalive: ray soames’ transformation – possibly a failed attempt of what happens to billy miles & others, and nearly happens to mulder. also similar to the bodies mulder finds in anasazi.

csm: he’s there for scully’s meeting with blevins, he is there at the end for billy miles’ hypnotic regression. he is the most prominent figure in the conspiracy, as far as what we see, with a direct hand in scully’s & mulder’s experiences.

samantha’s abduction: there are two different versions of her abduction. truthfully, i think they just changed the story to work better for them. BUT (as i’ve mentioned before) i think it fits well into the mytharc later on – within the framework of the show, i think it’s possible samantha was abducted twice. conduit, paper hearts, demons, and another episode.

myth x:

one thing i really do like about this book is that it breaks down all the players. each group of aliens are given a clear name (which appear in the show but was never completely clear to me until this time around). michelle bush purports that the aliens abducting the oregon teens are walk-ins, representing the divine. they’re supposedly good but don’t know how to go about their goals. in some ways, this rings true. it’s the walk-ins that “save” samantha from more suffering. it’s like the walk-ins cassandra spender believes are trying to help them. bush describes their goal as “reintegration of both halves of the whole (alien and human) using natural means; this results in a single sentience allowing a return to physical and spiritual harmony.” which on paper, doesn’t sound bad. but their methods are as harmful as any of the others (alien and human alike).

[california-112]

Prepare to have your ask box spammed!

What are some of your favorite Mulder headcanons?

Shields are...down! Let the spam rain :)

Mulder headcanons! Here we go! Some are extremely surface level and some are weirdly deep, so this might be a bit of a rollercoaster.

The bedroom in Mulder's apartment is used as essentially a dumping ground/boxroom/shed up until S6 because when he first moved out of his parents house he took literally EVERYTHING that belonged to him that he wanted to keep. He had zero intention of going back there to live on a long-term basis, and between going to Oxford and then going straight into the FBI, he never had to. So he has almost everything that he owns in that apartment (excluding what's in the basement office), and that's why he needs a box room to keep the place vaguely liveably tidy.

The reason he could sacrifice the bedroom to this so easily is because ever since Samantha's abduction, he's found that he has fewer flashback nightmares about it when he's not sleeping in a bed. This is specifically because I prefer the original abduction story he used in the Pilot what randomly got changed in S2.

He didn't have any partners on the X-Files before Scully (I Do No See Diana), and so when he felt like he needed to discuss a case with someone, he recorded himself presenting to a camera and then reviewed the tapes to make more sense of his ideas. (I have explored this in a fic!)

I think his fear of fire as canonised in Fire is very real, he just learns to control it more as the series goes on

He's asexual. To me 😌 I present the GIFs below (from this set of mine) as evidence:

Also in this scene he says that he hardly ever drinks and I believe that. We hardly see him drinking alcohol on screen as far as I remember. Also in the bar scene in FTF, I don't know how many shots of whatever $86 would get you, but he is GONE. He would never normally monologue like that to a random stranger. Also, he fully gives the wrong address for either himself or Scully when he gets in the cab. He may have a high alcohol tolerance, but he hardly ever uses it.

This is more of an AU maybe, but I love the idea of him being a trans guy. It adds so much to his character and viewing the series through that lens gives meaning to a lot of throwaway remarks, particularly ones like in Tooms when he says he even asked his parents to call him Mulder (and they notably didn't!). There are many good fics about this in the Trans Mulder Literary Universe AO3 collection!

This is more about other people thinking about Mulder but I definitely think that Frohike and to an extent Skinner see Mulder as a surrogate son.

When Mulder gets hold of the modern version of PowerPoint OH BOY. Scully regrets the Microsoft subscription immediately. There is so much word art. He tries to build every entry and exit effect into every slideshow. He uses the origami bird transition and the turning-to-dust transition and all the other cheesy ones. None of his documents are under 100MB between either amount of slides or amount of pictures. His hard drive is full almost immediately because he tries to turn every case file into a presentation. And Scully sits through all of them, because she loves him.

Like me, he celebrates the New Year rather than Christmas or another religious holiday in that season (though I do love the popular Jewish!Mulder headcanon). It's still a secular holiday, he just has a few of his own traditions that he likes to observe every year. I have a fic planned where he shares them with Scully which I hope to write and share this year :)

That's all that come to me at the moment...though if any more turn up I shall let you know :) Thank you for this ask, I had a lot of fun thinking about these! Maybe more of them will be turned into fic, who knows!

[enigmaticxbee]

XF AU - Fic Recs

When the world was unrecognizable and upside down, there was one thing that remained the same. You... were my friend, and you told me the truth. Even when the world was falling apart, you were my constant... my touchstone (or, alternate universe and canon-divergent fics):

Contemporary AUs:

A Companion Unobtrusive by @slippinmickeys - She needed a roommate. He needed a room.

The Annapolis Grant by @slippinmickeys - Fake relationship! Scully hires Mulder to pretend to be her boyfriend.

Aprons and Scrubs by @lokisgame - Scully’s a doctor and Mulder runs a bar.

Five Years and a Lifetime by @monikafilefan @slippinmickeys - One night stand AU. Five years later, Scully and Mulder work at the same pediatric hospital, and Scully's four year old daughter bears a striking resemblance to the picture of a dark haired girl that sits on Mulder's desk...

Skin by Annie Sewell-Jennings - In a world where Mulder and Scully have never met, fate intervenes and brings two worlds colliding in the city of Charleston, as a vicious murderer reigns and a storm approaches.

Sinners Come Down by aster_risk - Six years into her marriage to Daniel, Scully meets Fox Mulder at a bar one night, and they get talking and fucking over alcohol and self-pity.

In the Best Interest of the Child by @mldrgrl - When tragedy strikes, Mulder is forced to take guardianship of his young niece, but the matter is complicated by the arrival of a sister-in-law he's never met.

Historical AUs:

By the Dim and Flaring Lamps by @sunflowerseedsandscience - Civil War AU. Captain Mulder befriends Private Scully who’s hiding a secret…

The Countess and The Earl by @slippinmickeys - Regency Romance!

Old Growth Forest by Andrea - Mulder and Scully travel back to frontier times

Rocky Mountain Interlude Part 1 and Part 2 by Jacquie LaVa and Tess - Mulder and Scully travel back in time to solve the case of a Colorado mining ghost

The Science of Sex by @if-the-seascatchfire - Masters of Sex AU. Mulder and Scully are doctors in the late 1950s who undertake a years-long study about human sexuality, and as part of the research, they also have sex with each other - you know, for the science.

Out of this World:

The Magician by Suzanne Bickerstaffe and Jennifer Lyon - Fantasy series where Mulder and Scully travel to another world full of magic (one of the first fanfics I ever remember reading!)

Out of the Little Grove by @slippinmickeys - Crossover with His Dark Materials (a mashup truly made just for me, my 13 year old self would have been over the moon)

Blinded by White Light by @dashakay - Post-colonization. What are we, but the sum of our memories? A classic.

Julia and Gabriel by Mish - Post-colonization. A new identity, a new, dangerous society, an unchanged heart and soul. Gave me Hunger Games vibes for some reason (although written years before that was published)

Canon-Divergent: Pre or Early Series

Eleventh Hour by Rachel Anton - Mulder travels back in time to find college-aged Scully and change everything.

Belphagor’s Prime by Prufrock’s Love - When Scully disappears Mulder travels back in time to a pre-X-Files Scully for help.

In Another Life by @mldrgrl - What if there was no conspiracy? What if Mulder was just a regular FBI Agent? What if Scully was just a bureau pathologist?

How They Met by @peacenik0 - After an encounter at Scully’s FBI academy graduation party they must determine how to deal with their past and their undeniable attraction to one another when partnered up.

One Week at Quantico by CrossedBeams - What if Mulder had been teaching at the Academy when Scully was training…

Paging Dr. Scully by @mangokiwitropicalswirl - Mulder keeps ending up in Dr Scully’s ER.

Only One Choice by @sisterspooky1013 - Scully was never assigned to The X Files.

The Way Things Are by Sukie Tawdry - A season 1 one night stand changes everything. Baby-fic.

Departures & Arrivals by anarchybeauty - After the X Files are closed in 1994, Scully moves on. Two years later, she runs into Mulder in an airport.

Right Hand Return by humphreywrites - Scully is returned from her abduction with a baby, no memories of anything prior to her captivity and some PTSD.

12 Rites of Passage and 12 Degrees of Separation by Anne Hayes - mytharc story written very early in the series run.

parent_1 by @markwatneyandenesemble - It’s 1996, Mulder’s been off the X-Files for three years, and not speaking to Scully. They’ve almost moved on with their lives. Almost.

Canon-Divergent: Mid Series

A Different Place by @myownsuperintendent - When Mulder successfully brings one of the Samantha clones back from the farm with him in Herrenvolk, she must learn to adapt to a different life.

Once More With Feeling by skinfull - While on a stakeout Mulder is shot in the head and loses his memory.

Iolokus by rivkat and MustangSally - Mytharc AU. Painted across the barren and desolate reaches of Texas, the shadows of the Project put additional pressure on Scully and Mulder's already fragile relationship. After a hostage crisis raises more questions about the Project's breeding program, Scully begins her own investigation, leaving Mulder to choose between saving her and saving himself. Pretty disturbing but fascinating, a classic.

Arizona Highways by Fialka - Mytharc AU. Visions of Melissa lead Our Heroes on a case confirming the existence of a series of Emilys. But does Melissa really have a message, or is it all in Scully’s head? Another classic.

Heuvelmans' On the Track by @mashnotesofthemythopoeic - post-FTF mytharc AU, truly a ride you’ll never forget.

The Leap and Landfall by Ambress - Scully has a one time opportunity for motherhood, given to her by the Kurt Crawfords.

All That Is Dark and Bright by @malibusunset-xf-blog - Emily lives AU.

Five Years and One Night by Shalimar - Scully leaves the X-Files post-Emily but gets drawn back in when Mulder discovers Emily wasn’t the only child created.

Cubed by Louise Marin - Mid-season 6 Scully does a little body-swapping of her own. Can she and Mulder make it back to each other? Do they want to?

The Boy on the Beach and Tonight We're Gonna Party Like It's 1999 by @cecilysass - One moment she was sitting in the chair. Her chin up, her expression ice. And the next moment she was gone. Fantastic exploration of the Samantha storyline.

Canon-Divergent: Late or Post Series

40 Weeks by @malibusunset-xf-blog - What if the IVF attempt in Per Manum had been successful?

Mobius by L.A. Ward - Post-Requiem while investigating the disappearance of a physicist, Scully finds someone she didn't expect - Mulder. But is it her Mulder?

By the Wind Grieved by Karen Rasch - Mulder is returned several months post Requiem but he doesn't know who he is or what Scully and he are to each other. Together they must reclaim the past before their enemies take away their future.

Deadalive AU by @markwatneyandenesemble - Mulder is returned but is missing several years of memory.

The 13th Sign and 7 Days in May by Prufrock’s Love - Post-Deadalive. Mulder saw no reason for life, death, sex, Armageddon, or emotional dysfunction to stand in the way of true love.

Hurricane Season by rah and beduini - Post-Existence week at the beach with the Scully family and baby Wim.

Terra Firma series by @malibusunset-xf-blog - Post-Existence domestic family drama, a classic comfort read for me.

2008 by MystPhile - With the quest at an end, the X-Files closed in the year 2000. Our heroes went their separate ways. In 2008, they meet in Bloomingdale's and the past, present, and future are explored.

Dr. Scully's School for Exceptional Boys by Prufrock’s Love - More than a decade had passed. Mulder had no reason to hole up in his apartment alone, wearing a Three Dog Night T-shirt with dried mustard on the hem and blue jeans that had seen better days. He wasn't "saving himself" for anyone. Especially not Her. Though she remained epically, beautifully, brilliantly kick-A-S-S.

Machines of Freedom by Amal Nahurriyeh - post-IWTB. The end of the world is coming. And they're doing everything in their power to stop it.

North of Zero by @slippinmickeys - Post-IWTB, post-colonization. The bombs have fallen. The aliens have come. What’s next?

Canon Parallel AUs:

I've got you under my skin by cuits - In a universe where soulmate identifying marks exist and affect a part of the population, would Mulder and Scully's relationship evolve any different? Unfinished but complete through Existence so it still ends in a satisfying place.

Half-light by skuls - Mulder and Scully get a second chance.

The Family G-Man by Neoxphile and FelineFemme - A double tragedy strikes Mulder the week before Christmas of 2003. What if he could go back and change things, save the son one lost and give the other the family she wanted? Could it keep them safe?

[atths--twice]

The Pull of Poetry

Mulder has a fun little surprise in store for Scully.

Happy Fictober everyone!🎃 Today kicks off the first of many stories that I'm excited to share with you all.

Hope you enjoy!

January, 2010

“What’s that?” Scully asked, pointing to a small plastic bag on the table. 

“Oh that? Nothing,” Mulder answered, picking the bag up and pocketing it. 

“Nothing?” she answered, smiling with an eyebrow raised. 

“Yup.” He nodded and winked at her as she shook her head. 

“Fine. Keep your little secrets.” 

“I plan to. For the moment anyway,” he said, smiling again. 

“Alright. You have fun with that. I have to get going.”  

“Yes, dear. Have a wonderful day.” 

“Goodbye, dear,” she said, rolling her eyes as she stepped closer and tipped her head back for a kiss. He smiled as he bent his head, meeting her halfway. 

“You want anything special for dinner?” he asked and she pulled back in surprise. 

“You’re gonna make something?” 

“I could. Or I could pick something up.” 

“That might be safer. And more edible.” 

“Hey,” he said, pulling her to him and locking his hands around her back, keeping her close. “I’m not a bad cook.” 

“Hmm,” she said, wrapping her arms around his waist and looking up at him with a smile. “I think the pan we had to replace, and that one pot, would like to have a word about that statement.” 

“It didn’t catch on fire.” 

“No,” she laughed. “Just burnt to the pan and wouldn’t come off. And then no matter what was done to it, any food cooked in the pot still tasted burnt.” 

“Huh. I’ll pick something up,” he said, making a face at the memory of the burnt pot taste. 

“Good idea,” she said, patting his back and chuckling softly. 

“Any preferences? Or should I surprise you?” 

“Hmm,” she hummed, closing her eyes as she raised an eyebrow. “Surprise me. You know what I like.” 

“Hmm,” he hummed back in response, as she opened her eyes, rocking them gently. “That I do. In so many aspects.” 

“Yes. You do,” she said, bringing her arms from around his waist and placing her hands on his chest. “But, let’s leave it at food for the moment as I have to get going.” 

“Yes, dear,” he said, smiling as he bent to kiss her again. 

“Okay. I have to go.” 

“So go,” he said, making no move to release her. 

“Mulder!” She laughed as she squirmed in his arms. “Don’t make me kick your ass.” 

“But you know I like that,” he said, nuzzling her neck and growling softly. 

“Mulder… I have to go.” She laughed again as she moved to the left and he let her go, smiling as she shook her head. “You always do this right before I have to leave.” 

“Do what?” he asked innocently, knowing full well what she meant. 

“You know, Mulder,” she said, shaking her head again as she smoothed her hair down. “Your timing could be better.” 

“I’ll remember that,” he said and she chortled. 

“You won’t.” She stepped away and he followed her to the door, helping her with her coat. Handing her her bag, he kissed her again. 

“Goodbye, my darling,” he said and shook her head. 

“No. Darling, will not be tolerated.” 

“Okay, sweetie pie,” he said as she opened the door and stepped through it. 

“Nope,” she said, shaking her head. 

“My main squeeze?” 

“Mulder,” she said, laughing as she walked down the stairs. 

“Baby doll?” 

“Mulder, I will make myself vomit,” she said, looking back at him over her shoulder. He chuckled as he followed her down the stairs. 

“My one and only?” 

She opened the back door and put her bag inside. Closing it, she looked at him and he smiled with a shrug. 

“Your constant? Your touchstone?” she asked and he hummed as he stepped toward her, pulling her in for a kiss. He dipped her, his hand tangling in her hair, as she held onto his arms, laughing against his lips. 

“That will never change,” he said, kissing her once more, righting her and making sure she was steady on her feet, before letting her go. 

“Hmm,” she hummed, patting his chest with a smile. “And you are mine. Always.” He grinned, nodding as he stroked her cheek. 

“You need to get going.” 

“Yes, I do.” 

“Well then,” he said, stepping back and away from the car. “You have a good day… my touchstone.” 

“You too,” she said, opening the door and getting inside. She smiled as she closed the door and started the car.

Rolling the window down, she beckoned to him with her finger. He stepped forward and leaned down, placing a hand on the open window space. 

“Yes?” 

“I love you,” she said, squeezing his fingers as she smiled. 

“I love you too,” he said, smiling as he squeezed back.  

“Just wanted you to be absolutely sure.” 

“Thanks,” he said, kissing her once more before he stood up and stepped back. She nodded and put the car in reverse, watching him as she backed up. 

“Goodbye, my darling,” he called to her and she laughed as she shook her head, putting the car in drive and waving as she drove down the driveway. He grinned, waiting until she was out of sight before heading back inside. 

Taking out the small bag from his pocket, he smiled at the words he could see. He walked to the kitchen table, set the bag down, and then stood in front of the refrigerator, looking at the magnets upon it. 

While there were not many, the ones they had were from places they had bought when they had been on the run. Not having space for bulky items, magnets were easy to slip into a pocket or a bag. 

They had one shaped like a Ferris wheel from a harvest festival in Wyoming. Three ponderosa trees clumped together with an orange tent beneath them from Montana. A Bigfoot in the forest in Washington state. Two smiling cactuses wearing sunglasses from Arizona. A covered wagon and old fashioned windmill from Oklahoma. An idyllic village encapsulated within a snow globe from Wisconsin. And his favorite was an alligator, onto which Scully had carefully written Big Blue upon its back, from Florida. 

Things were held up with the magnets- a shopping list. An article he saw in the paper that he knew would make her laugh. A picture he had taken of her as she stood on the porch early one morning, staring out at the yard. A couple of restaurant menus. Ticket stubs to a sci-fi double feature they had attended on his birthday. 

He sighed as he began to take them all down, laying them on the table. They would be going back, but he had something else to put up first. When it was all cleared, he opened the plastic bag and dumped out its contents. 

Spreading out the small rectangular words, he smiled as he began to figure out what he wanted to create. 

Happy love with you 

My heart skips 

Thoughts are bright 

Me us forever 

Burn

Soft skin taste 

Touch 

Frantic whisper worship 

“Hmm,” he hummed, suddenly finding himself aroused by the thoughts in his head. “Gotta keep this PG or I might find myself in trouble.” He cleared his throat, trying not to think of the way Scully whisper-moaned his name as she approached climax. “Goddamn man…” 

He spread out all of the words, his thoughts still on Scully- her smile, the feel of her lips, the softness of her skin, her taste, the way her breathing increased, and the feel of her breaking around him. 

When he had arranged and then rearranged the words, he stood back and looked at what he had created. 

Smile

Laugh 

Skin 

Soft and light 

Kiss like a cloud 

Touch taste whisper 

Love burn red hot 

Slow body worship 

Heart mind soul symphony 

You me tonight 

Forever  

My darling 

He nodded, happy with the result. Especially with the last word, beyond ecstatic when he had seen it. 

Moving the words from the table and to the refrigerator, he lined them up in the center of the freezer door, spacing them apart in places. He smiled at his handiwork, nodding as he then replaced the other magnets and the items they had held. He kept them on the refrigerator door, the poem he had made front and center. 

Putting the remaining words into a stemless wine glass beside the refrigerator, for the moments when inspiration hit, he glanced repeatedly at the poem, smiling each time. 

Deciding to straighten up the house, he started with the laundry, rotating a load from the washer to the dryer. He hummed as he went about his tasks, running the vacuum when he was done. 

Hours later, the pizza from Giano’s warming in the oven as the salad chilled in the refrigerator, he heard the car door shut, announcing Scully’s arrival. Grinning, he turned off the light in the laundry room, the next load tumbling in the dryer. 

Walking into the living room, he waited for her to come in, glancing quickly at the refrigerator, anticipating what she would say when she saw it. 

The door opened and she walked in, carrying her bag and sighing as she rolled her neck.

“Hey,” he said and she raised her eyes to his, sighing again. 

“Hey,” she replied softly. Taking a deep breath, she smiled. “It smells good in here.” 

“Giano’s. Pizza.” She tilted her head and he smiled. “And a salad.”  

“Good man,” she said, setting her bag down and taking off her coat. “I’m really tired. It was busy today. Had some unexpected meetings and long conversations with some parents. I didn’t eat lunch and that pizza smells delicious.” 

“Well, perhaps I could interest you in a couple of slices, some salad, and a glass of wine?” 

“Yes,” she said with a nod, her eyes closing briefly. “Let me wash my hands and I’ll join you.” 

“You got it, hon,” he said and she gave him a look as she passed him. 

He smiled, walking into the kitchen and taking out plates, bowls, and silverware. He opened the wine and poured her a glass, glancing at the refrigerator again. 

“Sometimes I wonder how we ran on little to no sleep and skipped meals for days at a time,” she said, coming into the kitchen. “I feel drained from one shift these days.” 

“We were younger then,” he said, handing her her glass. 

“We’re not that much older,” she said, frowning slightly as she raised the glass to her lips. 

“Hmm,” he said with a shrug. 

“You’re older,” she stated and he grinned. 

“By three years,” he said with a small chuckle. 

“Well… older is older,” she said, raising an eyebrow as she shrugged. 

“Hmm,” he hummed again, licking his lips. 

“It looks nice in here,” she said, taking another drink as she looked around. 

“I did the laundry too.” 

“Did you-”

“Yes, I hung your delicates.” 

“Good man,” she said to him again. “I don’t see any pizza on my plate.” 

“Let me remedy that,” he replied, stepping toward her and staring at her lips. She smiled and raised up, kissing him softly. “You get the salad.” 

“Okay.” 

He stepped to the oven, watching her out of the corner of his eye as he took out the pizza and set it on the stovetop. She set her glass down, reached for the refrigerator door handle and pulled it open. She took out the container of salad and set it beside her glass of wine before taking out the bottle of salad dressing. Closing the refrigerator, she sighed as she shook the bottle. 

Opening his mouth to ask her how she missed it, he watched her look at the refrigerator and then at him. 

“What?” 

“What?” he parroted back, trying not to smile. 

“What is this?” she asked, setting the bottle of dressing down. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Smile. Laugh. Skin. Soft and light. Kiss like a cloud,” she read, glancing at him again. He smiled and nodded, encouraging her to keep reading. “Touch taste whisper. Love burn red hot. Slow body worship.” Looking at him again, he saw her breathing increase. “Heart mind soul symphony. You me tonight. Forever. My darling.” She laughed at the last word, looking at him and shaking her head. “Is this what you were hiding from me this morning?” 

“Maybe.” 

“I love it. Heart mind soul symphony,” she read again. “Forever.” 

“My darling,” he said, stepping closer to her. She laughed again as she looked at him.

“Did you know that was in that bag this morning?” 

“Nope. What a crazy coincidence, huh?” 

“One could even say spooky,” she said, stepping closer and wrapping her arms around his waist. 

“One could. But should one?” he asked, pulling her close. 

“You crazy, crazy, spooky man,” she said as he smiled. 

“There’s a glass of words just there,” he said, nodding to it and she looked at it with a nod of her own. “In case you felt inspired to create something as well.” 

“Perhaps after I eat,” she said, looking up at him. “And have a couple of glasses of wine.” 

“Drunk poetry is always better than sober poetry.” 

“I don’t know. I like what you came up with. Especially touch taste whisper.”

“Is that right?” 

“Mmhmm,” she said with a nod. “But I’ll need a rain check to show you how much I liked it.” 

“Rain check given.” 

“Thank you… darling.” 

He threw his head back and laughed as she laid her head on his chest and hugged him tightly. 

“Oh, Scully,” he said, kissing the top of her head as they swayed gently. 

Dinner eaten, her eyes closing from time to time, revealing how tired she truly was, he smiled when he suggested she take a bath while he cleaned the kitchen. 

“Thank you,” she said, brushing her hand across his back as she went upstairs. 

He brought her a cup of tea and her wine when he went upstairs, giving her the option. She took both with a tired smile and he chuckled, bending to kiss her head. 

Not wanting to go straight to bed, he suggested a movie and she agreed, though he knew she would most likely fall asleep before it made it further than the first few minutes. 

She laid on the couch with her head against his leg, his fingers running through her hair, when he heard her breathing even out and he knew his thoughts had been accurate. He smiled as he continued watching the movie, rubbing her scalp gently. 

When the movie was over, he woke her and helped her stumble up the stairs to bed, covering her and kissing her goodnight. 

“Hmm, night… darling,” she mumbled and he chuckled, kissing her again. 

“Love you,” he whispered and she hummed, putting her hand under her pillow. 

He went back downstairs, double checked the locks, and brought their cups of tea to the kitchen sink. Stepping to the refrigerator, he did a double take at the words he had put up. 

Four of them had been taken out and placed below his poem. He did not know when she had done it, but the sight of them made him smile, knowing his purchase of the poetry magnet words would be worth every penny. 

Love you forever 

Darling 

[baronessblixen]

Little Sanguinarium prompt whenever you feel like it: Mulder to Scully: "Well, not everyone can say they're the most beautiful wherever they go."

UST-filled post-ep fic: Mulder thinks Scully is the most beautiful person wherever she goes. She doesn't believe him so he tries to make her see it his way. (wc: 1,258)

Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober2023

Fictober Day 18: Beautiful In My Eyes

They’re working on their case report. At least in theory. Mulder is clearly not typing, his thoughts elsewhere. She’d like to be elsewhere too. It’s after 4 p.m. and she’s tired and hungry. Maybe a bit cranky. And much like Mulder, her thoughts aren’t at all on their most recent case. The one Skinner wants a report on. She sighs and Mulder’s head shoots up, his interest immediately piqued.

“Bored?” he asks.

“Tired,” she says.

“We can finish up tomorrow.”

“Something else might come up tomorrow. Mulder, I hate this as much as you do, but procrastinating is not going to help.”

He makes a noise and leans back in his chair, his hands behind his head.

“Have you ever thought about it?”

“Thought about what?” she asks, trying to make sense of what she’s already written.

“Getting plastic surgery.”

“Not seriously,” she says, thinking about the time she wanted to have bigger boobs. She was younger then. Much younger. “Have you?”

“With a nose like mine? Of course.” He holds his pen up to it as if trying to see how the two compare. She narrows her eyes, watching him.

“You surprise me sometimes,” she says. “Have you looked in a mirror?”

“Every once in a while,” he replies with a grin. “Are you saying I’m good-looking?”

“You know you are.” She clears her throat and hopes she’s not blushing too furiously. With her complexion, the slightest flush of her skin can reveal her true feelings. In high school, she could never keep her crushes a secret for long. Melissa always got it out of her because eventually, little red splotches would appear on her skin and make it obvious.

“And anyway,” she goes on, hoping Mulder will just let it go, “I think everyone wonders sometimes. What would it be like to be more beautiful? Just look at the cosmetic surgery industry. For some people that’s all that matters: to be the most beautiful person wherever they go.”

“Well, not everyone can say they're the most beautiful wherever they go,” Mulder says, cracking a sunflower seed between his teeth. “Not when they’re in a room with you.”

“Right,” she says, not taking him seriously at all. “We really need to finish this report, Mulder. Otherwise, we’ll never leave this office.”

“Did you hear what I said?” he asks. She’s staring down at the file, so she hears rather than sees Mulder round the desk and stop in front of her. She gets a whiff of his scent and wonders for a moment how he can still smell so good after a day at work.

“Scully? Did you hear what I said?” He’s not letting it go. Sometimes he’s more stubborn than a mule.

“I heard you,” she says, but doesn’t look up.

“You don’t believe me.” He’s not even asking; he knows.

“Mulder, I know I’m an attractive woman.” She finally meets his gaze. “But the most beautiful person? That’s a bit much.” He shakes his head, not once looking away from her.

“You are.” There’s more to what he’s saying, but it hangs in the air between them. She’s scared to reach for it.

“Can you drop this? Please? We need to finish this report.” That damn report. That damn case, too. That’s what brought his question on in the first place.

“In a second,” he says. “Why won’t you believe me?”

“I believe you, okay? Can we work now?”

“Your eyes,” he says, his voice so soft that it takes her breath away. “Before I knew you, I’d never seen eyes like yours. They’re so big and round. And Scully, they’re so blue. When I first met you, I thought of ice. But your eyes aren’t ice at all. They’re the color of the ocean you love so much.” She swallows hard, her mouth hanging open.

“Then there’s your nose. Did you know that the tip of your nose moves when you talk? Sometimes I can’t listen to anything you say because of it. But that could also be because of your lips.” He’s come closer and has crouched down. He’s level with her now and she feels frozen in place. For a moment she thinks, almost hopes, that he’s going to touch her. But the only part of him touching her are his eyes. She watches him as they wander to her lips. Instinctively, she licks them and sees a smile appear on his face.

“Hmm, yeah. That’s all I’m gonna say. And that’s just your face, Scully.” His eyes meet hers and she sees the honesty in his. Vulnerability. He’s letting her see a side of him she hasn’t seen before. He’s opening his heart to her. “If I wrote poetry, I could fill volumes with how beautiful you are. Your face, your body, and your mind. Oh, your mind. That might be the sexiest of them all."

“Because men are so attracted to intelligence."

"Well, I am." He's looking at her and not even blinking.

Mulder,” she whispers. “What are you doing?”

“Telling you the truth.” He shrugs. They don’t do this. They never do this. There have been moments when she thought about the two of them as more than partners. Sometimes out of fear or desperation. Many, many times out of sheer attraction. She knows they’re attracted to each other. She’s seen him look at her from time to time. But mostly, she’s chalked it up to her being around him every day.

She knows about the videos he watches and has seen the actresses that star in them. They’re tall and brunette. Sometimes blonde. Not once has she seen a redhead. She’s also seen him check out women while they were having lunch, or on case. Never a redhead there either. All of that makes her want to dismiss what he’s saying. Maybe he’s only doing this to flatter her so she’ll write the report on her own. If it weren’t for his eyes. She knows Mulder. Has had years now to study and get to know him. More than that, she knows the tell-tale signs of attraction. And right now, while Mulder is looking her in the eyes, his pupils are dilated.

“Are you doing this to get out of writing this report?” She just has to know.

“That thought never crossed my mind,” he says with a sweet smile. “Would that have worked?”

“No.” Mulder laughs and she’s tempted to give him a taste of his own medicine. Because she, too, could compose sonnets about how beautiful he is. Starting with his mind. Beautiful, brilliant mind. Then there are his puppy eyes, and his pouty, luscious lips.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks.

“The case,” she lies.

“Liar," he says, his face so close that the tip of his nose touches her. "Why would that case make you blush?” Now he's grinning at her. “Don’t worry,” he says, moving in even closer so that their mouths are only a hairsbreadth apart. “I won’t call you out on starting at my lips.”

“I wasn't,” she says with a gasp, despite having done exactly that.

“If you say so.” The moment breaks and he gets up to return to his own chair, to his part of the report. “Let’s finish this and I don’t know about you but I’m starving. Wanna join me for dinner?”

She’s definitely hungry. And she knows her hunger could be dangerous. Especially after everything he’s just said. And yet, she doesn’t even need to think about her answer.

“I’d love to.”

[azure-firecracker]

💥🥳🦋

Yahoo thank you for the ask! Sorry this took so long!

The game is here.

💥What is one canon thing that you wish you could change?

Number of times Scully gets kidnapped in the exact same way (they clearly know how to put characters in danger in a variety of ways so it doesn’t feel repetitive- they did it with Mulder). So I would lessen that, and I would add more role reversals to even it out. Y’all know that I am constantly doing this with fanfic:)

I would also want the show to pay more attention to Scully’s agency, because it gets taken away a lot, and she’s the female main character, and the writers’ room was mostly men, and I just…do not like that.

🥳 Why did you start writing fanfic?

I started writing fanfic for Six: The Musical in spring 2020 when I was locked in my house and looking for ways to connect and find an outlet for my creative imagination that wasn’t theater. Writing turned out to be really great because I could essentially act out stories to myself and then write them down (and still do this) and it helped me find a new community. I’ve traditionally written the most since then at times when I’ve been the most isolated or lonely (COVID, 9th grade year abroad, summer after a rough senior year), but now I’m realizing how much joy it brings me, and I’m trying to keep making time for it in college, even though my mental health is much better.

🦋 Which character is your favorite to write?

Back when I was in the ATLA fandom, I really loved writing Azula. A lot of her fears and motivations were similar to mine, and her angsty thoughts when I wrote her did often parallel my own (though not exactly-and demeanor wise we’re quite different). Writing her was often cathartic and served as an outlet for me - but she was also badass and a lot more of a fighter than I am, so having her be able to do that even with the same flaws I had was nice.

But in terms of Mulder and Scully my current loves, it honestly depends on what the situation requires. I will say Scully comes more easily to me, because I find writing women easier and I’m also a bit more like her, but Mulder when he’s in the throes of his guilt complex or being super duper tender is wonderful to write. The guilt complex is just so layered and tragic, and the way Mulder loves with his whole heart is such a lovely thing to write about. I almost feel like I’m a part of it. For Scully, her internal monologue is so articulate and clever and thought-out, and that’s quite satisfying to write. I’m also a sucker for badass Scully, so anytime she’s on the warpath and gets to yell and point her gun at bad guys and save her coworker/boyfriend/who knows is just self-indulgent and fun for me.

This got long! Tysm for asking😊😊😊

[randomfoggytiger]

X-Files Collector's Edition: Fics That Deserve More Comments (Part I)

There isn't enough recognition for these fics in my opinion-- and that's a shame and must be rectified! SO-- I'm pushing this list out ASAP, without the usual aplomb and probably half-cocked; but it's the final results that count~. (At least that's what I tell myself.)

**Note**: All of these will be in a more detailed list in future.

**Note Again**: I got too tired to thoroughly finish it all professionally; but I decided to hit publish anyway. Have fun reading~.

**Note the 3rd**: This is probably littered with typos-- will ghost edit later. >:))))

Very loose chronological order below~

@txcb1013/charvill1981's

Paths Most Dangerous

AU-- Pre-S1 Captain Scully is warned by his old mate about Scully's new job, both men realizing it has to do with the Piper Maru submarine.  

Save by the Sight of Her

Pusher Mulder observes Scully's hurt, betrayal, and quick wit with a gun to her face; but she still keeps him guessing.

The Longest Summer

Post IWTB Mulder had tried to garden himself out of depression. Scully takes some plants with her, hoping that some space will help him heal while not letting him hide out at home forever.

Role of a Lifetime - Chapter 3

AU-- Post IWTB Scully disappeared; and Mulder finds someone he believes to be her five years later. All is not sunshine and roses, with her slowly repelling the life she used to live. This chapter explores Mulder's heartbreak and her explanation-- it's not him she's rejecting, but her own fears of herself.

Rainy Day

Pre-S10 Scully returns, telling Mulder her cancer has returned. He then surprises her twice: by fainting dead away, and proposing immediately after.

Jo_B's

Anterograde

Deep Throat Mulder is deeply shocked and grateful at how capable, empathetic, and understanding Scully is after his rescue.

holocene 

Post Redux II Mulder crashes at his apartment as reality sinks in: in just 24 hours, Scully will be energetically packing her bag and going back home.

@agentmulderrp's

Unnamed

Squeeze Mulder is glad that Scully stuck around.

Unnamed

Irresistible Mulder regrets that he hadn't arrived sooner, realizing Scully's "I'm fine" is code for anything but.

Unnamed

Per Manum Mulder is so shocked at Scully's request that he gets a pencil bop to the face. (Set right after he and Scully started dating.)

That WALKERKid's

These selfish wants of mine 

Post One Breath Mulder breaks into his office and tears it apart.

No matter how it happened, I do love you

S8 Mulder massages Scully's feet aches, in awe over his baby's foot outline and "UFO’s, road trips and mummy and daddy being in love".

Of all the things this unremarkable house has seen

Pre-S10 Mulder jogs along, depressed and thinking he'll never be forgiven. Scully calls, trying to veil her concern.  

The questions we don't ask each other

S10 Mulder asks a Magic 8 ball if Scully will ever forgive him; and receives no clear answer.

pir8grl 's This Time

Mulder and Scully trade gentle touches, having escaped death this time.

AlineLovelace's Jericho

AU Scully's body has vanished; but her ghost keeps trying to get Mulder-- who haunts her 'grave'-- to move on with life.

forgottenwords's

Scar Tissue

S3 Scully contemplates her and Mulder's scars.   

Wagers

Mulder is mortified over Skinner's personal inquiry of his 'relationship.' Scully is mortified the FBI bet is in the thousands.

adamstanheight's hindsight is twenty-twenty

Monday Skinner is dry-mouthed and horrified as his two agents blow up in the bank, the guilt over his actions in S. R. 819 coming home to roost.

@i-turn-to-stare/iturntostare's An Early Morning, Late Start

Pre-Je Souhaite Mulder and Scully are late to the office that morning, but the only person who seems to mind is an increasingly panicked Kim Cook.

soulgyrl's

The Need To Know or Mulder's Dilemma

Post Three Words Mulder drops in to TLGs, trying to probe them for information; and after a mild conversations, he knows.

Mother Never Told me There'd Be Days Like This

AU-- Pre-Essence Mulder and Scully are on an undercover mission in Target, fruitlessly trying to corral a perpetrator with Doggett and Monica in a comedy of errors. Mulder ends up dragging Scully, and they both just settle for a night in with popcorn.

ophelia_interrupted's (Ao3) Consortium Downsizing (Ao3)

Crack-- The Consortium hate their accountant but still need him to balance their budget. They're completely broke, though, so they force the US to buy cookies.

@ladymegg/LadyMeg's

A Sprinkle of Stardust/Remembered Promises

Mulder and Scully are scared to death in a haunted house; but end their night with a date set.

Realised Desires (Part 2 of Remembered Promises)

Mulder finally swipes Scully's planner and schedules in their date for that evening-- for a breaking and entering... or not.

Leaving the Years Behind  

Scully has whined many a time through the years, and Mulder has quietly hustled after her, teasing and doting with lunches and nap times.

piece_of_the_stars's snow day

Mulder and Scully are up late-early, calling each other and reminiscing over Samantha and her snowman Kevin. Mulder offers to introduce Kev to Scully the next day.

missing piece

TINH Scully always thought she'd find Mulder alive or die first-- now she can no longer live in denial and must be ripped open.

liveonthesun's Now She Has No Choice

S8 ISTJ understands Mulder's goldfish while dreaming of him and processing her anger at his absence.

CaptainLyssa's

Mrs. Spooky Mulder - CaptainLyssa - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own] 

Scully is fuming-- a conference full of agents are convinced she and Mulder are dating, and his antics do not help at all. Finally, she just lets them say whatever they want; but her vomiting from a stress headache do not help matters. (I end ~Chapter 5... dunno why.)

Casper, Wyoming. - CaptainLyssa - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own] 

Post IWTB Mulder moves he and Scully to Casper, Wyoming; and she is furious when she realizes Will lives here as well. He didn't know, all is forgiven, and they end up adopting their own son at last.

Shopping - CaptainLyssa - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own] 

AU Psychic Family-- Scully and her children are observed by a stranger, who can't quite puzzle how her whole family seem to be psychic... but that's ridiculous, isn't it?

Eating Out - CaptainLyssa - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own] 

AU Psychic Family-- Mulder, Scully, and their precocious children are trying to retain a shred of normalcy while having a nice family outing.

simpletumbleweedfarmer's As Long As You're Right Here - simpletumbleweedfarmer - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own] 

Requiem Scully as a dream that Mulder had been taken, and cries it out in his motel room. It's, of course, realized soon after.

todaymyheartleapt's Swiss Omega - todaymyheartleapt - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own] 

Pre-Vienen Scully wore Mulder's watch while he was gone.

sisterspooky's The Artist Currently Known As Fox Mulder - sisterspooky (Livylovestabler) - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own] 

Revival Mulder is happy that he and Scully are in sync, singing a song until she catches on and strikes a deal.

@suitablyaggrieved/ScullyLovesQueequeg's

Day 17 - This Is Going To Hurt - ScullyLovesQueequeg - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own] 

Mulder is shot on the job; but he convinces his superiors-- and Scully-- to let him go back and continue to talk down the suspect.

Something's Gotta Give - ScullyLovesQueequeg - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own] 

Scully is swamped with Valentine's Day chocolates. Mulder descends into jealousy, stealing her candy here and there.

7. You’ve gone to the bathroom fifty times today.... - Post Tenebras Lux (tumblr.com) Ao3 Day 2 - You've Gone to The Bathroom 50 Times Today - Chapter 1 - ScullyLovesQueequeg - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own] 

Post Never Again Mulder can't help but notice that Scully keeps running off to the bathroom, finally following her in and carefully asking her questions. Scully negates his suspicions, telling him her own.

Funeral For A Friend - ScullyLovesQueequeg - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own]  

AU-- Gethsemane Mulder died. Scully attended his funeral.

The Reticulan Roadhouse - ScullyLovesQueequeg - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own] 

Post Dreamland II Mulder and Scully eat at the Reticulan Roadhouse, neither of them acknowledging its date-ness even when Mulder gifts his partner a pair of beautiful earrings.

Avoidable Feast - ScullyLovesQueequeg - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own] 

Mulder and Scully are dating, and the two's lack of communication almost costs them the first Thanksgiving they wanted to celebrate together.

Day 20 - There's Nothing Wrong With You - ScullyLovesQueequeg - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own] 

Scully is surprised that, while melodramatic, Mulder is actually sick; and lures her boyfriend over with a clean house.

Holiday Apologies - ScullyLovesQueequeg - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own] 

Post IWTB Mulder slowly readjusts to family holidays, visibly slipping into depression. Bill observes him; and buries the hatchet.

thespookyvariation's Letters - Chapter 1 - thespookyvariation - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own]

Post S9 Mulder and Scully read the letters each other had written during their darkest days-- his loss during her abduction and her fear during her cancer.

Enjoy!

[darkesttimelinestuff]

"Are you with me?"

Day 5 of Fictober and I'm still going!

Prompt #30 - "Are you with me?"

Find me on Ao3.

She doesn’t visit her mother’s house often. It’s too difficult with her busy schedule. She and Mulder are out of town more often than she’d like to admit. One of these days she’s going to ask him to slow down. Find more local cases. Their caseload and required travel isn’t sustainable for the long-term.

But, for now, she has to admit that there is a certain thrill to their work. She has witnessed things she never thought possible. And Mulder is a damn good partner. She even enjoys spending time with him on the weekends, which they’ve been doing very often recently. This thing between them, this electricity, keeps growing.

And her mom is out of town more and more. Matthew, though clear across the country, is taking up a good portion of Maggie’s time and love. Who can blame her? He’s wonderful. He is the innocence Dana Scully has sworn to protect. 

“Thanks for coming with me,” Scully says to Mulder. 

“Sure thing. I couldn’t let you clear out Maggie’s basement alone.”

“It’s actually not as much junk as I would have thought.”

The dusty boxes are piled almost one Dana Scully high. Which isn’t saying much.

“Accumulating stuff is hard when you move so much,” he says.

Scully considers this, wiping sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. “I suppose that’s true. ‘Only bring what you need,’ my dad always said. It’s rare we stayed anywhere longer than a year.”

“Must bring a whole new meaning to what home is,” Mulder muses. 

“Home was family and a temporary place to sleep. The four walls or the location didn’t matter much,” she says matter of factly. 

Mulder looks away and she wonders what home means to Mulder. They rarely talk about his family. Besides Samantha.

“So, which box do you want to unearth next?” Mulder prompts and Scully points to a large one nearest her. “You can get started on that while I load these Goodwill bags in the car.”

He ascends the stairs and Scully opens the box, gasping at its contents. She carefully pulls out each item and places them nearly on a nearby table. These are precious objects she hasn’t seen in years. Artifacts of her life with Missy.

When Mulder reappears and says, “Your mom is asking if you want pizza delivery or a sit-down restaurant. Any preference?” she doesn’t hear. 

“Hey, Scully. Scully! Are you with me?” he tries again, giving her shoulder a shake.

“Oh!” she startles. “Yes. Sorry. What?”

“You were a million miles away. Everything okay?” 

He eyes the contents on the table that have a hold on Scully. There are ancient bell bottoms and several shirts from a by-gone era, a set of tarot cards and diaries with little locks, a pillow with a large flower pattern, a ouija board, and a small gray bag. 

“Missy’s things,” she says weakly. “I uh… I thought we donated all of her things. I guess we missed this box. Mom must have thought it was mine since it was in this pile and uh…”

Mulder places a hand on her back and it steadies her. Grounds her mind and her heart. She is able to think more logically.

“I’m sorry. It must have been a surprise.”

“I certainly wasn’t expecting it.”

“What’s in the gray bag?”

She smiles and reaches for the drawstring bag, weighing it in her palm. Its contents rattle. 

“These were Missy’s gemstones and crystals,” she replies, spilling them into her palm. An array of colored stones cover her small hand. “Most are said to be imbued with energy for self-love and protection.”

Mulder made a noncommittal hum. She was probably informing him of things he already knew, but he stared at her and the gems with such an intensity. It meant the world to her. 

“And every full moon Melissa would put the crystals on our window sill to charge them. I teased her every month.”

Scully wiped a lone tear from her eye. 

Mulder didn’t say anything, just sat with her for as long as she needed. They were quiet for a long time. 

Finally, Scully said, “We should finish. I’m starting to get hungry.”

“Do you want to keep this box?” Mulder asked kindly. 

Shaking her head, Scully said, “No, that’s fine. We can donate everything. But I’ll keep the crystals. There’s a full moon tonight.”

[skelavender]

Mulder’s eyes are locked on Scully. Living, breathing Scully, who is not in a hospital bed. Instead, Modell is the one who lay dying in front of them, head bandaged and tubes pumping oxygen and whatever else into his body.  He reaches for her hand and takes it in his own. She doesn’t grab him back, but allows for the touch. “I say we dont let him take up another minute of our time.” Scully squeezes his hand. “Come on, sweetheart, let's go home.”

read chapter two of shelter on ao3, or below the cut!

February 1996

“Mine or yours?“

Mulder looks up to see Scully lingering by the door with her long jacket folded over her arm, clearly on her way out. 

“Mine,” he answers simply, “I’ll head out soon, I want to finish reading this first. I should be back by the time you get there if you’re stopping at home first. You have your key?”

“Yes. See you soon, Mulder.” She offers a smile, and she’s gone. 

It’s become a habit, staying at each other’s houses. They’re both sleeping much better, and are therefore less likely to take mid-workday naps. 

After Scully had shown up in the middle of the night, Mulder had invested in a bed. Crazy concept. If Scully was going to keep showing up to sleep – which, apparently, she was – he wasn’t going to make her do so on the floor or couch. 

She does beat him to his place, despite stopping by her own apartment to shower first, and when Mulder enters he is greeted by the smell of vanilla — the body scrub Scully uses at the end of a particularly long week. Given the case they’re in the middle of, he thinks it’s warranted. 

Between the disaster of Modell’s arraignment, Holly attacking Skinner, and the deaths of multiple law enforcement officers, things had been stressful to say the least. Mulder was happy to be guaranteed a solid night’s sleep tonight, thanks to Scully’s company. 

He knows Scully needs both the proximity and the rest just as much as he does. When they had been informed that Modell had pulled Mulder’s file, she had immediately been most concerned about him having Mulder’s address. He could basically see the images flashing in her mind, Modell invading his home like Eugene Tooms and Duane Barry had through hers. She wasn’t going to leave him alone right now, and he didn’t exactly cherish the idea either. There was no point in avoiding the apartment, though. If Modell wanted to find them, he would.

Scully’s in the kitchen, pajama-clad and leaning over a steaming pizza. She turns to greet him with a soft smile, “Hey.”

“Hey,” he replies, “If that’s from Caprotti’s, I might have to marry you. Again.”

“You better dig your tux out then.”

Mulder slides his hand onto her lower back when he approaches her, “God, you’re the best.” He lays a kiss on her temple before grabbing a slice. 

They eat over the counter, chatting idly around the real concerns for their safety. Eventually they crawl into bed, Mulder on the right, Scully on the left, as always. They fall asleep with hands clasped in the space between their bodies, holding on for dear life. 

***

Here’s what the gossip mill of the FBI, with all their teasing names and idolization of profiling skills, doesn’t know about Fox Mulder: he’s a fucking klutz. 

Even Scully didn’t notice it until she started spending significant time at either of their homes with him. He takes his contact lenses out as soon as he gets home, but only remembers to put his glasses on to compensate for the fact half the time. The result is many bruises blooming on limbs that have bumped into furniture, door frames, hell, even Scully had acted as an accidental obstacle on more than a couple occasions. 

At the moment, the both of them sitting against the headboard of Scully’s bed as they wind down for bed, Mulder has miraculously managed to get a pair of glasses on his face. However, the pair he’s squinting through while trying to read the book propped against his knees aren’t his own. 

They’re Scully’s.

Her backup pair, that is. The ones from a couple years ago, which are out of style and the prescription is slightly too weak. That means, of course, that they are far too weak for Mulder. Hence the squinting. She doubts that he’s even managing to read any words on the page. Not that Scully's any more focused – she keeps glancing up to the mirror across from her bed to look at Mulder, to take in his relaxed posture, the furrow between his brows, the press of his lips together. 

She doesn’t know how they got so… domesticated, so comfortable in each other’s presence that they can just borrow each other’s stuff with such ease. She loves it. 

Her eyes run down the reflection of Mulder’s neck, his arms, how his fingers are curled around the book. As if he can feel her gaze dance across his skin, he squirms, revealing a patch of skin just below his elbow. A very purple patch of skin.

She turns to him, “Did you bump into the doorframe again?”

“Hm?” Mulder tears his eyes off the book and looks at her through her own glasses.

“Your arm,” She gestures to him, “Did you hit it on the doorframe again?”

“Oh,” he twists his arm and looks down at it. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

“Let me see.” She places the bookmark on the relevant page and sets it on her nightstand before opening her hand to summon Mulder’s elbow. He offers it, and she inspects the skin. 

“I don’t know how you manage to do this to yourself so often,” Scully murmurs.

“I swear, Scully, they move. We ought to open an X-file on the ever-changing layout of doorways in the DC area.”

She shakes her head with an affectionate smile, and pivots to rustle through her nightstand drawer. She removes a tube of arnica she had started keeping there for this exact reason, and reclaims Mulder’s elbow.

“Scully, it’s fine, really.” He protests, but doesn’t reclaim possession of his elbow.

“Which one of us has a medical degree, Mulder? Let me help.” She squirts an appropriate amount of gel onto her own index and middle fingers, rubs them against her thumb to decrease the sting of the cold, and applies it to Mulder’s arm. She lets her fingers dance in circles across his skin until the stickiness has faded, and she can’t justify the contact any further. 

When her eyes lift to reach his again, he’s already staring at her. “Thanks, Scully.”

“Of course. Anytime.”

“About time for lights-out?”

“That sounds good.”

They both turn off their bedside lamps, and settle into the bed. Within minutes they’ve met in the middle of the bed, and Scully doesn’t bother trying to find an excuse to touch him. 

***

Mulder’s eyes are locked on Scully. Living, breathing Scully, who is not in a hospital bed. Instead, Modell is the one who lay dying in front of them, head bandaged and tubes pumping oxygen and whatever else into his body. 

He reaches for her hand and takes it in his own. She doesn’t grab him back, but allows for the touch.

“I say we dont let him take up another minute of our time.” Scully squeezes his hand. “Come on, sweetheart, let's go home.”

Over the years, they’ve started referring to just about anywhere as home. “Mulder, let’s go home” could mean a motel room, DC, his place, her place, the office, anything. He’s not sure which home she means, but he knows wherever they end up, home will be an apt descriptor. As long as Scully is there. 

Scully all but pulls him out of the hospital room, leading him by the contact of their hands. They walk all the way to the car with their hands linked, and don’t let go until they need to.

Home, as Scully had used it, turns out to be his apartment. Mulder lays awake with his partner in his arms, mind racing. 

He had almost killed her. There was a bullet in the chamber and his finger on the trigger, and he had almost killed Scully. His partner. His wife. 

There would have been no going back from that. 

He thinks it must have been intentional, Modell must have put the bullet in the third chamber knowing he would make Mulder turn it on Scully, shoot her, kill her. He wanted to do as much damage to Mulder as he could on his way out, and knew exactly how to do it. Mulder would never be able to live with that guilt. He would, and did, sooner point the gun at his own head than Scully’s.

Instead, Modell would be the one spending the rest of his life in a hospital bed with a bullet in his head, the one meant for Scully. 

He hadn’t hesitated when Modell told him to turn the gun on himself, but the potential of losing Scully, the potential of being the one responsible for ripping her from this world, had made him strong enough to resist. That, and Scully’s encouragement, her unwavering faith that he would be able to shake Modell’s influence. 

There hadn’t been any doubt, per se, in his mind that he loved her before this whole ordeal. But such a close brush with death, just those few minutes of sharp, intense fear of having to live in a world without her… it was some of the worst pain he’d been in. Some of the worst grief. The same, bone-deep and all-consuming pain that Samantha’s absence had brought. To have such a large, gaping hole inside him, nowhere for the love to land. It’s a very different type of relationship, yes, but the grief tastes the same.

Mulder’s fingers dance across Scully’s hair and he lets the repeated motion, along with her consistent breathing, soothe him. She’s alive. She’s alive, and she’s in his arms. He can see that she’s safe, feel her breath against his shirt, press his palm to her back and let it rise and fall with her. He just can’t get the what-ifs out of his head. 

He shudders, and holds his partner tighter. Unconscious, she does the same. 

***

When Mulder wakes a couple days later, Scully is already awake with her head on his chest, eyes open and staring off into space. His face is buried in her hair, and he presses a kiss there to let her know he’s awake. 

“Hey,” Her voice is floaty, absent. Like she’s thought so hard it’s brought her into another world. 

“Hey.” He lets the silence stretch for a moment. “What’s got you thinking so hard?”

Scully bites her lip, hesitant to tell him about the idea she’s been rolling over in her mind, the one she’s been trying and failing to talk herself out of. “I’m not sure this is… sustainable.”

Mulder tenses under her. He is so, so not ready to have a potential divorce conversation. “You mean our, uh…”

“What?” She lifts up on her elbow to look at him, and reads his face plain and clear. “Oh, no, Mulder, not like that. I mean staying over every night, alternating apartments.”

“Oh, sorry, I’ll, uh, get out of your hair–” He shifts to slip out from under her and get out of bed, but she stops him with a hand to his arm.

“Not like that.” They settle back into their spots, Scully’s head on Mulder’s chest. Her voice is shaky when she confesses, “I sleep better with you closeby, and I think you do too. I want to continue that, I just…” She takes a deep breath and takes the plunge, “What do you think about moving in together?”

“Oh.” Mulder’s a bit floored by that. This conversation was going in the complete opposite of the direction he was expecting. The silence stretches for a moment while he considers it.

“What’re you thinking, Mulder?” 

“Well we could save a lot of money on rent if we moved into a two bedroom.”

“And on phone bills.” Scully reasons. 

“And we could carpool – save on gas.”

“Mhmm,” Scully affirms. They’re both quiet for a moment, mulling it over, before she continues, “So, mine or yours? Or somewhere else?”

“Somewhere else, I think. Something fresh. Are you married to Georgetown?”

“I’m married to you.”

He smiles at that. He’s not looking at her, so he doesn't see the open wound of sincerity in her eyes.

Scully continues, “Alexandria is fine. It’s cheaper. We’re being… pragmatic.”

“Pragmatic… yeah.”

“Reasonable.”

“Mhmm.”

“So,” she lifts her head to look at him again, “Do you want to get the paper to look through the listings, or should I?”

<- previous chapter next chapter ->

[riderwrites]

Mulder had just wanted to go to an NFL game. When a case took place in the same location as a game, he scooped it up on that thought alone. He needed to get out of town, he and Scully needed to get out of town. Mulder knew he could have the case solved in fifteen minutes, hell he had figured it out from the case file alone. White male, mommy issues, probably some burnout. Easy. Mulder was looking up seats before Scully came into his office that morning.  

She didn’t seem off as Mulder clicked for the 40-yard line, grabbed his coat, and pushed out the door before she even set her bag down. He gave her the gist on the car ride to the airport, went over the finer points as he bought them overpriced airport food, and was flipping through stats from an even pricer sports magazine that labeled the Viking’s chances for a win as a kinder word than shit. It was going to be easy, Mulder wanted something simple for a change, something he had control over. When the desk called their boarding number, Mulder grabbed Scully’s things with a smirk that got him an eye roll and they headed off to board the plane.  

“Oo, back seat,” Mulder said, grimacing at his ticket.  

“Well, that’s the safest part of the plane, Mulder,” Scully said as she moved down the aisle in front of him. “God knows what we’d do without the leading expert on the supernatural if this plane went down.”  

Mulder smiled as he tried not to trip in the small, confined place. “I think that would have more fans than you might think.”  

“This is mine,” Scully said, stopping at her aisle where an older man and a bored 30-something were sitting. Mulder reached up to open the overhead carrier and put Scully’s suitcase in it. He exaggerated the weight, shooting her a pained glance as he did.  

“How many pantsuits are in this thing?” Mulder said.  

“Haha, very funny,” Scully said as she stepped into her aisle seat. “Not all of us can wear the same suit and tie combination four days in a row and have no one notice.” She looked him over. “You’re going to be okay in the back?”  

Mulder lifted his Sports Illustrated. “I’ll be able to keep myself entertained.”  

Scully rolled her eyes. “We’ll see about that.”  

She turned to make her way to her window seat when one of the other passengers made to stand, looking between them.  

“I can trade seats if you want to sit next to your husband,” He offered to Scully. Scully chuckled and looked down at her feet.  

“We just work together, but thank you,” Scully said. Mulder smirked to himself when he saw the look on the younger guy change. From the “she’s married to this big blocke” to her to “the pretty woman is available.” Mulder, conscious of the line forming behind them, leaned in quick to say.  

“She’ll second guess everything you say and she’s usually right. I’d stay clear.” Mulder heard Scully’s sigh as he made his way to his seat, settling in for the long flight.  

“How was your date?” Mulder teased as the two of them rejoined at the terminal. Scully smiled at him, the sun peeking out of the gray, midwestern sky behind her.  

“Oh, it was wonderful,” Scully replied. “I invited him to come to the NFL game with us.”  

“We only have two tickets.”  

“I figured I’d get you another magazine and you’d wait in the car, Mulder,” Scully replied, shooting him one of her smug expressions when she says something she thinks is clever. Of course, Mulder would laugh, nudge her shoulder with his and they’d be on their way to baggage claim. Mulder grinned at the easy banter. The flight had been more boring than he expected, he had regretted not playing house and sitting next to her.  

read the rest here!

[thatfragilecapricorn30]

confession

msr, teen | 1k words | ao3 | @xfilesbingo prompt "confession" | tagging @today-in-fic

Mulder and Scully stumbled into his apartment, dripping wet, and immediately began shucking off articles of clothing. It was Mulder’s bright idea to pick up their food in a torrential downpour, instead of having it delivered, because he wanted to go to Blockbuster too. And of course Scully had to accompany him to ensure that Mulder actually picked a decent movie for once. She wasn’t interested in his obscure sci fi films, though it had been awhile since they had actually finished a movie. Usually, one of them had a better idea in mind of how they could spend their evening, and easily enticed the other away from the screen, which Scully couldn’t deny was definitely more fun than watching TV.

Once boots, jackets, umbrellas were all left in a damp heap on the floor, Mulder grabbed the food and the video to bring into the living room, while Scully continued to shake her head like a dog to dislodge the water in her ears. Even after being inside for a few minutes, she was still shivering from the cold rain and contemplated retrieving her go bag that was always kept in the trunk of her car. When Scully was first assigned to the X-Files, she very quickly learned that she would be jet setting across the country at a moment’s notice, so she started keeping a change of clothes and a travel toothbrush in her car for convenience's sake.

Mulder must have read her mind, because he called from the living room, “Go steal something of mine to wear,” which sounded much better than going back out in the storm. Scully went to scavenge for some sweatpants and maybe his Knicks jersey if she was lucky. She loved the well-worn shirt. Honestly she enjoyed wearing Mulder’s clothes - even though they were huge on her - because they were very soft and warm and often smelled like him. Scully also knew how much Mulder liked seeing her in his clothes. So possessive, she thought fondly while rolling her eyes, as she started looking through his dresser.

Even though Scully had spent a lot of time at Mulder’s, she wasn’t exactly sure which drawer contained sweatpants. Leave it to Mulder to have no organization system and just have random clothes shoved in together. It was a wonder that he was able to get dressed at all. This weekend Scully was going to stage an intervention over the state of his wardrobe. Mulder would hate it but she’d make it worth his while, and she greatly enjoyed the fact that she could do that now. While Scully was rummaging through one of the middle drawers, her fingers closed on a velvet box. She pulled it out and stared at it, feeling shocked.

“Scully, did you get lost in the closet?” she heard Mulder yell from outside the room.

She knew exactly what kind of box it was and opening it up confirmed it. She only got a small glimpse of the jewelry before Mulder was in the doorway. She looked up at him and his expression turned into his “panic” face when he noticed what she was holding.

“Something you want to confess, Mulder?” she asked, trying to joke but ended up sounding serious.

“You weren’t supposed to find that,” he said.

Scully snapped the list closed. She wasn’t sure what he meant by that.

Off her expression, Mulder amended, “You weren’t supposed to find that yet.”

“Is this for me?” she asked, her voice only coming out as a whisper.

“No, it’s for my other girlfriend. I see her on the nights I’m not with you,” he said with a smile, but Scully didn’t laugh.

He sighed, “Of course it’s for you. I’ve actually had it for a while but I didn’t want to scare you away and I was hoping to find the right moment and make it really special…”

“Special?” she asked. This came as a surprise. Scully had always been simple when it came to relationships and she thought Mulder was the same way. She didn’t care about fancy things or big declarations of love. The little moments were more important to her.

“Yeah, special. Like fireworks and a mariachi band and champagne.”

Now Scully laughed. “Mulder, be real.”

He moved to sit on the bed and Scully joined him. “I am. Well, not about the fireworks and mariachi band but I really was going to ask you in a nice way.”

She took his hand and squeezed. “I’m sure whatever you came up with would have been great. But for the record, I don’t expect or need anything like that. Getting to be with you is already special.”

Mulder pulled his hand away, only to put his arm around her and pull her close. “That’s why I love you. Because that’s how you think. But you deserve a lot more.”

Scully could feel Mulder’s pulse racing where she was leaning against his chest. She wondered if he was nervous about asking her. Did he really not know how she felt about him? Scully decided to lay the issue to rest.

“Mulder,” Scully said, still curled up against him. “The answer is yes.”

Mulder pulled back to look into her eyes and when he realized she was serious, his timid smile changed to the biggest, goofiest grin she had ever seen.

“Scully, I haven’t even asked you yet,” he stated playfully.

She leaned up to kiss him briefly. “But now you don’t have to worry about my answer. I’ll be waiting for something really spectacular now, though.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked as he kissed her more. He pushed her back on the bed. “Something like this?”

“This is a good start,” Scully said breathlessly.

She wouldn’t be needing those sweatpants now.

[atths--twice]

Art in All Its Forms

Fox Mulder and Dana Scully, neighbors and friends, find that they each have been wanting more and this Christmas they will get all they have wished for.

Fox heard the slow jingle of the bells on her shoes and he smiled. Putting his paintbrush down onto the easel, he walked to the door and opened it just as Dana reached the top step. Sighing as she looked up at him, her long puffy coat lying over her arm, she took off her Santa hat and shook her head. 

“How you doing?” he asked, though he could see the answer on her face. 

“I keep telling myself: It’s only three more days. You can make it. But then, I think… ugh, it’s three more days and I don’t know if I can.” 

“You can,” he said with a chuckle. “You want to come in for a drink?” 

“God, I would love that,” she answered and walked into his apartment. 

He stared at the back of her, at the silly elf costume she had been wearing for the past three weeks, and he smiled. She might slap him for it, but he thought she looked absolutely adorable in the costume, especially the drawn on freckles decorating her face and the wide-eyed look created by her eye makeup. 

She was simply adorable. 

“What would you like? Pick your poison.” 

“Whatever you have will be fine with me,” she said as she took off the backpack she wore and dropped it and her coat onto the floor. Collapsing onto the couch with a heavy sigh, she tossed her Santa hat onto the coffee table. 

“Sure you don’t have any preference?” 

“Nah, I don’t care.” 

In the kitchen, he poured them each a small glass of scotch, bringing it out to her as she yawned and settled further into the couch. 

“Thank you,” she said softly, taking the glass from him, sitting back again, and closing her eyes. “Today was rough. Two kids threw up, causing others to gag and throw up. It was so disgusting, I nearly vomited.” She took a sip of the scotch and made a face, coughing a little. 

“Is it too much?” 

“No, it’s fine. It’s just me.” She coughed again before she took another sip, able to keep from coughing this time. “See, no problem.” He laughed and sat in the chair beside her, watching her drinking with her eyes closed. 

Her long red hair was in two braids tonight and tied at the end with candy cane striped bows. She had her feet up on the coffee table, her jingly shoes off, her stockinged toes wiggling. 

“If I didn’t need the money, I would quit tonight. But a girl’s gotta eat, right?” she said with a sigh. 

“And pay the bills and the rent,” he replied, his lips quirking up in a smile. 

“Don’t remind me,” she whined. She opened her eyes and stared at him. “Why is being an adult so difficult? And expensive?” 

“That’s life, Toots,” he said and she groaned, closing her eyes again as she took another sip of her drink. 

“You know,” she said with a sigh. “I can handle the kids. I can handle the screaming and crying because they’re over stimulated, over warm, doing something different in an unknown environment so they’re bound to cry and kick up a fuss. But the parents…” She shook her head and opened her eyes again. “Especially the moms. Some of them are the absolute worst. They talk as if we aren’t there or they do see us and demand more for their sitting because little Timmy deserves more than “that tacky backdrop. Don’t you have something else to choose from?” Bitch, this is the North Pole. We’re in Santa’s workshop office. That’s the fucking scene.” She waved her hand around in exasperation and Fox chuckled as she shook her head. 

“That was way too specific. Did that happen today too?” 

“Yesterday,” she said, sighing deeply. “Patricia didn’t feel that it was good enough for her children. “Everyone else has that backdrop. It will be in everyone’s picture. What can you do to make mine stand out? I’ll pay more. Money is no object.” I was about ready to scream at her, but her children were so excited to see Santa, I couldn’t ruin that for them.” 

“You’re an elf, of course you couldn’t,” he said and she smiled as she took another drink. “Did you also tell her that it’s not a backdrop or something interchangeable, but it’s a scene specifically set up to create an atmosphere of Christmas?” 

“Pfft,” she said, shaking her head. “You think she would have heard any of that? That she would have cared? She’s Patricia Draper.” 

“Who’s that?” he asked with a smile. 

“How the fuck should I know?!” she asked, throwing a hand up in the air as he laughed. She shook her head and took another drink. “But… as much as it’s bad, it’s good. I love to see the excitement in the children’s eyes when they get closer. Watch them jump up and down or dance with happiness. I love to see the older ones telling their siblings about when they were little and seeing Santa for the first time. I love the shy children who perk up and tell Santa what they want for Christmas. And oh…” She shook her head and smiled. “The babies…” 

“Babies?” 

“Mmhmm. They’re my favorite. The little girls dressed in velvet dresses or as angels. The boys in little suits with bow ties or suspenders. Oh my god… one little boy had both and it was just… so adorable.” She smiled as her eyes saw things he could not and he smiled back. “Paul, I mean Santa, is so good with all of them. He’s gentle and slow and talks to them quietly. He’s the best Santa. He really seems like the real deal.” 

“What are you saying right now?” Fox said in a quiet voice. “Are you saying he’s not the real Santa? I’m… I can’t… What?!” 

“Shut up,” she said, tossing a couch pillow at him. He caught it and she shook her head. “You knew what I meant.”

“Maybe.” 

“Hmm,” she hummed, nodding as she looked down at her drink. Raising it to her lips, she finished it in one gulp. Breathing in deeply, she let it out and placed the glass on the coffee table as she stood up and stretched. “I need to bathe, eat something, and go to bed. Maybe eat first, but those three things. I’m exhausted. Thanks for the drink and letting me vent. I’ll get my jingle toes out of here now.” 

“You’re welcome,” he said, standing as well and picking up her Santa hat. “Don’t forget this.” She stared at him and he smiled as he placed it on her head, laying the pointed bit down with the white pom pom beside her left ear. “Ahh, there we go.” 

“Three more days,” she breathed, closing her eyes. “Just three more days.” 

“Nearly there,” he said and she sighed as she opened her eyes. 

Putting on her shoes, she picked up her backpack and coat and walked towards the door, her shoes jingling with every step. 

She opened the door and stepped through it with another sigh. She walked to her apartment directly across from his, stopped at her door, and turned around. 

“Will you do me a favor?” she asked and he nodded. “Can you call me in thirty minutes to make sure I haven’t fallen asleep in the tub?” 

“Sure,” he said with a chuckle. 

“I’m just so tired.” 

“Setting the timer now,” he said and she nodded. 

“Good man. Goodnight.” 

“Goodnight, Jingle Toes.” 

She smiled and shook a leg as she unlocked the door and he chuckled again. She waved as she closed the door and he did the same.  

Setting a timer on his phone, he called her when it rang and she answered with a sleepy voice, promising him her bath was done and she was going to eat and sleep. 

“Thank you for calling though,” she said, yawning as he heard the fridge opening and closing. 

“Thanks for asking.” 

“Hmm,” she hummed and he smiled. 

“Goodnight again, JT,” he teased and she laughed softly. 

“Night.” 

_____________

Glancing at his watch, he waited at the door for the sound of Dana leaving for work, a tumbler of coffee held in his hands. When he heard her, he let out a breath and opened his own door. 

“Good morning,” he said softly as she turned and began walking towards him. 

“It’s morning. That’s for sure,” she said, putting her keys in the pocket of her long puffy coat. “I’m still tired, but the walk will definitely wake me up.” 

“If it doesn’t, this might help,” he said, offering her the tumbler. “Dark roast, teaspoon of sugar, cinnamon flavored cream added until it reached a light tan color.” 

“You fabulous human being,” she said, taking the cup from him and taking a long sniff. “God, it smells delicious.” She took a sip and moaned as her eyes closed. “It’s perfect.” 

“Good. That should help you this morning.” 

“Better than the coffee at the diner.” 

“Obviously,” he agreed with a snort and she laughed through her nose as she opened her eyes and took another drink. “So today you’ll be at the diner, then onto being an elf?” 

“Yup,” she said with a nod. “Got my costume in my backpack. What about you? You’re at the art gallery today?” 

“I will be later, yeah. Gotta help at the exhibition tonight and then tomorrow morning, I’ll start setting up for mine.” 

“I’m so excited to see what you’ve done this time. The last show was great. I loved the wildflower painting you did. Every time I looked at it that night, I felt like I was in the field amongst the flowers.” She closed her eyes, smiling as she swayed slightly. “Like I was a small fairy or an animal with the beautiful flowers surrounding me.” 

“With those jingle bells on your shoes, you’d have fit right in as a fairy for sure,” he teased and she opened her eyes, her smile growing as she shook her backpack and the shoes inside of it jingled faintly. “See? Tinkerbell herself would approve.” She smiled and nodded as she took another sip of coffee. 

“Okay. My jingle toes and fairy wings have to get going. I won’t see you tonight, but good luck with your endeavors today. Thank you for the coffee.” She tipped the tumbler at him and he smiled with a nod. 

“You’re most welcome. Enjoy your day.” 

“I shall aim to do my best, but there’s people out there.” She raised her eyebrows and he laughed with a nod. “Thank you again. See you tomorrow.” 

“Yeah,” he said with a nod as she started towards the stairs. “Tomorrow.” She waved as she walked down the stairs, humming We Wish You A Merry Christmas. With another laugh, he went inside to get ready for his day. 

______________

He missed her the next morning, his night running late. When he opened his eyes and saw it was already half past nine, he jumped out of bed, his heart and mind racing. 

Tomorrow was his showing and he felt that he still had so much to do. Taking a quick shower, he was getting dressed when he looked at his phone for the first time. There were two messages from Dana and he grinned when he saw them. 

One was a gif of a tired little girl not wanting to wake up and he understood how she felt. 

The other message had him hurrying to the door. 

Good morning. I came home exhausted and then had a second wind. I got a craving for cranberry oatmeal muffins and so I made some before I crashed for the night. I left some for you on your doorstep, along with your travel tumbler. Alas, there is no coffee inside, but it is clean. Hope the muffins help to sustain you through the day. See you tonight? 🤞🏼

Opening his door, he saw a paper lunch bag inside of a plastic bag sitting on his welcome mat. He grinned as he picked it up and brought it inside. 

“Oh…” he exclaimed when he saw the four muffins had thin strips of white icing crisscrossed along the top. He took a bite and closed his eyes as he hummed. “Delicious. Absolutely delicious.” 

Filling his tumbler with coffee, he set it and a muffin aside as he finished getting ready. 

As he was leaving, he sent a quick text of thanks, knowing it would be awhile before she saw it. The diner was always busy, but especially early in the morning. 

Thanks for the muffins. They’re delicious. Exactly what I needed for today. 

I’ll be home late tonight. If you’re up for some company, I’m game. I’ll text you when I’m home. If I don’t hear back, I’ll know you’ve succumbed to the mistress we call sleep. Either way, I’ll definitely see you tomorrow evening. 🎨🖼️

Smiling as he pressed send, he grabbed his things and headed out the door. 

________________

“Fox?” 

“Yes?” 

“Could I steal you away for a moment?” 

“Of course.”

He smiled as he stepped away from the painting he had just hung up and turned to Marilee Miles, the owner of the small art gallery in which his exhibit would take place. 

She was “dressed down” for the day, as she liked to say, in a flowing aqua floral kaftan, her graying hair tied in a silky matching bandana. Her many golden bangles sounded as she walked around in her black ballet flats. She was a character and he really liked her. 

“What can I help you with, Marilee?” 

“I just wanted to double check your guest list. You only have one person on it. You can invite more you know. However many you like,” she said, looking down at the clipboard she held. “In fact, it’s the same person you had last time. Just the one?” 

“I don’t really have others close by. And honestly, she’s the only one I really want. The opinion I hold highest.” He smiled and Marilee looked at him over her half moon glasses. “Not that I don’t value your opinion, Marilee. It’s not that at all.” He shook his head and she smiled. 

“Of course not, dear boy,” she said with a chuckle, shaking her head and causing the large gold earrings she was wearing to move. “I know what you mean. I just wanted to be sure that you knew you could have more people if you’d like.” 

“I’m good with just her.” 

“Hmm,” Marilee hummed, writing something down on her clipboard. “Okay. She’s on the list. Stop by my office before you leave, okay?” 

“You got it.” 

Marilee nodded and smiled at him. Glancing at the artwork in her sight, she nodded again. 

“I really like these. You did so well with them.” 

“Thank you,” he said. “I enjoyed working on them.” 

“My office. Don’t forget.” 

“I won’t.” 

______________

Later than he had anticipated, he made his way up the stairs. He was tired, but very happy with how everything had come together. Tomorrow evening would be busy, but he felt confident that he would both enjoy his time and sell many of his paintings. 

“It’s Christmas Eve,” Marilee had said when they left and she had been locking up. “People tend to feel more giving on Christmas Eve. Exactly why I planned it that way. You make money, I make money. It’s a win-win.” 

“It is at that,” he had laughed and she had smiled. “See you tomorrow, Marilee.” 

“Merry Christmas Eve Eve, dear boy. See you tomorrow.” 

He smiled and then yawned as he reached the last step. Glancing at Dana’s door, he tapped the envelope he held in his hand against his other hand and debated approaching her door. He had said he would text her when he got home and she had sent back a screen effect of thumbs up emojis hours ago, but nothing since. 

He knew she was tired from working two jobs, but he also wanted to see her. Deciding on leaving her undisturbed, he walked quietly to her door, bent down and pushed the envelope through the small space between floor and door. 

Standing up, he walked to his door and waited for a second, watching to see if she would happen to see the envelope. When nearly a minute had passed, he unlocked his door and walked inside. 

_________ 

A soft knock woke him and he was surprised to discover that he had fallen asleep on the couch. Standing up, he groaned as he stretched and then yawned as he stumbled to the door. 

Dana stood on the other side of it, a smile on her face, her backpack on the ground behind her, and a gift wrapped in shiny green paper held in her hands. 

“Merry Christmas Eve,” she said and he smiled before yawning again. “However, this particular gift isn’t for Christmas. This is a happy exhibition day gift. You’ll get your other gift tomorrow on Christmas.” 

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” he said, taking the slim box from her and shaking his head. 

“I don’t wanna hear that. Of course I did. We’re friends, neighbors, confidants… People like that deserve a gift,” she said, fiddling with the zipper on her coat and rolling her eyes goodnaturedly. “This gift is a little…“wish you luck” present.” She shrugged and he nodded as he smiled. 

“Should I open it now?” 

“Uh… duh. Why do you think I’m still standing here? Rip that sucker open!” 

He laughed as he ripped the paper off the box and let it fall to the floor to be picked up later. Lifting the lid of the white box, he then pulled back the red tissue paper and his eyes widened. 

“Dana,” he said softly as he looked at the black tie with small white snowflakes. “This is… wait… what? Are these…?” 

“They’re cufflinks,” she said quietly. “Are they too much?” 

“No,” he said, taking one of the silver cufflinks out and looking at it. It was a palette with seven small spots for paint and three paint brushes stuck through the center. “I’ve never seen anything like it before. Where did you…” He looked at her and saw that her cheeks had become flushed and she was worrying the zipper on her coat again. “Please don’t tell me you’ve been working extra to pay for these or for the tie. I-”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ve been working extra simply to get ahead for the new year. I found those at the market on Third Street back in September. I was going to give them to you for your birthday, but since by then I knew you were doing the exhibit, I thought I would wait and they would be more fitting for today.” 

“I’ve never owned a pair of cufflinks.” 

“Never?” 

“No,” he said with a smile. 

“I know they’re usually more… reserved. But…” 

“Reserved wouldn’t fit for me.” 

“No,” she agreed with a laugh. “No, it wouldn’t.” 

“I…” He shook his head and looked at her. “Thank you. Truly. That…” He put the cufflink back and closed the box. Holding it tightly, he stepped closer and put his arms around her, pulling her in for a hug. 

It was not the first time he had hugged her, but it had definitely been awhile. He had forgotten how petite she truly was, her winter clothing hiding it well. She smelled like coconut and he smiled at the memory of her smelling the same when she had come over for a barbecue one hot summer night and she had danced past him on the way to the fridge to get each of them another beer. 

He had discovered that night that he really liked the scent of coconut. 

“Thank you,” he whispered, closing his eyes as he held her. “I really love them.” 

“You’re welcome,” she whispered back, her arms wrapped around his waist. “I hadn’t even planned to go to the market that day, but something was nagging at me to go. When I saw those I knew why.” 

“Fated,” he said with a quiet chuckle, pulling back and looking into her eyes. 

“Something like that,” she agreed, shrugging her shoulders. 

“Hmm,” he hummed, reaching up to brush a strand of hair off of her cheek. 

Her expression changed immediately and he felt her arms on his waist tighten. His eyes dropped to her lips and the desire to kiss her was overwhelming. 

But then her phone chimed and the moment was broken. She let go of him to get it from her pocket, her breath shaky as she exhaled. 

“I… I have to go. I set a timer for myself to be sure I left on time. The diner waits for no man. Or woman,” she said, silencing her phone. 

“Smart,” he said. She glanced at him and he smiled. “Hey, it’s your last day as an elf. Oh… I should have gotten you something.” 

“Turning the costume in at the end of my shift later will be gift enough for me,” she said, picking up her backpack and putting it on. “I’ve enjoyed and hated it equally. I’ll be so glad when I’m finally a free elf.” 

“Goodbye Jingle Toes. Hello Dobby,” he teased and she laughed. 

“Just about. Okay, I have to go. Not quite free yet, but in about thirteen hours… oh yeah. I’m glad you like your gifts.” 

“I love them,” he corrected her and she nodded. 

“I’ll see you later. Hopefully not too far into the evening. Bye,” she said with a wave and a smile. 

“Bye,” he said as she walked towards the stairs. 

“Oh,” she said, stopping on the top step, her eyes on her hand holding onto the railing. “Thank you for the invitation you dropped off last night. I know you had already asked and I am going, but it was a beautiful invitation and there’s something about being addressed as Miss Scully and knowing that I’ll be out at a fancy art gallery later this evening.” She looked at him and smiled. “It feels so grown up. And in a much better way than paying bills and rent.” 

“There'll also be free booze there,” he said, grinning at her. 

“Holy shit. I’m pretty sure you failed to mention that. I’m gonna be there as soon as humanly possible. No hanging around after elf hours.” 

“Good plan,” he said with a chuckle. “Thank you again for the gifts. See you later.” 

“Goodbye, Fox.”

“Bye, Dana.” 

He waved and she smiled as she continued down the stairs. He waited until she was out of sight before he picked up the paper from the floor and walked back inside.

__________________

The gallery was full of people, most of them from the wealthier parts of town, looking to find some new art for the holidays. They were dressed to the nines and in his new suit with the snowflake tie Dana had given him, knotted extra carefully, he felt as though he could almost pass as one of them. 

He felt inside the sleeve of his jacket and ran a finger over the cufflink and he smiled. Others there may have ones that cost more, but in his opinion, the ones Dana had given him were priceless. 

“Fox,” Marilee said, walking up to him with a glass of champagne in her hand. “Mr. Loen would like to speak to you about one of your paintings.” 

“Oh, great,” he said and she slipped her arm through his to lead him to said Mr. Loen. 

“He has his eye on Lincoln Street but so does Mrs. Sweets and I’ve never not seen that woman get what she wanted,” Marilee told him conspiratorially. “We’re about to up the ante.” 

“Let’s see what we can do,” he said quietly, nodding at a few people as they walked by. 

After he had spoken to Mr. Loen, which had drawn Mrs. Sweets over, prompting a bidding match which Mr. Loen had graciously bowed out from once his wife had called for him to see another painting, Fox stepped away to let Marilee handle the monetary transactions. 

He scanned the room, still not seeing Dana. He knew she would be later than the prompt start of seven, but it was nearly eight now and he was getting worried. 

As he glanced around, he turned and looked twice at the woman standing in front of his second favorite painting. She was wearing a short sleeved black dress that cinched at the waist with a thin belt and fell just below her knees and black heels that were past their fashion date, but looked perfect with her dress. Her red hair was done up in an elaborate looking knot that had a careless ease about it. 

“Dana?” he asked as he stepped closer and she turned around with a smile on her face. 

“Fox,” she said quietly, walking towards him and looking him up and down before she put her arms around his neck and hugged him. He closed his eyes briefly as he hugged her back, both of them letting go quickly. 

Two hugs in one day, he thought. I could get used to that.

“You look beautiful,” he said and she flushed as she gestured to him. 

“The tie suits you well. I didn’t want it to be too much of a design, but just enough.”

“You achieved it,” he said, smoothing his tie as she smiled. 

“And you have achieved this,” she said, looking around the room. “These are all so beautiful. I’ve seen some of them, or at least as works in progress, but…” She shook her head and smiled as she looked back at the painting behind her. “It’s the market, but at Christmas time.” 

“Yeah,” he said, looking at the painting. 

“It’s beautiful. Truly beautiful. The way you’ve captured the people and the stalls. The fairy lights. That one little girl with the ornament. The color of the sky. Oh… I love it.” 

“As much as the wildflower painting?” he teased and she laughed softly. 

“I don’t feel like a fairy holding on in the breeze, but it makes me feel warm and safe. Like… I’m a kid and the entire world is all at this one market. My own little corner of the world.” 

He smiled as he placed a hand on her back and he leaned closer to her, placing a kiss on her cheek. She looked at him in surprise, her eyes wide. 

“Thank you. I don’t think I could have been paid a higher compliment,” he said. 

“Oh, I’m sure… I’m sure someone could put it more eloquently.” 

“No, I don’t think so,” he whispered and even in the soft light, he saw her cheeks flush. “Come on, I’ll show you the rest.” He held out his hand and even though she appeared hesitant, she took it and he led her around the gallery. 

She sighed and gasped, stayed quiet, or had a lot to say about the different paintings, a glass of champagne held in her hand. So many other people had told him how they enjoyed his paintings, but her opinion was all that mattered to him. He loved experiencing what he created through her eyes, to discover the details that stood out to her. 

“Sold another,” Marilee said, coming up behind him and placing a red dot sticker on the wall beside First Snowfall. “It’s going so well.”

“Yeah,” he replied with a happy nod. 

“Hello again, Dana,” Marilee said, smiling at Dana. “You look very elegant tonight. I love your hair.” 

“Thank you,” Dana said. “A girl at work did it for me.” 

“It suits you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to grab some more red stickers.” She winked at them and Dana laughed. 

“I like her,” she said and Fox smiled. 

“Me too.” 

“Any more to see?” 

“A few more,” he said and she nodded, setting her empty glass down and taking his hand, gesturing for him to continue on. 

When they came around the corner of the last painting, his heart stopped beating for a second. 

“Oh that’s… I… wait…” She stepped closer, dropping his hand and letting out a breath. “It’s me… but not me me. Oh… Fox.” 

A coffee table took up a large portion of the painting. The point of view was from the front of it where a discarded Santa hat was on top of it as well as a pair of small striped stockinged feet, crossed at the ankle. There were also tiny little elves painted throughout doing day-to-day activities as though unfazed by the large world around them. 

Two elves were laughing, a male and female, and a barbecue with two steaks cooking on it stood between them. The male was alone and painting at an easel. The two were sitting on a couch with a bowl of popcorn on each of their laps, obviously watching a movie. The female stood wearing an apron and holding a notepad in one hand and a pencil in another. The two sat at a counter eating pie straight from the pie tin. The two sat on a different couch, the female asleep with her head on the male's shoulder. 

“It’s… is it… us?” Dana asked, turning her head to look at him. “The barbecue this summer, you painting, me at the diner, the pie from your birthday, Fox…” 

“Yeah,” he said. “It’s us. And your stockinged feet above us.” 

“It’s…” She laughed and then drew in a shaky breath, a hand going to her mouth. “You painted us… as elves. We look so happy. I love the barbecue one. That was a fun day. We…” She looked at him and he watched her eyes travel across his face, stopping at his lips before looking back into his eyes. “I went home that day and I thought… maybe we’d… but then…” She shook her head and looked back at the painting. 

“I’m terrible at expressing myself sometimes,” he said, stepping closer to her. “I loved… love spending time with you and I didn’t want to chance that ending if you… if we…” He shook his head and sighed. “I thought I was happy enough with being friends and then you came home wearing that elf costume and you laughed and laughed and I… Jesus…” He shook his head again and stared at her. “I wished I could have expressed it to you. But that night, I started sketching this out. It was… the fastest painting I’ve ever done. It felt like someone else was painting as I watched and told them what I wanted. I remembered the heat of summer and the scent of your coconut sunscreen when I painted the barbecue elves. The way you screamed and spilled your popcorn when we watched Signs. The taste of the apple pie you made for me. I wanted to include more, but these moments in particular were the ones when I wished I’d been bolder. Been more assertive in speaking up. Because if I had, maybe…” 

“Maybe what?” Dana asked, tears shining in her eyes. 

“Maybe I would have…” he said, stepping closer, his eyes dropping to her lips. 

“You would have…?” she whispered, leaning towards him, her hands landing lightly on his chest. 

“I would have kissed you,” he whispered, his mouth hovering over hers. 

“Could have done a lot more than that,” she breathed and he paused, pulling back to look at her, but she was not having it. Her hand went to the back of his neck and pulled him down, pressing her lips to his, her other arm joining the first. 

“Oh! I’m sorry,” Fox heard Marilee say and he and Dana quickly pulled apart. “I truly hate to interrupt but…” She grinned at them and shook her head. “Fuck it, it’s Christmas Eve. I’ll give you five minutes, but then you need to speak to everyone and thank them for coming out tonight. Five minutes and then you’re free to do whatever you like.” 

“Yes, Marilee,” Fox said, grinning as he took Dana’s hand and pulled her away from the gallery showroom. 

Five minutes later, the taste of Dana’s kisses on his slightly swollen lips, he stood before the room of people and spoke, though he remembered nothing that he said. He only saw Dana and her beautiful smile. 

They held hands as they walked home through the recently fallen snow an hour later, her heels switched for the boots in her backpack. When they trudged up the stairs, she tugged him towards her apartment, her smile suddenly shy. 

He kissed her, pressing her against the door, both of them breathing hard when they pulled apart and she managed to get the door open to let them inside. 

“It’s a shame that painting sold,” she said later, her head on his chest as he ran his fingers through her hair. “I feel like this moment should be added to it.” 

“I can do that,” he said, kissing the top of her head. 

“How?” she asked, leaning up to look at him. 

“Because no one bought it. Marilee put that sticker beside it to make it seem like it was purchased. It’s your Christmas present,” he said, smiling at her as he brushed her hair back. 

She smiled as she leaned forward to kiss him and ended up astride him, his hands holding lightly to her naked waist, her breasts pulling his attention like a magnet. 

“How risqué are you willing to paint it?” she asked. “Would our elf selves painted to look like this be going too far?” 

“Absolutely not,” he said, one hand moving up to cup her breast. “Or I could paint something new. You could be my model.” 

“No elf costume?” she teased and he smiled. 

“No more elf costume. You are freeee,” he said and she threw her head back and laughed and laughed. 

[baronessblixen]

prompt: A is picking up takeout from a restaurant and see B on a date, B excuses themself to say hi to sad looking A

Set in late(r) season 6, Scully is on yet another date...

Fictober Day 12 | Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober2022 | Wc: 1,275

What We Think We Want

“And then I said – can you guess what I said, Dana?” The man sitting opposite her is looking at her with wide eyes and an expectant expression. Has he noticed that she isn’t listening anymore? For that to be true, he’d have to be self-aware and Scully very much doubts that he is. She puts on a fake smile and humors him.

“No, I can’t,” she says, trying to sound interested, her voice high and squeaky.

“This is the best story,” he says. “You’re gonna love it. So, listen, I said…” And Scully zones out. Why did she think this was a good idea? She met George while picking up dry cleaning for her mother. Now, looking back on it, she wonders if her mother had maybe planned the whole thing.

George is exactly the kind of man she’d set her up with. A devoted church-goer in his late 30s, who visits his mother once a week, volunteers in the animal shelter and is financially stable as an accountant. On paper, he sounds perfect. Across from her, he’s just plain boring. There’s nothing there. No spark. No interest whatsoever. A few times she’s had to stifle a yawn. This is her first date in… she doesn’t even remember. It must be years. Maybe there are new rules she needs to learn.

But not with George.

He waves his fork around, barely getting a bite in. Scully, who hasn’t said much since they sat down an hour ago, has finished her whole plate. As she watches him, she wonders how rude it would be to fake an emergency call. Or lie that she has to get up early tomorrow. Anything to get her out of here. With how this date is going, she’s not sure she ever wants to go on another one. Maybe next decade.

Scully rests her chin on her hand and pretends to be listening. George just laughed, so she does, too. The fake sound hurts her own ears. Her date doesn’t even notice and just keeps going. Her eyes wander about the restaurant. Most people here look happy, or at least not miserable.

How did this happen? When did she lose interest in dating? Or is it just because George is so boring? She should do a field study on it, date more men. Two dates in the last five or six years don’t exactly make her an expert. She thinks about Mulder, how she once told him that she’d like to have a life besides their work.

Now here she is, wishing he’d call and whisk her away to a crime scene or to hunt a mutant.

“That was funny, wasn’t it?” George asks her with apple-red cheeks.

“Very,” Scully lies, taking a sip from her water.

“Now tell me a funny story from your life.”

“Um,” she says, trying to come up with something. Would he think a man who can control the weather is funny? Or her delivering a baby in a storm while a sea monster was loose? Probably not. “My life isn’t very funny.”

“Too bad,” George says, touching her hand. “I’ll tell you another one of mine then.” While George goes on another monologue, Scully continues her people-watch. At first, she isn’t sure if she’s imagining it, or if it’s real. If he’s real. Over there at the counter, where they give out takeout orders, is a face she knows well.

Mulder.

She watches the man for a moment, moving her head this way and that whenever someone steps into her line of sight. The longer she looks at him, the surer she is. It’s Mulder. What gives her pause is his body language. He’s leaning against the counter, his eyes cast downward. His hands are in his pockets and he shuffles his feet.

Unlike her, he doesn’t look around. Knowing how naturally curious he is, she wonders why that is. Everything about him screams melancholy and her own body answers his silent call, needing to know why he’s here, wanting to be close to him.

“I’m sorry, George,” she says, interrupting him. She’s not really sorry, but he doesn’t need to know that. “I see a friend of mine over there,” she says, pointing to where Mulder is standing at the counter. “I’m just going to say hi, okay? Excuse me.” Before George can say anything, she’s up and walking towards Mulder. Her lips curl upwards into her first real smile today.

“Hey you,” she says when she reaches him, touching his arm. He startles, turning to her. His expression softens, but the wistfulness she caught from her table lingers.

“What are you doing here?” She asks him, trying not to sound too excited about seeing him.

“Picking up food,” he says with a shrug.

“I didn’t know you liked their food.”

“Thought I’d try something new.” Another shrug. “You’re enjoying yourself?” He asks, pressing the words through his teeth with difficulty.

“To be honest,” Scully says, making sure George doesn’t suddenly appear behind her. “I haven’t been this bored since our last budget meeting.”

“Oh, that was so boring,” he says, now grinning at her. “Why did you go on a date with him in the first place?”

“Is that why you’re here? You could have asked me that at work.”

“I’m here to pick up my takeout order,” he says, and she raises an eyebrow. “I swear I am.”

“I hate to ask, but…”

“You can ask me anything, Scully,” Mulder assures her with a soft voice.

“I-,” she starts but is cut off by someone slapping down a brown paper bag on the counter.

“Order for Mudder!” He says, disappearing to the back of the restaurant.

“That’s me,” Mulder says, peeking into the bag. “Looks good. See? My order.”

“Hm, yeah, I see.” What she sees is that Mulder has never been to this restaurant. Unless he’s frequenting places without her. Considering how often they’re on the road, she can’t imagine it. This means that the reason he’s here is that he knew she would be here, too. With George.

“Want to go back to your date? He looks- well, he does look boring.”

“Mulder, I don’t want to go back to that table. I never should have said yes to this date.”

“Why did you?” His voice is soft, downright hurt.

“I thought- I don’t know what I was thinking. I don’t know if you know this, Mulder, but I haven’t been on a date in a while.”

He nods, saying, “I know you want a life away from the madness that is our work.”

“I love that madness,” she admits, looking at him. He’s staring back at her, seemingly thinking about something. “Mulder… take me with you.”

“What?” He laughs.

“Take me with you,” she repeats. “I can’t go back there.” Ditching George means she will have to find a new dry cleaner, too. But it’s worth it.

“Are you sure?” Mulder asks her. “You won’t regret it?” There’s an implication in his question she’s not ready to pick up on. Not here, while the whiff of George lingers in the air.

“Yes, I’m sure. No regrets, Mulder.” What she would regret is staying here and letting Mulder go. Her partner who doesn’t bore her, who asks her opinions, and who knows her better than she probably knows herself.

Another thought dawns on her as she glances up at Mulder. What was it that she said in Kroner about flicked switches? She doesn’t get to dwell on it, because in the next moment Mulder grabs his takeout, her hand, and then they run outside like a couple of teenagers, laughing.

[katy-kt-katie]

Mastermind: Final Chapter

RATING EXPLICIT

Thanks for reading this fun journey, co-written by @tofuttim and I! We SO appreciate all the kudos, notes, comments! Follow us on twitter: @Katy_kt_katie and @tofuttim READ FULL FIC HERE ON AO3

I laid the groundwork and then saw a wide smirk

On your face, you knew the entire time

You knew that I'm a mastermind

And now you're mine

Yeah, all you did was smile

'Cause I'm a mastermind

-Lyrics by Taylor Swift

“Oh god, don’t stop,” Scully whispered, her orgasm continuing.

Sex in her forties and fifties was a true revelation as she could start an orgasm minutes before Mulder climaxed and keep going for minutes after.

“Stay…right there…don’t move,” she demanded. Mulder stilled behind her, soaking inside of her, himself finished but allowing her to chase her maximum pleasure.

He kept his pelvis still and continued to work her clit and finally, she felt the minutes-long ride of pleasure reaching a crescendo, “I’m coming,” she mewled, her nerves erupting in a massive burst of pleasure. 

“Stop…stop,” she whispered, breathless; suddenly oversensitive.

He finally pulled out and she crashed forward on the bed. He followed her down, laying on top of her; his chest to her backside. He kissed the side of her mouth and she lazily kissed him back. 

“Fuuuuck,” she grinned, eyes still closed. “What would I ever do without you, babe?” she said, sated.

“Without me?” he chuckled. “Was that ever an option?” He paused, “Not with you calling the shots, honey.” He teased as he rolled to his side and propped his head up on his elbow.

She peeked one eye open suspiciously and smiled. “Calling the shots? What does that mean?” she mused, still mostly face down in exhaustion.

“I think you know what it means, honey,” he said and took a playful smack at her ass. “God you still have a great ass, you know that?”

She giggled. After over twenty years together, she still had the best sex ever with this man. 

“You are still pretty easy on the eyes too, babe. But what do you mean, I was calling the shots?” What is he talking about? She wondered. She felt like he had always led their work and he tended to dominate in the bedroom too, andthat’s how I like it, she thought.

"How you orchestrated the moments leading up to you and I becoming partners; reaching out to Skinner for mentorship, letting him know you wanted to work with me." He said nonchalantly.

Her eyes flew wide open.This time she felt the blood rush to her face and not in between her legs. She reflected back to her master plan to become Mulder’s partner, formulated after seeing his lecture decades ago; after touching his hand and seeing visions pointing her towards their inevitable conclusion as partners in everything.

“Skinner was my mentor, that’s true,” she said, flirtatiously. Matching his posture now and propping her head on her elbow staring into his hazel green eyes. She still got lost in his eyes, and he still gave her butterflies in her stomach.  

“Are you saying you didn’t work Skinner over in an effort to become my partner?” He smiled at her and shrugged, as if to indicateI know , while he lazily ran his hand up and down her thigh.

Her jaw dropped open and she scoffed, wanting to deny the truth, but…why would she deny it at this point in their relationship.

“That may be true…” she grinned and closed her eyes, wincing just a bit.

He chuckled and leaned over to kiss her forehead before she could finish.

“...But I honestly knew you needed me; you needed science. No one would have been a better partner for you than me. I knew it, I just needed everyone else to realize it too.” She smirked, while pointing at his leg, “And you needed someone who could bandage up all of your little boo boos.”

“You do help me with that,” he grinned, as he looked down at a gash on his leg he got recently after slipping on one of their daughter's toys that had been abandoned on the floor.

She scooted closer to him and laid her head on his chest, hearing his heartbeat. She slung one rosey naked leg over his tan naked body and sighed happily.

"How did you know you'd be the perfect partner for me anyway? Was it before or after you touched my hand at the lecture hall?"

Now she verbally gasped. She remembered telling him she’d attended the lecture during their first case, but she never told him about the feelings that were elicited by touching him. Popping her head up from his chest, she asked, “Mulder, how do you know about that?”

“So, it was you! I knew it. You touched my hand like this and then ran off.” He had a wide smirk on his face as he took his hand and gently grazed the top of hers with his fingers. His touch still sent a spark through her after all the years.

“Oh my God! Mulder, she uttered, jumping to her knees and hovering over him. I can’t believe you figured that out. I felt a spark immediately, it was overwhelming,” she whispered, admitting her instant and overpowering reaction to her man. 

“I felt it too honey,” he growled, ghosting a finger across her plump lips. “When you touched me, I envisioned our hands doing all these things, like a prophecy. I turned around to look for the source of those visions, but you were gone” 

“Mulder,” she gasped, “me too. I felt so drawn to you during that lecture and then when I grazed your hand…it was like my future was clear and it was you. It turned me on, to be honest,” she said, clambering back down to lay her leg playfully over Mulder once more, slowly waking his member.

“I went home and jacked off thinking about it,” he admitted quietly. “I wondered who belonged to that hand and then I felt it again when we first met in the office; when you shook my hand. But that was after you orchestrated it all with Skinner.”

She giggled. “I did try to email you directly first. You weren’t interested in talking to me.”

His head jerked with surprise, “You did? I don’t remember that!”

“Sure did. Asked you if I could apply to be your partner and you booted me towards Skinner.”

He chuckled, “Sounds like me.”

She shifted on top of him, looking down into his eyes. 

“Thank God, you worked it through Skinner, then. I needed you, still do. God Scully,” he teared up a bit. “You are everything to me. You and Ellie.”

She kissed his eyelids softly, “Speaking of which,” She reached over to look at their now two year old baby sleeping soundly on the video monitor. “Yep, she’s out.”  

Mulder pulled Scully back to his chest and squeezed her tight. She laid back down on him, her head on his shoulder and her naked body draped on his.

“Why did it take us so long to end up together, Scully?” he whispered, his voice low and scratchy.

She sighed and looked up at his eyes, “I guess I valued the partnership and then friendship we were building so much, I didn’t want to rush it. But then I did get impatient after a while.”

Mulder leaned his mouth towards her and found her lips, kissing them soundly, letting his tongue meet hers. She groaned as his hands snaked down her back to her ass, grabbing her hard with both hands.

Scully pulled back from the kiss and saw a fresh flood of desire in his eyes and what she felt between her legs just confirmed his need. 

“What about you, Mulder? Why didn’t you pursue something sooner?” 

He sighed, “Skinner told me how you angled for our partnership and then we hit it off so quickly, I just figured you knew what you were doing,” She grabbed a pillow and hit him with it, playfully. “I let you take the controls on us,” he laughed.

“Oh my god, Mulder. Did I push you into all of it,” she laughed, embarrassed.

“Honey,” he said, now sounding serious. “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I thank God, you found me interesting enough to pursue me as a partner. The rest is just kismet, it was meant to be,” he paused. “Scully and Mulder; we were always meant to go through all of this together, you and me, kid.” He said, as he smiled at her.

“God, I love you,” she panted as she found his lips again, sucking on his plump lower lip that she was fond of from the moment she saw him and that had become her personal territory over the years. 

“I could show you how much I appreciate all the hard work you did, getting us together?” he teased, looking at her with hooded eyes.

She smiled and nodded, wanting him to think she was more in the mindset of “I’ll allow it” than how she actually was, which was “Please, show me now .”

He grinned and kissed her lips once more before lowering himself slowly down her body. He kissed her collarbone and her breasts. He nibbled at her navel ring and licked her hip bones along the way before finding her folds with his tongue.

She moaned. She’d never really been into oral before sleeping with Fox Mulder, but his natural talents had persuaded her to love it and she’s never looked back.

“Thank you,” he mouthed while working on her arousal, “for finding me.” He stuck his tongue inside of her, before running it back up to her clit, “Thank you, for finding us .” The vibrations of his baritone against her elicited delicious sensations and the start of another orgasm.

He grabbed her ass cheeks to pull her towards the edge of the bed before kneeling on the floor and tossing her thighs over his shoulders. 

He worked like a magician down there, always getting her close so fast . She closed her eyes and let herself succumb to how good it felt as he ran his tongue inside her and up to her clit; back and forth. She felt the spark of energy and emotion pass through them like it always did when they touched.

 

//

 

Mulder sighed into her core, he loved doing this to her, making her feel good and having a front row seat to her body's reaction to him.

He realized she was getting close, when she tapped him on the head, moaning.

“Babe, goddd, please…inside me,” Scully said.

He grunted and took one last lick before moving back on top of her, on the bed.

He loved his woman so much. Once she realized she was pregnant again, he had promised to himself and to her that he would never let the darkness overtake him again. As long as he had her, he had enough love and light to survive.

Mulder moved up to the headboard to allow his aging back a moment's rest and she happily climbed on top of him.

Mulder kissed her as she lowered herself onto his shaft; she felt so good every time; plush and warm. He hugged her against him, and they nuzzled into each other’s necks while he thrusted up and she rocked down.

They’d had sex in this position hundreds of times before, but after talking about how she first brought them together and so much of their past; he was reminded about how this position was the way they finished their first time together.

She was like jello against his body, already rocked with a long orgasm earlier but he always wanted to give her more pleasure. “Baby,” he whispered into her ear.

“Mmm, yeah?” Scully mewled.

“This is how we did it the first time, remember? You were so brave, making the first move and then I couldn’t have enough.” He thrusted into her extra deep and she moaned, “I knew immediately the visions were right, we were supposed to be like this forever.”

He felt her start to pulse around him again and he reached down to her clit. He softly pinched it and immediately she started to orgasm, falling even more against his chest.

“I’ve got you baby, just let go,” he whispered into her ear. 

Scully grabbed onto his neck, like she was holding on for her life, panting and shaking.  He knew when she had a second orgasm in a row it often was shorter but made her body shake.

“Ohhh God. Yes. I love you,” she said, as she exhaled, finishing. He was pulled under with her as he felt her core narrow and tighten around him. “I love you,” he grunted into her ear as he thrusted a few more times.

She raised off of him and fell backwards on the bed.

He chuckled at her zombielike state. “Dana, are you okay?” After getting together they naturally fell into occasionally calling each other by their first names.

“Foxxxxx, yes. I’m sleepy,” she smiled. “Need to sleep now.”

He gently pulled her back up the bed and tucked her under the covers. “You told me once women become more energetic after sex,” he teased into her ear.

“That was before I got in the regular habit of fucking Fox Mulder. I am done,” she giggled. “You are on Ellie duty, I gotta sleep babe,” she smiled and despite already closing her eyes, she easily leaned and found his lips for a sweet loving peck.

“I’ve got you honey, you get some sleep,” he said, shifting up against her in a spooning position.

He closed his eyes to get some sleep too, before he heard her whisper, drunk in sleepiness and post coital bliss, “I can’t believe you knew the entire time that I’d pushed us together, that I worked with Skinner, that I…”

He heard a sweet tiny snore come from her and knew she fell asleep mid-sentence, just like she did before their first time together.

God did he love her more than he ever dreamed was possible. Thank God for her finding him and drawing them together. “I love you. Thank you for choosing us,” he whispered in her ear quietly.

“Love you…” he heard quietly, before the snores resumed again.

[freckleslikestars]

Conduit

Conduit smut. sexy times do be ahead. Proceed with caution.

2267 words, read on AO3 here

‘Mulder, stop. Stop running after your sister,’ she knew it was the wrong thing to say before she even said it. But she said it anyway, ‘this won’t bring her back.’

He looked at her, a scathing, disappointed look that she loathed to get. ‘Come with me or don’t come with me but until they find a body, I’m not giving up on that girl.’

And surely, surely this is what she found so intriguing about him in the first place; his determination and his drive to find the truth; to save anyone resembling his sister. She’d noticed it in their first case together, his desperation to save the teenagers.

But his fire and passion put the X files and himself in danger – the man chased after wolves, tore apart a grave. She just wanted to get through to him.

The car ride to Darlene Morris’s was held in stony silence. Mulder grinding his teeth, hands white-knuckling the steering wheel.

Silence until the breaks squealed and the car veered off onto the verge. The snap of the seatbelt buckle hitting the car interior, driver’s door slamming shut as Mulder stormed out.

After giving him a moment to blow off steam, she followed him past the treeline, ‘Mulder...wait. Mulder,’ his long legs had only carried him a few paces, ‘Mulder.’

‘I told you about Samantha in confidence, Scully. I...I trusted you.’

‘Mulder-‘

‘No,’ he snapped, twisting on his heel to glare at her, ‘no, you don’t get to bring her up. You don’t get to talk about her. You don’t get to use her against me.’

She squared her shoulders, set her jaw and lifted her chin to him, letting his tirade wash over her. It wasn’t the first time she’d been yelled at by a man, and it wouldn’t be the last. And, whilst his lanky frame towered over her diminutive one, she was not, and would not be, intimidated by him.

Not even when he stalked towards her did she flinch, nor when her back hit the solid trunk of a tree behind her and his hands grasped at her shoulders.

She should have been afraid. In hindsight, she would look back and wonder why she wasn’t terrified. But she knew. She knew that he wouldn’t hurt her. He looked like a scared teenager, missing his sister.

His voice a low growl as he bent his head to hers, nose brushing nose and eyes so close she couldn’t focus on them, ‘she’s mine.’

And of course, of fucking course, that had to be the moment her fucked up little brain noticed just how close her partner was, with his hot breath and green green green eyes and that pouty little mouth that he’d been popping sunflower seeds into all afternoon. And God, if there wasn’t a not-so-little part of her that wasn’t incredibly turned on by his possessiveness, wondered if he’d ever be that possessive over her. She could feel it, that urge to push against his controlling behaviours and rebel against him, just like she always did. Usually, it took longer. Fourteen years to rebel against her father. Three with Daniel. Two and a half before she started pushing her luck with Jack. With Mulder, it had barely taken five months.

‘Are you done?’

‘I think so,’ he huffed.

‘Good. My turn. I understand how sensitive a topic Samantha is, but you have to realise, Mulder, that I am trying to protect you, protect the work you are so passionate about,’ she shook her head, ‘I’m trying to keep the x files open so you can find your sister.’

‘You have a funny way of going about it,’ he interrupted snidely.

‘Mulder, stop. Just...think for one goddamn minute, will you? This isn’t the way to go about it. You can’t just go ranting and raving about aliens – you end up being dismissed and sounding like poor Darlene. You need to have a rational process, a discrete one. And you have to separate the search for your sister from other cases that you have no proof are connected,’ she took a breath, head thunking back against the rough bark of the tree trunk.

‘There’s no separating them, Scully,’ he growled, grip tightening on her shoulders, ‘you don’t understand what it’s like!’

‘I know, Mulder! And I’ll never understand what it’s like, but you have to compartmentalise, you have to be sensible, not just for your work but for yourself, too. It’s not...it’s not healthy, Mulder,’ she reached up, held a hand against his cheek, felt the clenched muscles in his jaw, sighed, ‘Mulder...’

‘Why do you care, Scully?’

She sighed, ‘because someone has to, Mulder.’

He swallowed, frowned, and she moved the hand that had been cupping his cheek up to soothe out the wrinkles on his forehead as he deflated. He shrugged out of her grasp and dropped his forehead against the trunk next to her, arms still bracketing her either side.

His body started trembling and she wrapped her arms around him, nestling her head into his shoulder as he sobbed. Her passion shifted, heat and anger coiling in her gut, not now aimed at Mulder but at everyone who never cared for him.

She became aware of him shifting, nuzzling his face into her hair, pressing kisses to the top of her scalp, and if she wasn’t so desperate to both please him and rebel against him all at once, she might have flashed on transference and worried about him becoming too attached to her. But her mind was preoccupied with his hand dropping down to her neck, thumb rubbing along her collar bone and tracing her arteries up to her pulse point, lingering there. She knew he’d feel her increased heart rate, the rapid thump brought on by being so very close to him and the adrenaline still lingering from their argument.

He nudged her face up with his nose so they were again locking eyes, and it was with a start that she realised just how clear his were. Her hands dropped to his hips, holding him steady, or holding herself steady, she wasn’t quite sure.

He dropped his forehead to hers, leant in, and maybe she had lost all rationality, but maybe she wanted it, and so she opened her mouth instinctively, reached up to him, darted her tongue out to flick at his lips, tasting salt.

‘Tell me what you want, Scully,’ he murmured into her opened mouth.

‘Tell me what you need,’ she countered, chest heaving with heavy breaths.

‘I think you know what I need.’

She nodded, eyes almost as desperate as his, crashing her lips into his, one hand kneading into his side as her other reached up to hold his shoulder, leverage herself into him further. She had to wonder, as his thumb pressed harder on her pressure point whilst he kissed her roughly, just how long he had spent profiling her. And then he was dropping a hand to cup her over her pants and all thoughts of profiling went out of her head. All thoughts of propriety, of anything but him - his whole body surrounding her, engulfing her, pressing in around her – slipping away.

‘Can I?’ he asked, grazing his teeth across her jaw, tugging her earlobe, biting down as she whimpered, and God, that was an unexpected noise.

Her hips were already shifting, grinding down into his palm, and that was all the incentive he needed to tug at her zipper, slipping inside to finger the elastic waistband with the little ribbon bow on the front. At the back of her mind, she wondered if he’d consider her underwear choice plain; he’d seen her in worse on their first case together, but still, she had seen glossy pages with flesh and a little lace peeking out of one of his bottom drawers in the office. His fingers distracted her, though, as they dragged across the cotton of her panties, down and up and down and up along the sodden gusset, tracing her slit over and over and bypassing her clit every single fucking time.

Her head dropped back to the trunk of the tree he had her pinned to with a thunk, her hair catching on the bark and tugging, only spurring her on more as she writhed, fingers clasping at every inch of him in her reach.

‘Shit,’ a heavy exhale as she dragged nimble fingers around his belt, felt him hot and hard and big, oh so delightfully hefty, through his woollen slacks, the snap of metal and leather followed by the snick of his fly being pulled down as her hand reached in, neatly manicured nails grazing him through the soft cotton of his boxers as he bucked towards her with a whimper and a whine.

His dexterous fingers tugged aside her panties, slicked through her wetness before delving inside, a strangled gasp eeking out of her throat and her small hand grasping him, slipping into the confines of his boxers.

If she had any sense she would have stopped him, told him they shouldn’t be doing this, not with the road just a few yards behind them, not at all. Not ever. This was not a good way to deal with arguments, and it was not a way for him to deal with his trauma. It was going to end badly, and there would be tears and more fights. But oh, oh those fingers of his, and he was hunching over her, his mouth finding her earlobe as he bit and sucked on it, and even if she had not been so far gone, the power of speech to stop him was feeling rather illusive. Her hair was tangling in the bark of the tree, but she really didn’t care, not as she was tugging his cock out of his trousers, as she was whispering his name and guiding him closer to her opening, nudging his hand out of her way in the search for their mutual goal as he hoisted her into his arms.

He buried his face into her hair as he slid home with a grunt. They each took a moment to breathe before she rolled her hips and moaned at the full feeling of him moving within her. It only took another roll of her hips for him to start thrusting properly, rutting into her as he chased release. In that moment, as the emotions of the day broiled over and he pumped harder, he realised just how grateful he was for her. This spy that had been dropped into his life. But she had taken the anger out of him and coiled around him as she comforted him.

His murmurs became worshipping praises mingled with her name, his hot breath panting against her flushed skin, her gasps of pleasure floating up to the canopy of the trees.

Her fingertips grasped at his shoulders and the nape of his neck, her sighs filled the air and all she could think about was how she was letting her new superior fuck her against a tree and she was enjoying it. Maybe a little too much. She’d started this as a way to comfort him, give him what she figured was some much needed human touch – he didn’t strike her as a guy who got out much, despite how much women seemed to flirt with him. Oblivious was one word for him. Fulfilling was another.

He was stretching her out so blissfully, his cock dragging agonisingly against her front wall, pushing her ever closer to the metaphorical cliff she was about to tumble over. He turned his head to capture her lips, muffling her cries as his tongue plundered her mouth whilst his hand shifted from where it was supporting her thigh to press his thumb against the bead of her clip. She jolted in his arms, biting down on his bottom lip as she trembled and shattered. He managed three more pumps of his hips before he stuttered, spurting his hot come into her tight, pulsing cunt.

He held her against the tree until his dick softened and slipped from her, dropping his forehead to the trunk of the tree and sighing exhaustedly. He lowered her to the ground, sniffed, and startled when she reached up to wipe tears from his cheeks.

‘Hey,’ she smiled up at him, cupping his face in her hand.

‘Thank you, Scully, I-‘

‘Don’t mention it,’ she shook her head, cleared her throat and looked away, ‘we should probably get going.’

‘Yeah,’ he nodded, stepping away from her. With a handkerchief from his pocket, he cleaned his penis and tucked himself away into his slacks before proffering the handkerchief to Scully. She smiled and accepted it, wiping their combined come from her inner thighs, rearranging her panties and pulling up her pants.

‘Thanks,’ she nodded, combing her fingers through her hair and removing the few pieces of bark and pine needles that had tangled themselves into it whilst he rearranged his shirt and tie.

Neither made eye contact as they traipsed their way through the trees back to the car, silent but for the woods around them until Scully cleared her throat, ‘I’d appreciate if we went on as if this never happened, Mulder.’

‘Of course,’ he nodded, running a hand through his hair, ‘and, uh, I apologise. For...for...’

‘Mulder, forget it. Forget it all happened, okay,’ she brushed him off, knowing as she climbed into the passenger seat of the car that she wasn’t going to be forgetting any of it any time soon.

Tagging @today-in-fic