#also who wouldn’t have a thing for dana fucking scully

[mulderiloveyou]

i have a strong feeling that spender had a thing for scully (add that to the list of things he couldn’t get)

[qveerthe0ry]

The D-Files

Summary: Something weird happens when Dieter tries to post his X-Files fanfiction Word Count: 14,941 Pairing: Dieter Bravo x Fox Mulder x Dana Scully Rating: 18+ mdni Warnings: threesome, oral (m & f receiving), vaginal fingering, unprotected PIV, rimming, d/s undertones, poor explanation of time travel and quantum physics, it's a little cracky tbh Beta: the one and only @for-a-longlongtime obviously A/N: listen. I have ten episodes left of the whole series so if something is totally off and not accurate to x files canon just ignore me :) Also I'm absolutely aware of how completely ridiculous this fic is but I heard the voice of Dieter Bravo speak to me and could not ignore it Ao3 link

Curled up under at least three blankets, in just his underwear, stoned out of his mind (just weed— he’s California sober now) Dieter watches Mulder and Scully shake hands for the first time. 

The first time for them. 

He’s had to have seen this episode at least a thousand times by now. 

He’s in one of those funks again. His therapist calls it a depressive episode, but that’s so dramatic. He’s just a little bit down in the dumps thinking about how worthless he is and how no one’s ever really loved him before, not even his own parents, and how he hates himself so much he’s not sure if he would ever get rid of the guilt of letting someone else love him because he knows he’d just be a waste of their time.

It’s no big deal. Nothing an X-Files rewatch, weed, and a footlong Subway sandwich can’t fix.

Except this time, the way Scully and Mulder instantly mesh so well kind of makes him feel like he smoked too much pot. His stomach’s a little queasy as he watches him give her his undivided attention, and fuck, maybe this is a job above these FBI agents’ pay grade. 

He eyes that stupid notebook on his nightstand, still wrapped in plastic from the Amazon order. 

His therapist told him to start writing his thoughts down in a journal. He doesn’t like writing. It’s not what he does. He can’t stand those actors who think just because they’ve starred in a few movies means they should start writing them, or scrawling down some convoluted, conceited novel. Just fucking act, y’know? 

But as Scully throws herself into Mulder’s arms after knowing him for only a few days, and they both look so comfortable, Dieter rips open the packaging and swallows down the bile threatening his esophagus.

—

I don’t even know what I’m supposed to be doing here. What should I even write down in this thing? How lonely I am? Get in line, right? I’m not the only one. Even though sometimes it feels like I am.

Maybe it feels so bad because I know I did this to myself. Everyone always told me I’d always be a piece of shit. Even when I was young. And I just let their narrative take over and now here I am. The biggest piece of shit. 

It’s like Mulder. Everyone always called him Spooky and said he was too ‘out there’ and he ended up in the basement chasing Bigfoot. 

Except I don’t have a hot redhead in my life to balance me out or slowly fall in love with me.

And I’m not a tall, boyishly handsome, charming FBI agent. 

I’m just a washed-up actor, and a slob, and a drug addict. That’s probably why.

Golly gee, doc, this sure made me feel better.

—

He writes in his journal a bit here and there. He also slowly rots away in his bed, takes far too little showers and far too many THC gummies. He talks to his therapist two weeks later and tells her he’s been writing down his thoughts and her impressed hum and “That’s very good, Dieter” has him riding a high the rest of the afternoon. 

So he keeps it up. 

He doesn’t leave the house much, and when he does, he just wants to get back into his permanently affixed blanket fort to watch more X-Files and get high. 

He writes a little about his day, about what he’s mulling over in his mind. But as he reaches the end of season two, he’s out of his funk enough to start feeling horny again. 

Who wouldn’t, watching the world’s hottest FBI agents on a near constant loop?

So who can blame him when his journal thoughts get a little spicy?

—

God, Mulder’s such an idiot sometimes. So is Scully. They waste so much time getting on each others’ nerves. This entire show is just years-long foreplay. I swear they get off on irritating each other.

I irritate so many people, why aren’t any of them ever turned on about it? 

They should have just let them kiss in the first season. There could have been so much sex. All the motel rooms these two wasted! On the government’s dime, too! 

Rental car sex, alleyway sex, OFFICE sex. The Sex Files. That’s what this show should have been. 

I wonder if Mulder’s better at eating ass or pussy. I just know he’s freaky with all the porn and phone sex hotlines. And the auto erotic asphyxiation thing, can’t forget about that. I’d choke the shit out of him if he wanted that. With my hand or my cock, his choice. 

I wonder if Scully is freaky, too? I think she’d deny it, but it wouldn’t surprise me if she was filthy kinky. She always has to be in control. I wonder if she’d be like that in bed, too? I wonder if she’d get off on torturing me and making me beg. Or maybe she’s always so in control that she wants to relinquish all of it when she’s in bed.

—

Dieter remembers that fanfiction exists shortly after that. 

His dick is raw and he hasn’t even made it through half of the explicit entries on archive of our own. But everything’s so… Vanilla. 

Don’t get him wrong, he’s a total sucker for tender, missionary love-making. But where’s the experimentation? Where’s the creativity? And why the hell does everyone think Fox Mulder is such a dom?

Just look at him.

He’s pathetic. Scully could have him begging on his knees with nothing but the snap of her finger and one of her sexy, stern glances. Maybe he’s projecting a little bit, but not much.

He gripes to his therapist about this while he avoids the topic of his greatest fear being dying without ever having a meaningful relationship in his whole life.

“Have you ever thought about writing your own fanfiction?”

And no, he truly never has. It seems like something so far away from appropriate given his profession. But then again, when has he ever been totally professional?

So he starts writing. At first he finds himself falling into the popular tropes— love confessions and sweet, romantic first times. Just little blurbs in his journal he ends up scrawling out with his pen. There’s enough of that already. He needs to explore the fun stuff with these two.

One night/early morning, he finally grabs his laptop from his rarely-used office. He snuggles up under all the blankets he can find, turns on The X-Files, and gets down to business. 

—

“I’m sorry Scully—”

“Don’t.”

Her icy blue stare pins Mulder in place. His pouty lips close and his sharp jaw clenches as he looks down at his feet.

“You almost got us killed!”

“I wouldn’t have let you get hurt, you know that.”

Scully doesn’t know what comes over her, but she crosses what little distance is between them to grab the back of Mulder’s hair and tug.

His jaw drops and as hard as he tries, he can’t stifle the whimper that slips from his lip. 

“You were reckless with your own life. You can’t— Do you know what I would do if anything ever happened to you?”

Scully’s sharp gaze softens. Tears prickle at Mulder’s eyes, partly from Scully’s death grip and partly because of the way her voice wavers. 

“Scully—”

“Get on your knees.”

——

Dieter fights the heavy, sharp arousal in his gut as he writes Mulder on his knees for Scully. He just knows he’d eat pussy like a champ, what with those sunflower seeds he’s always got between those pillowy lips. He’d be great at sucking cock, too. Dieter thinks they would look so fucking pretty around his own dick.

Or Scully’s strap. 

Perfect.

He stays awake for way too long, writing about Scully trapping Mulder between her thighs for hours, and then making him choke or her strap, and then making him beg and whimper and cry for it as she teases his prostate with her fingers. 

Scully’s so dainty, but the idea of her fucking into her big, tall partner with fury has Dieter leaking into his boxers as he types away. It takes all of Dieter’s willpower to write the sweet aftercare scene. Scully gently cleans up his cum and sweat and tears, telling him what a good boy he was as she pets his hair and kisses his face. 

As soon as Dieter writes the last words, he’s fumbling for his lube and dildo in the bedside drawer. He’s too worked up to prepare properly, and it burns, and he hears Scully’s disappointed tuts in his head as he fucks himself into a mess. 

He whines her name, and Mulder’s name, as filthy images of the two fill his head. 

He comes without even touching his dick. He makes an absolute mess of his sheets and just grinds into the puddle beneath him as he fucks himself through the aftershocks. 

And if he cries a little bit at the thought of two beautiful FBI agents telling him how good he was as they stroke his sweaty skin, that’s between him and his open laptop. 

—

“Do you think I should post my fanfiction?”

His therapist’s perfectly shaped eyebrows perk up. 

“Do you think you should post it?”

“I dunno. Probably not.”

“Why not?”

“Wouldn’t it be a little weird? An actor writing fanfiction about characters his peers portrayed?”

His therapist hums. He knows that’s his cue to keep talking, but they just sit in silence for a bit. 

“Do you want to post it?” She asks. 

He huffs. 

“I don’t know. What if everyone hates it?”

She shrugs and nods at him to continue.

“I’m afraid no one’s gonna read it. Or if they do, they’ll hate it. And leave mean comments.”

“Would that bother you?”

“Well yeah, duh.”

She hums again. Dieter rolls his eyes, half at her but half at himself. 

“I know, I know,” he sighs, “I’m a walking contradiction. I crave praise but I’m too afraid to put myself out there to receive any.”

“That’s not necessarily true. You’re an actor. It’s your job to put yourself out there and be consumed and reviewed.”

“Yeah but that’s not me, it’s just the guy they tell me to play.”

His therapist smiles. 

Shit. 

“I think you know what you need to do, Dieter.”

He does leave that therapy session crying, thirty minutes later. If he had a tail, it would be between his legs. 

It takes him six days to work up enough courage to even make an account. And then another two days to pour over every single word he wrote, change it, change it back, wash rinse and repeat. 

When he finally works up the nerve to post it, his laptop dies just as he’s about to press the publish button. 

You gotta be kidding me, he thinks, maybe this is a sign.

But then he thinks about what his therapist would say, that things that are worth it rarely come easy, and that he should probably stop assuming everything is a sign, and so he plugs his laptop in and waits for it to charge enough to come back to life. 

It’s the longest four minutes of his life. 

He stares at the black screen in silence. He blinks at his reflection as he listens to the storm brewing outside his window, only flinching slightly as lightning illuminates his dark room. 

His heart leaps up into his throat when the screen lights up again. Everything’s right where he left it. All he has to do is press that little button. 

He takes one, two, three deep breaths with his finger on the trigger and then—

CRACK

—

Everything hurts. Like, bad.

Dieter groans and tries to blink his eyes open. It’s bright. He’s no stranger to waking up in an unfamiliar place with a terrible headache and no recollection of how or why he’s there. However, he hasn’t touched a party drug in a year and a half, and hasn’t even been to a party for even longer than that. 

He finally blinks away the sleep in his eyes. He’s on the cold ground. The grass is plush and dewy under him. When he sits up, the world spins around him for a few moments and he just barely keeps his stomach from emptying. 

He checks his pockets. At least he has his phone on him. No wallet, though. And he’s in his pajamas, which is fine, not unusual attire for most of his outings. 

He goes to unlock his phone but of course it’s dead. 

Shit. 

He looks around a bit more and all this scenery does not look like Los Angeles. There are hills in the distance that are much more rolling than the jagged peaks in California. The smell of campfire fills the air and it’s humid, he realizes. Stiflingly so. 

He stands up. His joints ache even more than they usually do, stiff and popping. When he runs his hand through his hair he’s got wicked bed head. 

At least he can make out a dirt path amongst the grass and trees around him. He follows it for a while, and just as he thinks he might be wandering to his own death out in the boonies he sees a little shack in the clearing just by what seems to be a lake. 

It looks… Strangely familiar, despite the fact that he’s certain he’s never been here before. There’s a sign that reads “Bait & Tackle” that’s seen better days and a big giant inflatable… something tied down to the roof. 

He scratches his head as he stares. He has the feeling of something being on the tip of his tongue, but it’s on the tip of his brain instead. 

As he approaches, a high-pitched growl startles him out of his daze. His eyes frantically search for the source, and as he walks closer he spots it.

A tiny little yappy Pomeranian, tan and fluffy. 

It hits him all at once. 

He gasps and moves toward the fiesty little thing as his heart pounds. There’s no way…

It snarls and yaps at him as he crouches down to greet it— him. 

Once he starts giving the dog butt pats and head scratches, it warms up to him pretty quickly. He searches for the dog tag hiding under all that fur and gasps as he reads it.

QUEEQUEG

“Oh my god, Queequeg, I thought I’d never see you again, buddy.”

The pup wags his tail at the sound of his name and Dieter goes down on his knees to accept him into his lap. 

“How are you real? What’s happening?”

Tears well at Dieter’s eyes as he holds this fictional dog in his arms, who’s been dead since season 3. Sue him, he’s very confused and vulnerable and it was the most devastating death of the series by far.

As he pets the derpy little thing, he tries to wrap his head around everything that’s going on. Last he remembers, he was holding his breath and clicking the mouse pad and now he’s here, in the middle of nowhere Georgia if he remembers his X-Files trivia correctly. 

Which means this sweet little pup is going to die in this… episode? And if he’s in the episode, that means—

“Hey! What are you doing? That’s my dog!”

Dieter’s heart pounds, heavy and fast, like he’s done way too much coke. He looks up with wide eyes and it’s unmistakable, her bright red hair and sexy scowl and the lanky handsome man attached to her hip. 

“Scully?”

Dieter watches her face twist up in confusion, and watches Mulder’s eyebrows raise with a smirk on his face as he looks between him and his partner. 

“You know this guy, Scully?”

She squints at Dieter as they walk closer. He feels very warm under her gaze. He pets Queequeg’s head for comfort.

“No, I don’t. What’s your name?”

Dieter clears his throat. 

“You don’t recognize me?”

Mulder presses his lips together, trying to hide his amused smile as he nudges Scully’s side. 

“Should I?”

“Wait… what year is it?”

Scully’s face turns from annoyed to concerned. She kneels down in front of Dieter and looks into his eyes, and her gaze is too heavy, it spears right through him. 

“It’s 1995. Are you concussed?”

“No, I don’t think so. I mean— Maybe. Probably, to be honest. It’s 1995?”

“Has been for five months, now,” Mulder supplies. 

Dieter nods. 

“Do you know where you are?”

“I think so… listen. You guys aren’t gonna believe this— well, Mulder might believe it— But I’m from the future.”

Scully’s concerned gaze turns right back to annoyed very quickly, and she stands back up to cross her arms. 

Mulder just chuckles. 

“How do you know our names?” He asks.

Dieter feels a little weird on the ground while they’re staring down at him, in a horny way, so he gently places Queequeg back on the gravel to stand up himself.

“Would you believe it if I said I’m from an alternate reality where you guys are the main characters in a cult classic sci-fi television series?”

Mulder blinks at him. Dieter shrugs with a sheepish grin.

“Honestly? That’s more believable than the time travel.”

Dieter smirks. 

“That’s such a Scully thing to say.”

“That is such a Scully thing to say,” Mulder agrees. 

“Oh my god.”

“I can prove it! I swear. C’mon, let’s get this little guy safe and sound in your cabin and I’ll prove everything.”

Mulder shrugs, and gives Scully one of his looks, the c’mon, let’s see where this goes look that Dieter’s so used to seeing. 

She just scoffs.

“Mulder, we don’t have time for this. People are dying left and right, you’re on a wild sea-monster chase, and half the town is—”

“Wait, Scully, look at this guy. He’s going to tell you another body’s been found in the lake. Well— half of a body.”

They all turn to the man running up from the docks, and sure enough, it plays out almost exactly how Dieter remembers from the episode. Scully’s very focused on the legs floating in the lake, but Mulder keeps eyeing him in a way that makes him wish he was wearing something more than just flimsy pajama pants. 

“Scully…” Mulder mumbles as they walk back toward their car, “I think we should hear him out.”

“Hear him out!? We should be shoving him in handcuffs, he’s the only suspect we have that isn’t mythical.”

“I’d be into that, actually,” Dieter says, holding his hands out toward them, wrists pressed together. 

Scully grimaces and Mulder smirks but he drapes an arm around her shoulder in a way that seems suspiciously protective. 

“There’s not enough evidence to cuff him, but we can at least keep him close and see what else we can get out of him.” 

“Mulder—”

“If anything, he can just dogsit for us.”

The way they’re talking about him like he’s not even there makes the tips of his ears burn.

“I’d love to dogsit! I miss Queequeg.”

“What do you mean you miss him? He’s right here.”

Dieter winces. 

“Actually that’s a big plot point in this episode,” Dieter whispers.

They stop at the car and Scully glares at him, and Mulder looks a little bit like he’s just brought a stray dog home without her permission. Dieter kinda likes it.

“You never told us your name,” Scully grills.

“Dieter. Dieter Bravo.”

Mulder huffs. 

“What kind of name is Dieter Bravo? Do you do adult films?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Fox?”

The way the giggle bubbles up out of Scully’s chest makes him preen. 

“Alright. Where do you live, Dieter?”

He winces and scratches the back of his neck.

“Los Angeles.”

“Oh brother,” Scully grumbles. 

“How did you get here then?”

“Y’know, it’s the weirdest thing. I was writing a fanfiction about the two of you and when I went to post it, I think lightning struck my house and sent me here.”

The two agents stare at him in silence for so long that Dieter has the time to question every single moment that has led up to this. He determines that this is all his therapist’s fault when Mulder finally clears his throat. 

“You can bunk with me until we get everything sorted out, alright?”

Dieter straightens up and salutes him.

“Yes, sir, Agent Mulder.”

Scully rolls her eyes and turns to open the car door for him, but Mulder smirks.

“I think I kinda like this guy, Scully.”

——

Mulder’s nice enough to let him shower and lend him spare clothes that aren’t caked in mud and grass stains, once they’re back at the cabin. He cleans up in silence trying to wrap his head around this entire pickle he’s in, and how to go about making them believe him.

He’s got his work cut out with Scully, he knows this. But he works over every bit of information he can remember from each season, each episode, to remember something that couldn’t be denied. 

They’re doing their Scully and Mulder thing when he comes out with damp hair and Mulder’s clothes on. (He definitely had to will away a half-chub at the thought of being wrapped in his things.) 

They sit around the small living room with photos and paperwork all sprawled out and Dieter feels like geeking out a little bit. This is like the world’s greatest and most interactive X-Files museum. 

“Okay. I’m going to try to do this in the best way I know how. Just— Bear with me.”

They sit back in their seats, and Dieter lifts Queequeg onto his lap to take his place on the couch. He waits for them to give him a go-ahead, but neither of them are responsive. He tries not to feel so aroused by their focused gazes. Maybe he should have jerked off in the shower, as a precaution.

“Okay then… let’s see… this is Season 3, Episode… 22? So. You guys just went through the whole Skinner thing, right? With his— his bad dreams lady killing that prostitute?”

“How do you know Skinner?”

“I told you, it’s a TV show. Skinner’s always busting your balls. Big tough assistant director business. He’s actually just a softy though, I think.”

Scully looks disinterested and a little annoyed, but Mulder’s starting to shift forward in his seat.

“What’s the show called?”

“The X-Files.”

Scully snorts. 

“How creative.”

“Okay, okay, I know. It sounds whacky. But I’ve seen the show a billion times over, I’ve been unknowingly preparing for this moment since the pilot aired.”

He takes a moment to determine what to say and how to word it before he continues.

“Okay… Well… Your first case together was that weird kid in Oregon that kept helping aliens abduct his classmates. Scully conveniently missed the UFO though. Ever the skeptic. Then… let’s see… Deep Throat turns up in the next episode. Scully, he ended up dying in your arms and his last words were trust no one.”

“Mulder, we’ve been bugged for 90 percent of the time we’ve known each other, this doesn’t mean anything.”

Dieter huffs and Mulder shrugs. 

“Keep going. Give us a deep cut, man. You gotta try harder than that.”

“When did you become the skeptic, Mulder?” 

The agent shrugs and raises his eyebrows to urge him to continue. 

“Okay… Scully, when you were at your god son’s birthday party, you told your friend that Mulder is a jerk.”

“Hey, what the hell, Scully?”

“No, I said he was just—”

“Obsessed with his work, yeah. After you called him a jerk though.”

Dieter hates to see the way Mulder’s eyebrows draw up in the middle. It’s kind of funny to see Scully so embarrassed, though. He figures he’ll keep what else she said to himself, about him being cute, because it looks like she’s praying that he doesn’t blab about it.

“You wound me, Scully.”

“Oh, yeah, and there’s the time you shot Mulder in the shoulder.”

“You’re kind of a bully, y’know?”

Scully shoves at his shoulder to prove their point, and Mulder just laughs and leans into it. 

“Do you want to know what happens in the future? Wait, if I affect the future will the show be different? I dunno how I feel about that… new X-Files episodes in 2024 would be incredible. But what if the new episodes suck, though?”

“2024? That’s what year you’re going with?” 

Dieter nods. 

“It kinda sucks. We have smartphones and streaming services and stuff but also, you wouldn’t believe who the last president was if I told you. Also there was a global pandemic. Still kinda is one, but everyone’s just ignoring it. Actually, come to think of it, you guys would thrive in 2024.”

“Do we die before then?”

“Oh, no, no, the show just finished. And then came back and then— it’s a whole thing. But neither of you die.”

“Hmm.”

Mulder hums, and Dieter knows exactly what he’s thinking. Scully too, by the faraway look on her face. Total idiots. Why couldn’t he have landed at least after the first kiss. Or even the almost-kiss?

“Well, I’m tired, and this case isn’t going to solve itself. And Queequeg needs to go potty, so, I think we’re done here.”

Dieter’s whole body feels hot, like the time he was stabbed in the chest with that epi-pen. He shoots up off the couch so fast that Queequeg yelps and hops down to cower behind Scully’s ankles.

“Wait! It’s an alligator. Literally. It’s just an ordinary alligator killing these people. And if you let Queequeg walk into the woods he’s going to get eaten and if there’s one single thing you believe me about it has to be this, okay? For Queequeg’s sake.”

Dieter’s got his hands clasped in front of him, pleading. Scully looks startled and Mulder looks awed, but he’s desperate to drive this point home. 

“…Okay. I’ll keep him close. Thank you.”

They think he’s crazy. Scully does, at least. Mulder’s just quiet, uncharacteristically so. 

“Thank you.”

“Alright,” she sighs, grabbing Queequeg’s leash and hooking him up, “goodnight guys.”

“Goodnight Scully.”

Dieter sighs and sits back down. 

“She thinks I’m insane, doesn’t she?” 

“Welcome to the club.”

Dieter chuckles and looks to Mulder. He’s still got that pensive look on his face. It suits him, all brooding with that fucking jawline and those plush lips and sad eyes. He wants to kiss him so bad. He almost says it out loud, so used to his horny musings while watching this guy on TV that his filter is a little out of whack. 

Dieter doesn’t even realize he’s staring until Mulder tilts his head at him, confused. He opens his mouth and takes a breath but the door ripping open cuts him off. 

“Mulder, there’s something in the woods; Dieter was right. I think we should check it out.”

Mulder jumps up at her beck and call and seeing it in person is even more overwhelming, how he follows her without question and trusts her, so eagerly. 

“Queequeg?”

“He’s here, can you watch him?”

Dieter nods.

“Me? Yeah, yes ma’am, Agent Scully.”

He doesn’t miss the amused look on her face just before the door slams shut behind them. 

He lies on the couch with Queequeg on his chest, enjoying the silence after the… everythingness of his day. He really wishes he could smoke some pot, but even if he could get his hands on some, he’s sure it would be weak as hell. And there’s the FBI agent thing. 

Dieter’s not sure how long he’s been staring at nothing and snuggling Queequeg when the cabin door finally opens again. 

“Did you catch the alligator?”

The eerie silence he’s met with makes him whip his head around. Scully and Mulder are staring at him. He’s pretty sure 80 percent of his X-Files fantasies have started exactly like this. 

“… We did. We caught it just in time to save Ted Bertram.”

“That’s the guy with the lake monster feet, right?”

They both nod slowly. 

Queequeg hops down from his perch on Dieter’s chest, so he sits up. 

“I told you. You guys believe me now?”

He watches as Mulder nods his head yes and Scully shakes her head no. All he can do is shrug and start wondering what’s next for him, in the year of 1995.

“Hey, do you guys need an assistant? I could tell you how to solve the next case! I think it’s the one with the mind control cable. Mulder, are you really red-green color blind? I think that was a major plot hole. How do you tell the difference between human blood and alien blood if one is red and one is green, then?”

“Mulder’s not colorblind,” Scully says. 

“Uhh… Actually, yeah. I am.”

“What? How did you pass the color vision test?”

“I’m colorblind, not an idiot. I can still tell them apart, they just look different to me than they would to you.”

“I— I can’t believe you’ve been colorblind this entire time.” 

Mulder shrugs. Then his brow quirks up.

“Why does that matter?”

“I’m not sure I should tell you. It might mess with the space-time continuum and— quantum physics, you know?”

Scully’s clearly had enough. She sighs and finally kicks off her shoes. 

“I’m grabbing a shower and clearing my head,” she says, “don’t— don’t let him out of your sight for now, Mulder.”

Mulder nods and half smiles at her. They both look pretty tired. He wants to remind them that he’s the one who traveled 29 years into the past today, but it seems like a pretty sore subject. 

They stand still and silent in the living room until Scully closes her bedroom door behind her, Queequeg in tow.

“You heard the woman. There’s a TV in my room.”

Mulder nods toward the other bedroom door and Dieter follows dutifully.

“Does it get the good channels?”

He hears Mulder chuckle and watches from behind as he sheds his jacket. He admires all those lean muscles in his back, now that he’s not wearing one of those god awful baggy suits. Maybe he should suggest a tailor, he thinks, and wonders if the later seasons would be filled with more eye candy if he did. 

“You know about that?”

“All the video tapes that aren’t yours? And the hotline lady that leaves messages on your answering machine? Yeah. You wouldn’t believe what porn is like in thirty years. You’re gonna love it.”

Dieter’s torn between looking away and staring shamelessly while Mulder unbuttons his fly. He settles for nonchalant, hoping his eyes don’t pop out of their sockets like a cartoon character when he notices the outline of Little Mulder. This is even better than the gray sweatpants in the Humbug episode. 

“I was hoping to kick the habit in thirty years’ time, actually.”

Dieter shrugs and his staring contest with Mulder’s crotch ends abruptly as he slides into a pair of pajama pants. Which is weird, because usually Mulder sleeps in his underwear. Must be the fact that he’s sharing a cabin with Scully.

Mulder throws Dieter the remote and settles onto the bed. There’s no couch in here, not even a cuck chair, so Dieter settles next to him. His whole body burns. God, if 20-year-old Dieter could see himself now, he’d ruin the pants he was wearing. 

The silence feels a little awkward, so he turns the TV on. Nineties TV is so simple. It’s easy to settle on a channel playing Invasion of the Body Snatchers and sink into the mattress under him. 

It only takes a few moments before he realizes Mulder’s staring holes into the side of his face. 

“What’s up?” Dieter asks. 

There’s so little room between them it’s making Dieter’s entire body throb along with his pulse. 

“You’re telling the truth.”

Dieter nods and tries to give him a reassuring smile. Mulder sighs and throws his head back onto the pillow. His eyes close and his brows furrow and his jaw does that sexy clenching thing again. It’s all Dieter can do to not bite at it and soothe the sting with his tongue. 

“What happens to us?”

Dieter clears his throat.

“I mean— I know, you shouldn’t affect the future, yadda yadda. I just…”

Fuck it, Dieter thinks, if I’ve already solved the case way before the episode is supposed to end, I’ve thrown everything off anyway.

“You end up together.”

Mulder lets out a big, long breath. His face instantly relaxes. His hands flex by his sides and Dieter goes out on a big giant limb and grabs one of them.

Mulder starts at the touch, but lets it happen. 

“When?”

“Way later than you should have shacked up, in my opinion.”

He grumbles. 

“My opinion, too.”

“You should make a move, then. I’m pretty sure at this point she’s only waiting for you to make a move.”

“And how do you know that?”

“Oh, it’s a whole thing involving a shapeshifting guy with a tail. Trust me. She’s got it just as bad.”

They’re still holding hands. Mulder hasn’t moved a muscle. An idea so bright pops into Dieter’s head that he’s certain there’s a lightbulb floating above him. 

“You know when you met Bambi on that cockroach case?”

Mulder nods. 

“She was so jealous. Didn’t you pick up on that?”

“I— I thought so. But I also thought she was just annoyed with me, y’know, how she usually is.”

Dieter squeezes his hand. 

“She was annoyed because she’s into you, dude. It was envy. Very, very clearly.”

He hums. 

“So? What now? Do I apologize for something that happened months ago? You apparently know Scully as well as I do, how do you think that’ll blow over? ‘Hey, sorry I made you jealous because you have a big fat crush on me.’ She’d deck me.”

Dieter shakes his head. 

“No, man. You need to make her jealous. So jealous she can’t deny why she’s upset with you.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, and I mean, why not just start right now, y’know? Get a head start on the whole thing. I mean, you’re here, I’m here, there’s only one bed…”

“If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were coming onto me.”

“I would love to come on you, actually.”

Mulder laughs, and Dieter deflates a little at the sound. But when he goes to pull his hand away, Mulder cinches it in his own. 

“Dieter…”

“Mulder.”

“We’re doing this, then?”

Dieter nods like an overexcited puppy wagging its tail. Oh my god. Oh my god. Fox Mulder in his prime, how fucking lucky can one guy be?

Mulder glances at the door to make sure it’s open. The faint sound of running water can be heard from Scully’s room, and he thinks he smells her shampoo wafting out with the steam. 

Like two nervous teenagers, they shift to face one another. Dieter brings their joined hands together on his own hip. Mulder’s palm is warm on his skin where his shirt rides high, and it makes Dieter’s breath hitch. 

Slowly, Dieter urges him to keep his hand still with a squeeze before mirroring Mulder’s, creeping his hand under his shirt and feeling his solid, trim waist.

Mulder hums into his touch and Dieter realizes this man is possibly just as touch-starved as he is. He starts swirling circles into his skin with his thumb and inches forward, but those beautiful hazel eyes hold apprehension in their timid gaze.

“What if this blows up in my face?” Mulder whispers.

“It won’t. I guarantee it. I’ll make sure of it. Trust me?”

A soft grin tugs at Mulder’s lips and he nods, and it’s all the permission Dieter needs.

Christ, his lips are soft. Soft and plush and exactly how Dieter imagined only a million times better. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this good, not on any drug, and they’re just kissing. 

It’s chaste until he feels Mulder’s tongue prod at the seam of his lips and then it’s filthy. As soon as Dieter opens his mouth to him, Mulder takes it with a grunt. His blunt nails dig into the soft flesh at Dieter’s hip as he traces the arch of his bottom teeth. Dieter tries to keep up, but his brain constantly shorts out at the thought of who’s tongue is poking and prodding around in his mouth. 

He’s a great fucking kisser. His tongue tickles the roof of Dieter’s mouth and it makes him shiver, makes his cock swell against his borrowed sweatpants, against Mulder. 

He doesn’t seem deterred. Quite the opposite actually. He tugs Dieter by the hip and presses his own solid prick right up against Dieter’s, and they both groan into the sloppy kiss. 

“It’s been quite a while,” Mulder says. 

Dieter can’t tell if the huffed little laugh is directed toward the eager way he chases Mulder’s lips, or toward himself for being out of practice. He likes the thought of either. 

“For me, too,” Dieter mumbles. 

Mulder hums and rolls his hips. As their dicks press together and twitch, Dieter decides they are not naked enough by any means. 

He presses his hand up, up, bringing Mulder’s shirt with it and grabbing a handful of his sturdy pec, admiring how stiff it feels under his palm when his lungs inflate. He gets with the program, and Dieter pulls his own shirt over his head, then promptly salivates over all the lean muscles and wiry hair and pale skin in front of him. 

“Fuck,” he breathes.

It’s not until Mulder’s breath hitches does he realize he might actually be into this, not just their plan, but being here in bed with Dieter. His pretty hazel eyes are dark now, pupils blown out, and his chest is heaving, and the tent in his pajama pants is far too enticing to resist. 

Dieter reaches down to cup him through the flannel material and Mulder gasps and falls flat onto his back. His eyes close and his jaw hangs open like an invitation. Dieter wiggles and shifts to press up against the length of his side and to finally press his face into the crook of his neck. 

The hint of aftershave that’s been teasing him all day is now overwhelming his senses, sharp and spicy. Dieter is delighted to know that his skin tastes just as delicious as it smells, salty and heady under his tongue. Mulder’s prick throbs in his grasp and Dieter’s torn between wanting to tease him over his pants and feel the hot skin of his cock in his palm. 

“Feels good,” Mulder whispers. 

“Yeah?”

“Mmm.”

Dieter nips at his racing pulse first, then down to his jaw and the impressive five o’clock shadow he’s always been jealous and in awe of. The prickly hairs there tickle his tongue and lips, and he grinds into the outside of Mulder’s thigh for a bit of relief. 

“You think about Scully doing this?” 

The way Mulder’s dick jolts in his grasp is answer enough, but he speaks up anyway. 

“Yes.”

The admission is so hot it makes Dieter’s brain spin. He himself has thought of it many times before, Scully torturing him with teasing touches, her little sharp canines digging into his flesh, but the thought of Mulder thinking of it too… 

All those heated glances Dieter’s mulled over, he wonders how many of those were fueled by Mulder’s dirty thoughts about her. Wonders how many times he’s seen a flash of something in Mulder’s gaze and it’s been him fantasizing about getting Scully in bed. 

Dieter huffs against the heated skin of Mulder’s neck before he pulls back. His head his thrown back, eyes squeezed shut, and he’s fucking gorgeous. He lightens his touch, teases the underside of his cock with one fingertip, and delights in the pleasure scrawled across Mulder’s face. 

“How often?”

Mulder’s gravelly chuckle is cut off by a low groan when Dieter presses against his sac over his pajamas. 

“All the time,” he confesses, “every time.”

“In the office?”

Mulder whimpers and nods his head. 

“On the job, in the field?”

“God yes.”

Dieter hums, squeezes his balls to goad him into continuing.

“When she— when she’s so serious, it’s hot. She’s so smart, it turns me on.”

Dieter smirks. He completely sympathizes.

“You like it when she debunks you?”

Mulder whines and nods his head again. Dieter tries his hardest not to react to the sound of the water shutting off across the cabin, or Scully’s door creaking open. Instead, he shoves his hand down Mulder’s pants and hopes to god he keeps his eyes closed, hopes Scully’s ever present need to call out his name is tampered down when she inevitably hears him talking. 

Mulder gasps and raises his hips into the circle of Dieter’s hand, and his brows furrow as he shuts his eyes even tighter.

“Why?”

Mulder moans. 

“Because she— she balances me out. Makes me feel even. Whole.”

Dieter chuckles. 

“Aww, does she complete you, Foxy?” 

He scoffs but bites his lip when Dieter thumbs at his head and spreads his slick, sticky pre-cum all around. 

“Tell me what you think about, Mulder.”

His breathing is so ragged that Dieter thinks he should maybe be concerned. But he can tell things are about to come to a head, can hear Scully’s little footsteps inching closer to their room, pointedly quiet. 

“Her, I think about her body against mine. And touching her.”

As if on cue, fiery red hair peeks through the door frame. Dieter’s got his free hand up and a finger at his lips before Scully’s face can even twist up in concern and shock. He gives her a pleading look as she stands stock-still and wide-eyed. 

“Where would you touch Scully, if she was here?”

“Everywhere. Anywhere she wants me to. I just wanna make her feel good.”

Dieter turns his head back to Mulder to confirm that his eyes are still closed. They are, positively scrunched shut as sweat threatens to penetrate his brows and slip into his eyes.

“Do you wanna taste her?” 

Mulder’s breath hitches and his cock pulses and dribbles more against Dieter’s hand. 

“Yes, yes, so bad. I think about it every time I— every time I touch myself.”

Dieter turns back to Scully. Her hair is damp and her silky pajama top is unbuttoned more than it was just a moment ago. It just barely hides her heaving chest and he has a hard time not giving her away when he realizes his plan is working. Her lips are parted and wet, like she’s licked them, and god he really fucking hopes they don’t kick him out once this all comes to a head. 

“You do?” 

“Mm-hmm,” Mulder nods, “I could spend the rest of my life down there and die happy.”

Dieter chuckles then, and Mulder does too, but he opens his eyes. It takes him just a second to blink and adjust but, ever the vigilant one, his eyes jolt toward the now closed bedroom door and Scully standing in front of it. His body goes stiff and still, aside from his prick, which twitches wildly in Dieter’s grasp. 

Mulder’s voice cracks amusingly around Scully’s name. She crosses her arms and lifts one of her perfectly shaped eyebrows as she shuffles to the foot of the bed. 

“Boys.”

Dieter smiles sheepishly at her. Mulder’s staring and gaping like a fish out of water, all tense now, one elbow on the bed so he can prop himself up. Dieter doesn’t miss the way Scully’s eyes trace over his naked torso or the activity going on at the front of Mulder’s pajamas. 

“Is it true, Mulder?”

He’s nodding his head before she can even finish the question. 

“Yeah, Scully. I—” 

He cuts himself off when Dieter squeezes and strokes him, and Scully’s gaze is locked on the movement.

“It certainly feels like the truth,” Dieter supplies. 

Mulder whimpers under him and Dieter swears he sees Scully’s ears perk up at the sound, like some kind of predator. 

“Mulder, c’mere.”

God, the way he follows so readily, like he always does, it warms Dieter’s heart just as much as it makes his dick throb. He kneels on the edge of the bed right in front of her. His cock is protruding obscenely out in front of him, but Scully doesn’t seem to care about that. 

No, she’s focused on his face instead where it’s settled gently between her dainty hands. God, the way they look at each other is so fucking intoxicating. Dieter’s bound by it, physically stuck on the mattress as he watches. 

Her brows furrow slightly as she looks at him, but Mulder’s face is slack, almost dazed as he meets her eyes. 

“What did he tell you, Mulder?” 

Mulder shifts awkwardly from knee to knee. His mouth opens and closes a few times, and she giggles under her breath. 

“You’re not in trouble.”

Dieter laughs, and god, it’s so fucking weird. It’s like he’s watching a director’s cut. 

Mulder sighs, though. 

“We end up together, Scully. You and me. And I— I believe it. I believed it long before this guy showed up, and it… Out of everything I believe, everything I’ve been working toward… it might be the only belief I have that keeps me going.”

Scully’s gaze grows soft as his confession, and Dieter refrains from squealing in delight at how sweet Mulder sounds and how Mulder it all is.

“Why now, then?”

Mulder huffs and tries to turn away, but she keeps his face tight in her grasp. His cheeks are so pink. 

“Just worked up the guts, I guess.”

Dieter doesn’t miss the quick flicker of Scully’s eyes down to his lips. His fingers twitch with the urge to smash their faces together. 

She sighs and brushes some errant strands of hair from Mulder’s forehead. 

“Well,” she says, and her voice wavers with a heavy breath, “I’m glad one of us did.”

Mulder visibly melts. His shoulders slump and he leans forward into her touch. His face loses all of that tension from earlier, and his lips look loose when Scully’s own finally brushes against them. 

He’s so gentle with her, in a way he definitely wasn’t with Dieter. His hands are nearly hovering over her with how lightly he places them on her waist. His lips stay slack and still as he lets her control the kiss. The only thing giving him away is the comical bobbing of his prick disrupting the front of his pajamas, and there’s no way Dieter can blame him for that. 

One of Scully’s hands tangles in Mulder’s hair and produces a beautiful, high pitched sound that Dieter and Scully both react to. 

She pulls away. Mulder chases her lips, but her grip on his hair tightens. He curses under his breath with a face more flushed than Dieter’s ever seen on him.

Her eyes flicker over to Dieter and he feels like a deer in headlights. Why is he still here? Is this weird, is he being a creep for staying? 

“C’mere,” she mumbles, tipping her head to urge him to kneel right beside Mulder on the bed. 

He does, of course he does. He wants to be good for her, for them.

He kneels, shoulder to shoulder with the man panting beside him. He grasps his hands behind his back and waits patiently as she looks the both of them over. 

“What did I walk in on, Dieter?”

The way his name sounds coming from her low, rasping voice makes his spine tingle. 

“It was my idea, Agent Scully. I was trying to make you jealous. I’m sorry.”

She clicks her tongue and the noise makes his cock throb. 

“And you went along with this plan?”

She looks back to Mulder and Dieter shivers. He instantly misses the warmth of her gaze. 

“I— yeah. I did... It worked, didn’t it?”

Scully’s eyes narrow, and Dieter can’t tell if Mulder’s an idiot or a genius for riling her up. He should have known Fox Mulder would be a brat. He thinks if he plays his cards right, maybe Scully will forget the whole plot and he can be her good boy while Mulder gets punished for his smart mouth. 

A whimper falling from Mulder’s parted lips knocks him out of his daze and he notices Scully’s grip all tight in his floppy hair. 

Fuck, he wishes that were him. Maybe he should mouth off too, maybe then he’ll get the attention that he craves. 

“Get on your knees, Mulder.”

“I am on my knees.”

Dieter gasps as Scully tugs on his hair and leaves him no choice but to scramble off of the edge of the bed, lest she rip all that perfectly coiffed hair out of his head. His shoulders rise and fall with baited breath when he’s finally sunken his knees on the gaudy rug on the hardwood floors. Dieter whimpers and no one’s even touching him. 

“You too, time bandit.”

Dieter gets whiplash with how quickly he gets on his knees for her. He breathes out a labored ‘yes ma’am’ and Mulder throws him a look of disbelief. He shrugs, what can I say?

They’re both rock hard for her, on the floor, staring up at her. She looks like an angel, or the devil, or maybe like God herself. Her breathing is suspiciously calm compared to their own, even though her nipples create tantalizing nubs at the front of her silk pajamas. 

“Keep your eyes forward, both of you.”

Dieter nods at her commanding voice. He wants to look to Mulder for— direction? Comfort? Some kind of trauma bonding? But he doesn’t. He wants to be good. 

He hears Scully behind them, bed creaking under her weight, sheets ruffling underneath her. There’s a pregnant pause where all of their heavy breathing can be heard and the anticipation is so much Dieter might explode on the spot. 

“Strip.”

Twin breaths release from both Dieter and Mulder and he swears he hears her giggle behind them. He’s quick to comply, tugging at the drawstring of Mulder’s sweats he’s borrowed and awkwardly shuffling them off while he tries to stay kneeling. 

He notices Mulder still motionless beside him. 

“Scully…”

Idiot, Dieter thinks. 

“Good boy, Dieter, doing exactly what I say.”

He can’t help the satisfied smirk that twists his lips up, or the way the back of his neck burns at the praise. In his peripheral, Mulder hastily shucks his pajama pants. 

He has a pretty cock. Dieter knew he would. Everything else about him is pretty. It’s long and lean, just like he is, and the upward curve of it makes him jealous. It’s going to feel so good for Scully, if she lets him fuck her. 

There’s more shuffling behind them, and he flinches when a pair of satin pajama pants land on the floor in front of both of them. He has to dig his nails into his thighs to resist the urge to turn around. Something nudges his arm. He doesn’t dare move his head, but from the corner of his eye he sees a pale, smooth leg and his breath catches in his chest. 

He hears Mulder curse under his breath and can nearly feel the tension in him vibrating out energy into this rickety old cabin. Dieter feels a gentle hand in the short curls at the back of his neck just a moment later, her nails scraping his scalp just right, and his leg may just start shaking like a dog’s.

“You want to taste me, Mulder?”

“Fuck yes, Scully, please.”

She hums. Her hand in Dieter’s hair stills. 

“Go on, then.”

A lightning flash of movement stirs beside him, but Dieter keeps dutifully still. He’s twitching in anticipation but he doesn’t dare turn to look. 

Scully sighs, all breathy and high-pitched, and Dieter’s never heard a more beautiful sound. Then Mulder whimpers, and it’s muffled by Scully’s thighs, and there’s a wet smacking noise and Dieter thinks this obscene music could be a platinum album. 

Scully gasps, and Mulder groans, and Dieter aches. He can smell her, a sharp and tangy scent of arousal underneath the flowery soap and shampoo. Her hand is still in his hair and it hasn’t moved since Mulder got down to business and he feels forgotten about but in the best way.

“Dieter, honey, you can watch.”

He breathes out with relief and shifts to get a good look of the action. She’s perfect, gorgeous, breathtaking. Her silky pajama top hangs open on her pointy shoulders and her perky breasts rise and fall with her breathing. Her nipples are a brownish pink that stand erect in a way that makes his mouth water like a leaky faucet.

Her toned, porcelain legs spread wide enough to accommodate Mulder’s shoulders. The man is greedy, and Dieter can’t see a thing aside from the triangle of copper curls on her mound. He wants to nuzzle them so bad, he wants to feel them tickle his nose, smell the arousal that catches there. 

“You taste so good.”

Mulder’s words are squished against her center. Dieter whimpers at the thought of her flavor. Her hand soothes through his hair. He wants to touch his cock so badly, but Scully hasn’t told him that he’s allowed. Instead, he balls his hands into fists and bites his lip. 

Scully moans, and Dieter watches her face fall slack with pleasure. 

“Feels good, just like that.”

Dieter can’t help the sounds that eke out of him, desperate and a little pained. He’s so hard that he’s lightheaded, but Scully’s firm grip on his hair grounds him just enough. 

“Don’t be selfish, Mulder.”

He makes a questioning noise between her legs. He looks up at her with wide eyes, mouth open, tongue out and flat against her slit. 

“Give him a taste.”

“Oh fuck, please.”

Dieter can see the reluctance in Mulder’s motions, like he’s struggling to break free from her orbit. He looks so fucking hot, absolutely wrecked. His plush lips are red and shiny and his chin is dripping and his pupils completely usurp his irises. Drunk, drugged off of Scully.

He leans away from Dieter to make room between her legs but she tugs his hair. Then she tugs Dieter’s hair, and their noses are bumping together before either man can put two and two together. 

He can smell her on his breath. It’s so intoxicating that he loses any crumb of decorum he may have had left. He licks a broad swipe from Mulder’s chin to his Cupid’s bow and groans at all the slick he’s able to lap up. 

Mulder’s mouth opens up to him, and he chases the taste of her off of his tongue, his teeth, his gums, anywhere. They’re both panting into each other's mouths, exchanging breath. Dieter feels a big, strong hand on his jaw and neck, and the contrast to Scully’s smaller, gentler touch has him leaking all over the rug underneath him. He feels like he’s drowning, and he just wants to go even deeper, like even death won’t be enough. 

He waits for Scully to say anything about Mulder touching him. When she doesn’t, he takes it as permission to reach up and find purchase in his hair. His fingers tingle when they find Scully’s still there, and his whole body shudders and twitches when she links her fingers with his. 

“You want more?” 

It’s depraved, the way they both pull away from the kiss so fast. Dieter’s nodding and looking toward her, her glistening cunt, her smooth skin and her mischievous gaze. 

“Please, Scully,” Mulder mumbles. 

His head lolls back against Scully’s thigh so he can look up at her. He looks like he’s just run a marathon, the way sweat is beading at his forehead and his chest is heaving. 

“Yes, please, Agent Scully.”

She chuckles. The sound is torture and it’s bliss. She ruffles Dieter’s hair and he hums and leans into it. Mulder whimpers at the lack of attention, so she ruffles his too. 

And then she spreads her thighs even wider, like, gymnast levels of flexibility, and both of their eyes are drawn to the way her lips spread open in invitation, puffy red, her clit all swollen while she drips onto the old comforter under her.

“Think you can share?”

Dieter curses. Mulder whimpers against her thigh.

“Play nice, boys.”

Mulder looks at him with a heated gaze that makes him a little bit scared but really really horny.

“Yes ma’am,” Dieter says, but he’s staring at Mulder. 

Be good, he’s trying to tell him through telepathy, we’ll get rewarded if you’re just good.

Mulder glances up at her, bats his pretty little eyes, and licks his slick lips. 

“Yes ma’am.”

It sounds more teasing than anything, but Dieter doesn’t miss the way she squirms when Mulder says it. He just has that effect, doesn’t he? Such a charming little shit. 

He and Dieter look at each other, assessing, when Mulder finally goes low. It’s a little bit awkward, at first. Dieter’s jaw prods at Mulder’s sharp cheekbone as they find a good position. 

He traces around her clit with a pointed tongue, delicately, so eager to work her up. He can hear Mulder’s tongue fucking in and out of her, a wet cacophony of sounds that make his ears ring. So much so that he nearly doesn’t catch the sounds of Scully’s breath hitching, her soft little mewls as her hips cant up into their faces. 

He’s hyper focused on her pleasure, so lost in it that he doesn’t even recognize how turned on he is until a heavy, warm hand wraps around his cock and he nearly blows his load. His tongue presses broadly against Scully’s clit when he groans. She curses and her hand tightens in his hair and it’s so much. 

He reaches out for anything, really, but Mulder’s cock is there, hard and proud and twitching when he wraps his hand around him. He finds solace in the fact that he’s leaking just as much as Dieter is, sticky and slick all the way down the underside of his shaft. His noises get breathier, and his tongue seeks higher ground just as Dieter’s travels lower. They lap at her folds together, briefly, trapping them between their tongues, trading their tastes as she whines above them. Dieter doesn’t even realize his free hand has grasped Scully’s slender hip until she squirms against it. 

All of a sudden, Dieter feels her go stiff under his grasp. Her hand tightens in his hair just shy of enough to make him lose it. She lets out stuttered little sounds and Mulder hums below him. 

“You like that, Scully?”

“Oh my god, Mulder.”

He groans and shifts and she begs and Dieter’s aroused haze clears enough to make him realize that he’s eating her ass. 

He makes a pained sound himself and sucks Scully’s throbbing clit into his mouth. She shakes, and her stiff body loosens just enough for her to roll her hips into them. 

“Don’t— don’t stop, I’m so close. I’m gonna come.”

Neither of them would dream of stopping, not for anything. Dieter works his tongue in pulses against her clit as he suckles, and he feels Mulder slip a finger in between them just as she cries out, loud, and falls apart against their tongues. 

Dieter drinks up the way her clit jerks and pulses between his lips. He drinks up her gasps and breathy noises. He drinks up the way Mulder’s cock mirrors his own, twitching with pure arousal at the way she’s coming just for them.

They’re both humming satisfied sounds as they work her through it. Their hands on each other’s cocks have stilled completely, just a loose grasp as they coax every last bit of pleasure out of her until she’s lax and shying away from them. 

Dieter pulls away first. He watches with a sticky feeling in his chest at the way Mulder kisses her holes gently, and the skin around them, nuzzling between her thighs so tenderly. Both his hands free, now, Mulder soothes them up the outside of her thighs as they tremble in her aftershocks. 

Mulder’s babbling, Dieter realizes, once the ringing in his ears finally subsides. Just under his breath, a chant, over and over.

“So perfect, Scully, thank you, thank you, Jesus Christ, Scully…”

Dieter settles back on his heels to keep gazing at them. Scully’s hands both pet through his hair as he leaves wet kisses that make her pale thighs glisten in the dim cabin lighting. He’s panting harder than she is, and his prick dribbles and twitches, and he looks up at her through misty eyes. 

“Oh, Mulder,” she sighs.

She bends down at the same time he arches up and their lips meet in a kiss so blindingly passionate that Dieter debates whether or not he should look away. Only for a split second though. Because Scully moans into his mouth and licks herself out of it and Dieter grabs his throbbing dick at the base to chill himself out. 

Mulder’s fingers run through her damp hair so gently, but his jaw works and his mouth takes from her in stark contrast. They look so goddamn good together, it’s insane. He’s torn between holding off to see how this plays out, or coming all over himself in three strokes or less as he watches them together. 

“Come up here, Mulder.”

Her voice is intoxicating, it sounds so fucked out and blissful. She shuffles up the bed some and Mulder chases her, always touching at some point, until she’s lying back and he’s covering her body with his own. 

He dwarfs her. It’s cute, in the show, the way she’s always looking up at him with a craned neck. Now, it’s just filthy, how Mulder’s cock looks so fucking huge lying hard against her small frame. The way he has to scrunch himself up to kiss her so his prick doesn’t go anywhere it’s not supposed to, yet. The way her tiny feet rub up and down Mulder’s calves, only half their size. 

The way his hand eclipses her face when he cradles it and pulls away. How his thumb sweeps so easily from her lips to her cheekbone as he sighs. 

“Scully…”

She hums and closes her eyes and smiles, a sated and relieved grin that makes her look so serenely beautiful. 

“I know, Mulder,” she sighs, “me too.”

Dieter huffs. Chris Carter himself couldn’t have created a more Mulder and Scully-esque love confession. It’s precious. He might cry. 

Unfortunately, the sound makes them both look over. Scully’s all relaxed but Mulder’s hackles are all raised, like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t. Dieter slowly moves his hand away from his leaking cock and feels himself blush from his face down to his nipples. 

He’s caught in their crosshairs, stuck, eerily still and silent. Should he offer to leave? He really doesn’t want to leave. Maybe he can just peek through the keyhole of the door and leave them to it. 

“You too, Dieter,” Scully says, “get up here.”

Relief floods through him and makes his limbs all tingly. He’s nervous as he stands, gently making his way to the side of the bed and settling one knee on, then the other. Mulder shifts to the opposite side of Scully, their legs still tangled, as he watches Dieter with emotion he can’t quite put a name to. 

Dieter practically purrs when he slides right into their space. His cock drags a sticky design onto Scully’s smooth thigh and he apologizes, but she just chuckles and gently scratches her nails along his scalp. 

“Are you both going to be good for me?”

The tone of her voice makes them both shiver. Mulder huffs out a laugh but Dieter gasps as she tugs a little at his messy, sweaty curls. 

“Yes ma’am, Agent Scully.”

Dieter’s voice completely betrays him. He’s so turned on. There’s so much blood pumping to his cock that there’s a real and serious threat of him passing out. He hides his face in her shoulder and tries to even out his breathing and not hump her leg like an unruly dog. 

“I’ll be good for you, Scully.”

Mulder sounds a lot more in control. His deep, syrupy voice is just shy of even, only cracking on the second syllable of her name. Dieter feels the way she starts giggling before he hears it, her shoulders jostling with it. 

“You’re going to play by the rules, Mulder?”

He chuckles and it sounds dark, and Dieter opens his eyes to watch him smirk that irresistible smirk. 

“Hell, Scully, I’d write the rules over and over on the chalkboard to keep this going.”

She rolls her eyes at him, but she’s still grinning. His eyes flicker to her lips and there’s no hesitation this time when they kiss again. It’s tame and loose, until Scully wraps her dainty hand around his cock and he groans. Dieter matches his sound, and he just can’t help it, he rolls his hips into Scully’s thigh as he watches Mulder melt into a puddle against her. She bites at his plush bottom lip before she pulls back. 

“Fuck me, then.”

“Jesus,” they both say in unison. 

Scully bites her lip to keep in her giggles and it’s cute and debauched and insane. She’s insane. She’s going to kill them both, and Dieter’s going to return to his reality with 8 less seasons of The X-Files, and a season finale where Scully gets locked up for double homicide.

Mulder shuffles to straddle her. Dieter watches his heavy eyelids flutter and his jaw hang open and knows he likely looks the same. His cock twitches heavily where it hangs below him, and Scully teases the underside of it with her fingertips. He shivers, and so does Dieter, where he rocks his hips gently into Scully’s smooth skin. 

“You’re sure, Scully?” 

Dieter turns away and hides his heated face in the duvet. It’s too tender and raw and he doesn’t deserve to watch them love each other like this. 

“Positive, Mulder.”

He hears them kissing, wet, smacking sounds that give Dieter goosebumps. And then a whimper, a huff, muffled into Scully’s mouth and he drags his face away from its hiding spot. 

Mulder’s inching inside of her slowly, so slowly, with patience Dieter couldn’t even dream of. He cranes his neck to watch her take him, inch by inch. She looks so tight, and he bets she is, if the way Mulder’s eyes are squeezed shut is any indication.

Scully’s head tips back and breaks their kiss. Her eyes roll into the back of her head before she closes them. Her chest is heaving now with shallow breaths, her nipples taut and inviting.

“Oh my god,” she whispers. 

Mulder’s hips stay flush once he’s all the way in and he pants too. It looks like it takes all the strength he has to just flutter his eyes open and look down at her. His brows furrow and he licks his lips and gasps. 

“Scully,” he whines. 

She smirks, and christ, Dieter knows she’s clenching around him like a menace. Poor Mulder. He’s got the restraint of a god, he thinks, Dieter wouldn’t have made it even halfway inside of her. 

She soothes him by brushing the hair from his forehead, all damp with sweat. She does the same to Dieter and he hums as her fingertips massage his scalp. 

Mulder pulls out just as slowly as he entered her. She‘s soaked. He can hear it so well in the stilted silence of the room. When he pushes back in, she sighs and tightens her fist in Dieter’s hair and he needs something. He rocks against her again, and again, and the steady friction makes him gasp. 

Her hand slides down to the back of his neck and guides him to her breast. His cock throbs, deliciously trapped between his stomach and her silky skin. His tongue tests the waters, swirling around the pronounced peak of her nipple. When she sighs and arches into it, he takes it into his mouth and sucks. 

The noises she’s making are perfect. High pitched, breathy, needy. She’s letting herself go to Dieter and Mulder and it’s gorgeous. He presses his cock against her even harder and closes his eyes and whines around the bud in his mouth. 

Mulder’s starting to pick up the pace. Dieter can tell by the way her breast is jiggling just slightly under his mouth. And the sounds, god, the filthy slick sounds coming from her cunt. He’s leaking all over her just thinking about what it must feel like, how snugly Mulder must fit inside of her, how warm it is. 

As if Mulder could read his mind, he gasps out and his hips stutter against her. 

“It’s so good, Scully.”

Scully arches her back to grind down onto him and moans his name and tells him she needs more and Dieter bites down on her tender skin. 

She jolts and tugs his hair and curses and he looks up at her as he soothes it with his tongue. 

She’s the poster girl of pleasure. Her face is twisted with it, every beautiful feature dripping with tension. The length of her neck is so apparent with her head thrown back, and her skin is pink and looks hot to the touch. She begins to bounce when Mulder fucks her faster and harder. Dieter wants to do something, anything to make her feel good. 

He replaces his mouth with his hand, squeezing her flesh and teasing her nipple with his fingertips. He trails kisses up her chest, little love bites and suction until he reaches just below her ear. Her pulse is fluttering rapidly under his tongue, and she keens just as she turns her head and presses their lips together. 

They’re kissing. He’s kissing Scully. Oh god, her lips are so fucking soft against his. Her tongue ripples in his mouth and it tastes so good, minty with a hint of her arousal straight from Mulder’s lips. He whines and rolls his hips against her like he’s in heat, and he’s so close, and he wonders if she’d be mad if he came all over her warm, smooth, freshly showered skin. 

She jolts against him, against them, and bites down on Dieter’s lip with an almost pained noise. She turns away from Dieter and they both look to Mulder, who’s circling her puffy clit with his thumb as he fucks her. 

He’s looking to her for direction with a glazed expression. He looks like he’s hanging by a thread. 

“Here,” she whispers, and takes two of her fingers into her own mouth. 

Christ. The way her lips look wrapped around her two digits is sinful and debauched. Mulder must think the same, because he grabs her wrist and makes her stop. 

Dieter holds his breath as he waits for his next move. Is he going to pin her arms to the bed? Is he going to stretch them over her head and make her squirm on his cock, make her beg? 

It’s sweeter than that. Of course it is, with these two. Mulder brings her hand to his lips and kisses her palm, and then her knuckles. She sighs his name, and watches Mulder smile.

That soft, dopey smile gets an edge to it. 

“Let me, please,” he whispers. 

Dieter only gets the chance to be confused for half a second when he slips those two fingers into his own mouth. 

Scully gasps and moans and wiggles against him. Fuck, it’s beautiful. Mulder’s full lips take her all the way to the last knuckle and he hollows his cheeks as he sucks them. Scully’s hips squirm and rock and the way she moves against him is a sight. Mulder groans when Scully begins to thrust her fingers in and out, just a little, not enough to choke him but enough to make him close his eyes and sigh and start slowly fucking her again. 

They leave his mouth all wet and shiny. Mulder’s tongue tries to follow them and it makes Scully huff out a weak laugh. 

“You’re too good at that, Mulder.”

He hums, tries to hide his sheepish smile by ducking his head. But Scully grips his chin with her wet fingers to prevent it. His eyes struggle to focus on her, Dieter notices. He can’t blame him, it’s like staring into the sun. 

“Why don’t you show off to your little time traveler, huh?”

He opens his mouth, but no words come out. His eyes dart nervously from Scully to Dieter. 

“I— what?”

“Don’t be dense. Make him come. Make me come. You can multitask, can’t you?”

Dieter lies as still as the dead, afraid that if he moves maybe Mulder will snap out of this horny daze and tell him to get lost. He wouldn’t blame him one bit, either, but god he really wants to see this man’s lips wrapped around his cock. 

Scully chuckles at Mulder’s frozen stature. Or maybe she’s chuckling at the way Dieter’s heartbeat is pulsing through his dick against her thigh, dribbling all over it. 

“I bet you’re so good at it,” she continues to tease him, “with these pretty lips?” 

Mulder huffs and squirms when she rubs the pads of her wet fingers against his mouth. His tongue peeks out to taste them, coax them back inside him, but she doesn’t let him. 

“For me, Mulder?”

And Dieter can’t help but grin, because he’s never seen such a visceral loss of resolve so clearly before. Mulder closes his eyes and whines and nods his head. 

Scully makes a satisfied little noise, and her free hand sneaks down to squeeze Dieter’s slick cock, and he has to bite his own lip really hard to keep from losing it before the fun even begins. 

Then there’s some awkward repositioning and shuffling, mostly on his end. He kneels just above Scully’s head, and when he looks down she’s grinning like the Cheshire Cat from under his cock. He has to reach down to collect some of the pre-cum oozing out of him to keep it from dripping onto her gorgeous face, but she grabs his wrist and licks it from his fingers anyway. 

And then there’s Mulder, who’s slowly thrusting in and out of his partner like it’s second-nature, like auto-pilot, as he surveys the scene in front of him. 

“Mulder,” Scully mumbles. 

The deep, breathy, commanding tone of her voice makes Dieter shiver. 

“Yeah, Scully?”

“Make us come. Then you can.”

He groans, and his hips stutter then slam into her. Dieter’s torn between looking at the blissed-out look on Mulder’s face or the mischievous look in Scully’s eyes. 

“Are you— are you sure?” Dieter asks. 

Like an idiot, looking a gift horse in the mouth. But how can he not? They’re so perfect, so made for each other, and he’s just some weird fucking guy. 

But then Mulder’s expression turns into something darker, determined, and he nods with glassy eyes. 

“C’mon, McFly.”

And that’s all the encouragement Dieter needs, really. He widens his knees to line his cock up with those shiny, plush lips. Mulder gives Scully one last glance before he’s craning his neck forward and closing his eyes. 

Scully and Dieter gasp at precisely the same time, just as Mulder’s tongue swipes at his frenulum. Dieter’s eyes lose focus as he watches Mulder open his mouth wider, then looks past to see Scully’s icy blue gaze fixated on everything going on above her. It’s like an erotic kaleidoscope, the way they’re all blending together in pleasure. 

He suckles on Dieter’s head, a little too hard, but he thinks it might be on purpose. He hisses and grabs Mulder’s hair in one clammy, shaking hand. His tongue works the underside of his cock as he fits more into his mouth, and Scully was right, he is way too good at this. 

Scully curses under them, and only then does Dieter notice she’s touching herself as Mulder keeps pumping into her with a shaky, stilted rhythm. 

“So good, Mulder.”

His responding moan turns into a whimper as Dieter’s prick slides across the back of his tongue and hits his throat. 

“Fuck, yeah, so good,” Dieter agrees. 

It’s more than good. It’s incredible, unbelievable. He watches Mulder’s shiny, puffy lips wrapped around him, so in awe of how gorgeous he is. His pretty eyes are closed, half concentration and half bliss as he slides in and out of Scully’s dripping cunt. 

It takes him a while to find a rhythm that works, but when he finds his groove he fucking finds it. Of course he’d be good at this, too. He fucks in and out of Scully once, twice, and then sinks his mouth down as far as he can on Dieter’s cock (all the fucking way— Jesus christ) and holds there while he pumps in and out of her some more. 

And Dieter’s so, so torn. He wants to be good for Scully, wants to challenge Mulder for her and keep up the show. He wants to hang on so she can crumble as she watches her partner taking and receiving so perfectly at the same time.

But he wants to be good for Mulder too. He wants to come in his mouth and give him the satisfaction of satisfying. He wants to let Mulder prove to Scully how good he is, let him make them both come and writhe under his skill and rapt attention. 

And it’s like Scully can sense it. With her free hand, she reaches up and cups his balls. It makes his fucking toes curl, makes him cry out her name and slam his eyes shut to stave it off. He’s being tagged teamed by the objects of some of his earliest sexual fantasies and it takes him biting his lip so hard he draws blood to keep it together. 

He realizes the noises he’s making are borderline embarrassing. He’s mewling and gasping and whimpering as she squeezes and strokes, as her fingers meet Mulder’s lips every time he takes him deep. He’s shaking with the effort it takes to not fuck Mulder’s mouth. And he’s sweating, and he hopes to god it doesn’t start to trickle down and land on Scully’s blissed-out face.

And then it doesn’t much matter, because those dainty fingers and well-kept nails travel back, across his taint, and press. 

“I can’t— I can’t, oh my god.”

Mulder hums around his cock in an echo of the noise Scully makes under him. He’s teetering on the edge, tensed up, out of his mind as Scully massages that spot and Mulder swirls his tongue around the head of his cock. 

And in sync, like they always are, in a way that takes him completely off guard but should be absolutely predictable, they unravel him. 

Mulder takes him down his throat and swallows, and the pad of one of Scully’s fingers taps his entrance, and he’s done. 

He might scream, if he’s being honest. There was never any hope for a warning, the way they ganged up to play him like a fucking fiddle. Mulder groans as the first explosive spurt of Dieter’s cum shoots down his throat. He pulls back as Dieter continues to spill with each spasm of his muscles, as he tries but fails to suck Scully’s finger up inside him. He writhes and curses and clenches Mulder’s hair a little too tight as he works through his orgasm. 

Mulder dutifully collects every last drop, extremely intent on keeping it from spilling down across Scully’s face. He is such a good boy for her. Mulder whimpers when she tells him so in her breathy, sexy way she does. His hips stutter inside of her just as Dieter slips from his swollen lips. 

He doesn’t get reprieve yet, though. Mulder’s long, lean body arches up, and his arm reaches to grab a fist full of Dieter’s hair and tug and oh, god, he might just come again.

Their lips crash together, and before Dieter can think of how metallic the taste is, Mulder’s pushing his own load into his mouth forcefully. Dieter takes it all, sucks it down and swallows as he pants against Mulder’s mouth. 

Then he thanks him, and he thanks Scully, over and over with baited breath until he collapses to the side of them, completely spent and overstimulated. 

“You did so good,” he hears Scully say. 

Only she’s not talking to him. 

She’s got both her hands on Mulder’s face. Her lips just brushing against his own as she whispers. He watches her hike her legs up to wrap around Mulder’s waist, watches Mulder sag into her so he’s plastered against her front. 

“Scully,” Mulder whines. 

“Harder, Mulder. Make me come.”

He kisses her one last time before he buries his face in her neck and obeys, pulling nearly all the way out of her before driving back in. She’s really vocal now, now that she has Mulder’s undivided attention, now that he can focus on fucking her steadily and deep and fast.

Her head is thrown back and she looks so fucking beautiful. Mulder should be looking at her, shouldn’t miss a moment of the way she looks as he’s making her fall apart. But Dieter can’t blame him, or the concentrated, almost pained look he has on his face that’s just peeking out under her chin. 

It’s crazy how she seems to be fucking him from under all his weight, but she’s doing exactly that. Her toned legs pull him into her, her hips arching to meet his, so frantic and hot. One of her hands is leaving red marks down his back and the other one is petting through his hair, scraping his scalp and pulling so many gorgeous noises from him. 

Dieter couldn’t look away if he tried. His spent cock is twitching, trying it’s damndest to steal what little blood is left in his brain. He wants to help them along, maybe take Scully’s nipple into his mouth, but they’re both crushed under Mulder’s body in a way Dieter’s extremely jealous of. He could touch Mulder, could grab his pert little asscheek and squeeze. But he resigns to the sidelines instead, lets them share this intimate moment with only the intrusion of his eyes and heavy breathing. 

It’s over pretty quickly, anyway. Mulder starts babbling again, a great fucking look on him, there where he’s hidden in the pale crook of her neck. 

“Please, Scully. Come for me— I wanna make you come. I wanna be good, let me make you feel good.”

And she’s grinding her hips up as her back arches off the bed, no doubt catching her swollen clit on that enticing patch of wiry curls above his prick. She’s panting and gasping and then she’s shouting.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, Mulder, oh my god! So good, good boy— I’m gonna come—”

And she does. Beautifully. She tenses up and then she shakes, convulsing under him, around him. She moans and mumbles through it, with her eyes shut tight and her cute little nose all scrunched and her mouth hanging open. 

It’s so beautiful that she outshines Mulder. Dieter barely even catches his groans, the curses under his breath as his hips stutter and grind into her. They both ride it out for a while, it’s like it’s never going to end. They writhe against each other and Mulder’s panting into her mouth as she tries her best to kiss his open lips. Their rhythm takes forever to slow, and even longer to come to a stop. 

It’s better than anything Dieter ever could have imagined. He’s already half hard again, just watching them be together, and that fact only makes him want to leave, disappear, let them play this out without some stranger in their bed. 

But christ he wants to stay and watch just as bad. 

Their eyes flutter open at the same time, and the smiles on their faces are as nauseating as they are precious. Scully looks like the cat that got the cream, and Mulder has the audacity to look sheepish. 

“I uh—” Mulder’s voice cracks, and he clears his throat, “I didn’t pull out.”

Scully giggles. 

“I noticed.”

He huffs, and she smooths his sweaty hair from his forehead.

“I’m on the pill.”

Mulder sighs. 

“That’s— that’s good.”

Idiots, Dieter thinks. The situational irony is off the charts. His huff alerts them both, snaps them out of their little bubble to look over at him. 

He opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes to mind. Scully gives him an amused little smirk and reaches over to pet his hair. 

“You were so good,” she muses. 

He shivers at her words and her fucked-out gaze. 

Mulder shifts on top of her, and they both gasp a little noise when he slips out of her, but they’re both focused on him. 

Mulder looks him up and down and for a moment he isn’t sure if he’s about to kick him out of bed or kiss him within an inch of his life. 

He does neither, it turns out. Instead he holds the side of Dieter’s face in his big, sweaty palm and it’s so soothing that he closes his eyes and leans into it. His thumb strokes Dieter’s cheek while Scully plays with his hair and he could die happy here. 

“Yeah man, thank you. That was good— you were good.”

Dieter’s eyes open wide at that. They’re both looking at him with fondness— appreciation. His chest swells with a heavy feeling just as his eyes begin to sting. 

“Thank you,” he whispers. 

He just barely catches the confused looks on their faces before he hides his own, rolling over into his stomach to let his pitiful tears fall into the blanket below him. Scully ruffles his hair with a sympathetic coo and Mulder pats him on the back of his heated neck before he hears rustling and feels the bed shift. 

“Oh my god.”

Scully’s voice sounds horrified. For a quick moment, his tiny little pea brain thinks of Queequeg— is he alright, did he get out while they were occupied?

“What the hell?”

Mulder’s voice sounds much more amused. 

Confused, Dieter wipes his wet eyes in what he hopes is an inconspicuous move before he looks over his shoulder at them.

Scully and Mulder are both standing at the foot of the bed, looking equal parts mortified and puzzled. And they’re staring at Dieter’s bare ass. 

His bare ass that he now remembers is tattooed. Tattooed with Mulder and Scully’s face on each cheek, respectively. 

“Oh, ha— yeah. Maybe that could have proved it faster?”

His face feels hot. He’s had these asscheek tattoos for so long he sometimes forgets about them. He was young and drunk and high when he got them, but they still hold up. Full color portraits of his favorite FBI agents. 

“What do the words say?” Scully asks. 

Mulder takes one for the team and leans in closer to Dieter’s ass, and he wonders if his blush goes all the way to his buttcheeks. 

“Mine says the truth is out there, and yours says I want to believe.”

Dieter lets out a nervous chuckle and shifts, a little scrutinized, a little embarrassed, a little bit turned on at the way Mulder’s gaze settles over his body.

“When did you get these?”

“1998, right after the movie came out.”

“There’s a movie?”

“Two, actually.”

Scully shakes her head and looks from Mulder to Dieter’s butt, back and forth a few times. 

“I’ll give you this one, Mulder. Only because there’s no lake monster for you to boast about.”

Mulder preens, a satisfied smirk settling on his handsome face. 

“Finally,” he and Dieter say at the exact same time. 

She rolls her eyes. 

“Brag about it in the morning. I’m tired— and my bed’s clean,” she throws her voice over her shoulder as she leaves the room. 

Dieter stays put. His ankles roll around in an attempt to hide his hesitation. He stares at the empty doorway and avoids Mulder’s lanky form. 

“You coming, Doc Brown?”

He’d be stupid not to follow like an eager pup. 

They all nestle into Scully’s bed. She’s in the middle, wrapped up in blankets, and the guys take either side of her. Dieter rests his head on her naked breast as she kisses Mulder goodnight, as Mulder’s fingers intertwine with his own over her smooth stomach. Their pillow talk lulls him to sleep and he goes to bed happy for the first time in years.

He wakes up alone, on his couch, in his own clothes, with his face smashed against his open laptop. 

A dream. It must have all been a crazy, weed and hormone induced dream. Best dream he’s ever had. He sighs, scratches his head and takes in his surroundings. 

Everything’s normal, exactly how he left it. Except, when he moves to his bedroom to mourn the loss of the day he never had, he sees a red and white trucker’s hat on his nightstand. 

Show us your bobbers

[numinousmysteries]

Déjà Vu

@eightnightsofmulder

@today-in-fic

Eight Nights of Mulder Day Seven: Potatoes

[on Ao3]

December 1999

Fucking Scully gives him déjà vu. Every sensation is a new discovery, but at the same time, he is so intimately familiar with her body and her soul that it feels like coming home. The delicate fingers that once swept hair off his forehead to check for a head injury now curl around his cock and it feels different, yet the same. Picking up her small, naked body to lower down onto his bed feels similar to carrying her to safety in Antarctica, but it’s also brand new.

He saw the tattoo on her lower back in a case file and once in a decontamination shower, but now he knows how it tastes. He spent weeks hating himself whenever she flinched and tried to hide the pain from the gunshot wound in her abdomen. Now, he absolves himself by pressing a kiss to the scar every time he works his way down her body.

She is Scully and also not-Scully. She is his stubbornly brilliant partner who can shoot holes in his theories (or his shoulder) from a mile away. She is also his surprisingly mischievous lover who sneaks up on him from behind in the shower, gently kisses the middle of his back, and starts working his dick in her hands until he spins around to lift her up and fuck her right there, soap suds dripping down his chest to where their bodies meet.

She is 38 years of Hanukkah, Christmas, and birthday presents wrapped into one petite package.

It’s the first weekend in December and they’re holed up in his apartment after returning from Southern California where he shot a brain-eating fast-food employee. It’s not a normal life, but it’s theirs and he wouldn’t want it any other way. Her only rule is that they keep it strictly platonic in public, but he’s already looking forward to breaking that one.

He wakes up on Sunday morning with his arms wrapped around her listening to her snore. Yes, Dana Scully snores. That wasn’t a surprise when they started sleeping together. Years of overnight stakeouts and crosscountry flights will teach you your partner’s sleeping sounds. He’s always loved her snoring. Just like her, it’s gentle yet persistent, not a deep and guttural utterance but a soft and steady rhythm of air catching in her throat.

He closes his eyes and tries to let the sound of her breathing soothe him back to sleep, but his dick has other ideas. Lying here naked with Scully’s also-naked, velvety soft body pressed against his is just too much stimulation after too many years of drought. He traces her lips with his fingertips as he buries his face in her auburn hair.

“Mmm, Mulder,” she whispers nearly inaudibly.

“Good morning,” he says, letting his hand roam from her mouth to left breast.

He lazily circles his fingers around her nipple, just barely making contact as it hardens into a tight little nub. By the time he repeats the pattern on the right side, she’s rocking her hips back against him. The pressure of her ass grinding against his erection is a sublime form of torture.

“I need you,” he whispers in her ear, and it isn’t hyperbole. He’s known for years that he couldn’t live without her, but it’s only in the past couple of months that he’s learned how much his body simply craves hers.

“So take me,” she says firmly, turning over to face him. She tilts her chin up as if to dare him, and he can see her full lips, the milky white skin of her throat, her perfect breasts.

It’s almost enough to make him come on the spot. He accepts her challenge, rolling on top of her and pinning her wrists above her head with his hands. She lets out a gasp. That’s one new thing he’s learned: Dana Scully likes it rough.

The first time they’d made love, they’d both been so gentle, so afraid that one false move would wake them up from this impossible dream. He’d only just recovered from his impromptu brain surgery but even if he was at his full strength he wouldn’t have dared touch her with anything less than tender reverence. He knew she was tough but he needed her to feel safe with him.

By their third time, she told him, You don’t have to treat me like glass. I’m not going to break. And while he would sooner put a bullet through his own brain than hurt her in any way, he’s enjoying learning what she likes—a little nibbling on her ear lobe, a firm hand behind her head when she sucks him off, no handcuffs…yet.

He presses her wrists into the bed and kisses her hard on the mouth.

“Don’t move,” he says, taking his hands off her wrists to trace the outline of her torso.

He runs his fingers over her breasts and the narrow indentation of her waistline before firmly gripping her hips. He lowers himself until he’s facing the damp curls between her legs. He bows his head, nose first, into her pubis. He fucking loves how she smells.

She spreads her legs open around him and he uses his thumbs to part her outer lips and pauses to admire her swollen, glistening center.

“Please,” she whimpers.

“Oh, Scully,” he whispers into her clit. Then he gives her one long stroke with the flat of his tongue and she shivers around him.

He draws circles with his tongue, savoring her sharp, salty, Scully taste as she makes hot little moans. He picks up the pace and she starts bucking her hips into his face. He wraps his arms around her and squeezes her ass. She’s moaning harder now, a deep involuntary sound from the base of her throat. She tremors against him.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop,” she begs, as if there’s anything else in the world he’d rather be doing.

He’s humming against her clit now as he licks and sucks on her. He glances up and sees her eyes are shut tight and she’s thrown her head back.

“Oh, fuck, Mulder,” she utters. “Get up here and fuck me.”

Her hips keep thrusting up against him as he presses a wet kiss to her inner thigh, then her navel, then the space between her breasts and rises to meet her. She snakes a hand in between their bodies and guides him inside her. She is so fucking hot and wet all around him. She’s already got one foot over the ledge, so he doesn’t hesitate, just drives into her. Each time the base of his cock grinds against her clit she gasps and quivers, and it doesn’t take long before she gives in to her orgasm. She’s thrashing against him and all he can do is hold on for dear life. He buries his head in between her neck and shoulder and thrusts into her wildly. His heart is hammering out of his chest and he realizes he would happily die in this moment, balls deep in Dana Scully. But he doesn’t die. He comes hard, exploding inside her as he greedily sucks at her neck. It’ll likely leave a mark and he’s glad it’s turtleneck season.

Once he’s fully emptied himself, he rolls off of her, taking one of her small hands in his and bringing it to his racing heart. They lie in silence, catching their breath.

“Why didn’t we do this years ago?” she asks

“Because I’m a goddamn idiot,” he replies, staring at the ceiling. “If I’d known it would be this good I would have bent you over my desk the day I met you.”

He feels her shake her head next to him. “Not then,” she says. “We didn’t even know each other.”

“Well, what about three years ago? If I recall, you were ready to go with Eddie VanBlundht.”

It’s been a long time since either of them has mentioned that name. He knows she’s embarrassed by nearly falling for VanBlundht’s facade.

Scully sighs and turns on her side toward him. “Only because I thought he was you.”

“Is it weird that I was a little jealous of the guy?” he asks. “For having the balls to do what I could only dream about?”

“Mulder, I did think something was off about you—or him, rather. But maybe I just wanted so badly for it to be real that I didn’t question it.”

Her words bloom in his chest. She wanted him enough that she was willing to suspend her disbelief.

“So you would have been into it…if I had made a move earlier?” He asks hopefully.

She shrugs. “It doesn’t matter. We’re here now. We can make up for lost time.” It’s classic Scully. Grounded in reality.

“You don’t think I’m small potatoes?” he asks.

“Oh, Mulder,” she whispers into his neck. “I don’t think you’re small anything.”

“Thank you, Scully,” he grins and kisses the top of her head.

It took them a while to get the timing right, but now that they’ve made it, he wouldn’t change a thing.

[dracopetal]

TV Show game

I saw @sitp-recs​ do this so I thought i would too! Tagging whoever reads this!

Rules: list 8 shows to let your followers get to know you better 📺

1. Torchwood. Not really a shock as I post about this a fair bit 🥲

2. Doctor Who! Particularly the first five seasons of the reboot series. I haven’t actually watched this in years but I was a favourite when I was a kid, and I still love the older seasons now! I’m really looking forward to seeing what Ncuti Gatwa does as the doctor.

3. Sarah Jane Adventures: Still on the whoniverse train but this was a fucking favourite as a kid! A children’s show but still entertaining for adults. The Trickster in particular was legit a terrifying villain and I kind of wish he’d be brought back somehow (but also not because I wouldn’t want him to get overused). Rest in peace Elisabeth Sladen.

4. The X Files: I nicked my dad’s DVDs when I was around fourteen and binge watched the whole show, I love you Dana Scully I love you Fox Mulder I love you weird aliens I love you cults I love you terrible government people I love you fucked up incest episode I love you funny episode where Mulder does a little scream I love you plotpoints I can’t even remember. I’ll kiss you on the mouth dana.

5. Dark. The most well weaved story I’ve ever watched. Everything is connected.

6. Supernatural. I never actually finished spn, I stopped around season 8/9, and I can’t remember half the seasons but it has a special place in my heart (especially with the spooky vibes that the first seasons had) because it was my favourite show during my emo years and I adore how there’s still so much drama surrounding it. Long live that gay angel. 

7. Arrested Development: The original 3 seasons were the funniest thing i’ve ever watched. You can be 100% certain that at any point there’s a scene from this show playing in my head.

8. Yellowjackets: I’ve only seen season one as I don’t have paramount and am unfortunately going to have to wait until it comes out on DVD, but I binged watched the first season in a couple of days and I loved it! It’s such a good slow burn. Also I am a Misty Quigley stan she has never done anything wrong ever.

[astridncs]

last minute photos

MSR ficlet | a part of this twitter “series” | also in AO3 | tagging @today-in-fic​

HC: *based off a photo* Mulder convinces Scully to let him take a photo of her.

--

It was already nearing 5pm and all Scully wanted was to go home, order some take-out, pop a bottle of wine, get into a bubble bath, and read the novel she has been wanting to finish since last month.

Five minutes. That was all that was left. Mulder could almost see her vibrating in her seat ready to jump up like a jack-in-the-box at any moment. He shook his head and smiled as he began to clean up and get his things ready.

He was looking around for a folder when he spotted the box that was delivered to them earlier, he opened it and found the camera that they put on a request the last time they had a meeting with Skinner. Taking a glance at Scully, who was busying herself with whatever she could find at the desk, he smirked as an idea came into mind. She’d kill him, but he knew it’ll be worth it.

As soon as the clock struck five, Scully almost jumped up from her seat, and when she was about to grab her purse, Mulder grabbed her hand stopping her from what she was about to do.

“Mulder, what?” she confusedly asked.

“Scully, before you leave I have to try something.” He told her. He turned his back and went to grab the camera.

‘What the fuck?!’ she silently mouthed as she couldn’t believe her plans would be a little bit delayed.

“What is that?” she asked, pointing at his hands.

“It’s a camera. The one we requested last meeting.” He replied, showing it to her.

“Well, that’s cool. We can check it out tomorrow.” She hurriedly said.

“Nu uh, Scully. Let’s test it out now.” He said with a smile on his face.

Scully rolled her eyes at him and before she could respond, a flash appeared right in front of her. She glowered at him as soon as he lowered the camera, and the fact that he was still smiling made her annoyed.

“Mulder, we could have done this earlier.” She whined.

“I know, but I forgot.” He shrugged, but she knew he was lying. She can see right through him.

“Whatever.” She replied as she attempted to grab her purse again. But the next thing she knew, he was waving the camera right in front of her like a kid. ‘Well, Dana, he is kind of a kid in an adult’s body, what do you expect,’ said the tiny voice in her head.

She wanted to grab the camera from him, but he was too fast. So now, she was staring at him with an annoyed look and her arms crossed. She rolled her eyes once again as he continued to convince her.

"Mulder, stop." She said batting away the camera from her face.

"C'mon, Scully. Just one last photo, then I'll put it away, I promise."

She lets out a sigh, knowing he wouldn't stop till he's satisfied.

"Fine." She replied, sitting back down on her seat. She placed her left arm on top of the desk and let her cheek rest on the palm of her hand, posing at the camera with a subtle smile on her face.

Mulder couldn’t stop himself from smiling as he captured the photo. He just knew that the outcome would be beautiful.

As the photo printed out, he couldn’t help but admire it as the image appeared. She looked ethereal. Her red hair looked even fierier and her blue eyes looked like they were staring into his soul. His breath was take away.

When he handed it to Scully, she surprised him by saying, “Keep it.” Then went to grab her purse and pressed a kiss on his cheek before leaving the room.

He was left standing there with shock on his face, both camera and photo still in his hands. He shook his head and let out a small laugh. It really was worth it.

[scullyverse]

Roses & Restraint: Chapter Six

Lingering Electricity

Stella/Scully || multi-chapter || rating: E (explicit)

Summary:

Electricity and lustful tension sparks between Dana and Stella at the Halloween party.

Notes:

Co-creator of this universe: @notdeannatroi (Lieke)

Once again, thank you so much to Lieke who is the best beta in the world and without her this story wouldn't have come into existence.

I hope you all love this chapter as much as I loved writing it. I will be posting chapters once every month from now as life has become a little more crazy at the moment. I hope you all understand <3 If life commitments ease I might post them sooner, but for now a month is the goal just to be consistent for you all.

Content warning: (smoking, swearing, drinking)

Also available to read on AO3

Dana

University of London, England

October 1990

“God, I hope this isn’t just completely stereotypical,” Dana muttered as she tucked a red curl behind her ear and studied herself in the mirror.

Ever since Stella had given her an invitation to the Halloween party she had been searching for the perfect costume. Something that would be subtle but hopefully enough to impress Stella, if only a little. And when she saw a pair of beautiful small angel wings in a shop window downtown, the lightbulb clicked in her head. They were perfect.

Turning around to adjust the wings clipped to the back of her dress, Dana gave a satisfied smile and a mental pat on the back for putting together a costume she was proud of without going over her budget too much. She had found a knee-length white dress in the local thrift store and a pair of matching white heels made her think of a Greek goddess. Her hair was softly curled and flowed down her shoulders and the skin around her eyes was flecked with brushes of gold glitter to match the gold accents on her shoes.

Soft and sweet. Hopefully Stella likes it.

Wait, what? Dana frowned to herself with the thought in her head. This was a strange recurring thing that had been happening more and more as the days crept closer to the party. She began to wonder if Stella would enjoy her costume as much as she did, which was weird because hoping for people’s approval on her appearance wasn’t something she normally did. But there was something about Stella that stirred feelings in her chest and made her ache for her approval.

Is that fucked up or what?

Oh well.

Stella’s dorm building was a bit of a walk from her own but as she got closer it wasn’t hard to see which dorm had the party. There were specks of costumed people walking in the same direction so Dana blended into the flow, in between a devil and what she thought might be a fairy of some sort.

The closer she got to Stella’s building, the more the nervous energy bubbling in her stomach began to rise. She hadn’t been to a party like this before – she had only snuck out to have a few drinks with Missy and her friends back home twice – so this was going to be a whole new experience.

She had heard the stories on multiple occasions from her older brother Bill. ‘College parties are nothing but drinking, drugs and sex. You better not get into any trouble, Dana. Mum and dad would hit the roof.’ Listening to her brother's advice wasn’t something she ever did as he was always far too subjective about matters, but it still made her nervous.

Of course, if Stella offered her a drink, she wouldn’t refuse. It wasn’t like she had zero prior experience with alcohol and she felt she could hold her own relatively well for her experience. It was just the unknown that worried her. Since she wasn’t allowed to buy any alcohol she hoped Stella would enjoy the little bottle of cherry soda she had brought along instead. Coming to a party without bringing something would be rude, right?

A cold breeze had picked up by the time Dana reached the building. The outside was littered with cheap decorations; fake cobwebs on the windows and plastic bats dangling from the trees.

It made Dana feel homesick.

Every year she and her friends would go trick or treating and seeing the building decorated brought back memories of fall leaves and eating far too much chocolate and ending up feeling sick in her stomach. Okay, so maybe some memories are better than others.

The party was a few floors below Stella’s room and the thumping of the music grew louder and louder as she climbed the stairs. The party seemed to flow throughout the whole floor, the tacky decorations leading the way inside and hanging on peoples doors. The bigger room off to the left, the communal kitchen and dining room, seemed to be the main section of the party so Dana made her way there first.

People were laughing and gathering together in small groups around a large table that had been set up with a punch bowl, snacks and multiple scattered bottles of alcohol. She tried to look around to find Stella somewhere amongst the mass of people but that was difficult when she could barely see over people’s shoulders.

“Dana!”

Turning around, Dana smiled when she saw Theo – a friend from her Biophysics class – making his way over to her with a tall young man happily attached at his hip.

“Hey, Theo!” Dana was pulled into a hug, momentarily stunned by the enthusiasm of it, then relaxed into the embrace with a squeeze. “I didn’t know you would be here tonight.”

“Well, missy, I didn’t think you would be here either. I wasn’t sure this would be your scene. But I’m so glad you came!” Theo’s eyebrows wiggled suggestively. “So, did you come with anyone?”

Dana rolled her eyes with a smirk.

Theo always needed to know the gossip and had hounded her non stop for weeks about her relationship status. He couldn’t seem to accept that “someone so attractive and cute” was single. Dana thought it was sweet that he thought so highly of her.

“You know I’m not seeing anyone. I got invited to come tonight by a friend.” Dana replied with a shrug of her shoulders, her eyes falling to the man with a hand resting on Theo’s chest. “I see you’re here with someone though. Is this the infamous Rhys I hear so much about?”

“Yep! This is the ol’ ball and chain. Rhys, this is Dana Scully.”

“So you’re the little redhead Dore here keeps talking about,” Rhys smiled. “You’re just as cute as he said you were. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dana.”

Dana’s cheeks grew red. “It’s nice to meet you too, Rhys.”

“So who is this friend that invited you? Are they cute? Are they seeing anyone?” Theo blurted out the questions like a hound sniffing out a scent and bounced on the balls of his feet.

“You just don’t give up, huh?” Dana teased. “I’m here with a friend of mine from my Anthro class. Stella Gib-“

“Wait, wait!” Theo cut in with wide eyes that gleamed with something Dana wasn’t quite sure of, but whatever it was it looked very mischievous. “You mean, Stella Gibson? Short blonde hair, blue eyes and a killer ass?”

“Yeah,” Dana drew out with a confused look. “Why? Do you know her?”

“Oh, honey. We know of her.” Theo smirked with a raise of his pierced brow. “You could say we have a similar circle of friends.”

Dana knew there was something he wasn’t telling her. Maybe there were aspects of Stella’s life that Stella didn’t want to tell her and Dana felt like she shouldn’t expose those things without her consent. But then there was a part of her that screamed with curiosity and soon her resolve relented. I have to know, surely Stella wouldn’t mind, right?

“Know of her? What do you mean, know of her?”

“Oh! Don’t get the wrong idea!” Theo waved his hand with a chuckle. “It’s nothing bad. She’s awesome and knows how to keep good company.”

Dana visibly relaxed. “She is pretty awesome.”

Dana wanted to push more but her attention was caught by Stella walking into the room and she sucked in her breath. Damn, she looks incredible. Rhys raised his eyebrow, turned his head to follow Dana’s line of sight and chuckled.

“Well, speak of the devil and she appears,” Rhys nudged Theo. “We should let Dana go.”

Theo’s head snapped around to see Stella weaving herself through the crowd with a grin. Dana blushed when she realised she had been caught staring. “Yes, we should let her go. I think her attention isn’t on us anymore. Go and have fun.”

Theo winked and both he and Rhys left and merged back into the crowd, leaving Dana watching Stella help herself to a cup of punch. She felt her heart skip a beat with how stunning Stella looked, even from behind. How does she do that?

Making her way towards her, Dana’s face broke out into an immediate grin when Stella turned around.

“You look incredible, Stella,” Dana gushed as she took in Stella’s outfit with a warmth climbing up her neck and settling deep in her cheeks.

Stella wore a black corset that pushed her breasts high onto her chest and tightly cinched her waist. A pair of black pants moulded to her legs like a second skin and the outfit was finished with a pair of high black stiletto boots. It didn’t take long for Dana’s eyes to rest once again on Stella’s chest as she marvelled at the large blood red gem nestled between her breasts that held an Elizabethan style collar around her neck. Stunning.

“Well, well, well,” Stella’s smirk revealed a pair of fake fangs on her teeth. Her eyes wandered slowly up and down Dana’s body slowly, like she was taking in each inch. Dana shivered. “What’s a sweet little angel like you doing in a place like this?”

Dana chuckled. “Walking into Dante’s Inferno, by the looks of it.”

“You look beautiful, Dana, angelic actually, If I want to be completely cliché about it.”

The compliment hit Dana hard and her heart thumped happily in her chest, her stomach fluttering with butterflies. W-What was that feeling?

Stella took a sip of her drink and hummed with appreciation. “Can I get you a cup? There doesn’t seem to be that much alcohol in it. It’s quite pleasant actually.”

Hesitating for a moment, Dana looked at the punch and pushed down her nerves to give Stella a nod. She trusted Stella. “Sure. That would be nice, thanks.”

They made their way into the small crowd and sipped their drinks. Dana had to admit that the punch was pretty good. The mixture of tropical fruit and the slight tang of alcohol at the back of her throat wasn’t too overpowering. They found a space on one of the couches and sat down, their knees touching as they turned to face each other.

“I have to ask,” pausing, Dana nodded towards the fangs on Stella’s teeth. “How on earth are those staying stuck to your teeth?”

“You want me to give away all my secrets? Just like that? No mystery?” Stella tapped her knee softly in jest. “Nothing really exciting. It’s a sort of glue that came with them. Tastes fucking awful but they look pretty cool so it’s worth it.”

“I agree, they do look pretty cool.” Dana took a large sip to hide her smirk, the skin on her knee feeling tingly under Stella’s touch.

It only took a few moments before Dana’s hand wandered down to rest on top of Stella’s as they settled into conversation. The party wasn’t as loud and rambunctious as Dana had first envisioned. Stupid Bill, making me worried for nothing. And she soon started to relax and enjoy herself.

They talked until both their cups were long empty and somehow Dana found herself sitting flush against Stella; as best as she could with her wings, Stella’s arm draped over the back of the couch and her fingertips absentmindedly stroked the top of Dana’s arm. The constant touch was warm and comforting and it was hard to stop the soft smile on her lips.

The couch they had chosen to sit on was close to the main speakers, so when the crowd started to move and settled onto the makeshift dance floor, the music became unbearably loud. Stella had to lean forward and speak directly into her ear; her hot breath tickled Dana’s skin and sent a pleasant shiver down her spine.

“Did you want another drink?” Stella asked and Dana replied with a nod.

It was a good excuse to get up and away from the growing thud of the music, even if Dana had to admit that she felt disappointed to leave the comfort of Stella’s embrace. But that soon faded when Stella’s hand rested on her lower back as they walked towards the refreshment table.

“Gibson!”

Stella refilled Dana’s cup before turning around.

Dana watched a young woman with long, curly black hair approach them with a beaming smile and the small of Dana’s back grew cold the instant Stella removed her hand to give the other woman a hug.

“Come and join the game,” The woman nodded in the direction of a small fold up table in the corner where a group of people were laughing and cheering. Dana had to stand on her tippy toes to see a pair of men playing what Dana would assume was a game of beer pong. “I think people need to see someone of talent competing. That and there is this prick who is getting a bit too big for his shoes. He needs someone to take him down a peg or two.”

Dana nudged their shoulders together in a show of encouragement. “Come on, you should go. This is something that I just have to see.”

Grinning, Stella once again put her hand onto the small of Dana’s back, her fingers playing with the soft fabric of her dress. “Game on then.”

Dana nestled into her side as they made their way towards the game, a swagger to Stella’s movements.

——♡——

Dana couldn’t remember how many cups of punch she had consumed but all she knew was that she felt a nice buzz and was happy. She had perched herself on a stool next to the beer pong table with her cup cradled in her hand and cheered Stella on.

It was frightening how good Stella was at this game. Dana felt somewhat sorry for the guy as he struggled down his 6th shot of the match.

“Man, Gibson!” The guy slurred slightly and shook his head. “I’m out. Fuck, you really don’t take any prisoners, do you?”

“No.” Stella chuckled and picked up one of her shots and threw her head back to let the liquid slide down her throat. “Thanks for the game.”

Dana quickly finished off the rest of her drink when Stella came over to her and helped her off the stool. She felt a bit lightheaded now that she was standing and she swayed for a few moments, steadied by the gentle hold Stella had on her arm. So warm.

“Come on. I think you need some fresh air. I wouldn’t want you to get too drunk and get a hangover tomorrow. I promised that I would get you home so you could study, didn’t I?”

Dana smiled at Stella’s kind consideration.

Stella led her out of the crowd and the music pounded in Dana’s head. Has it gotten louder since my last drink?

She wasn’t drunk. She had been drunk before and knew what it felt like, but she was still tipsy enough to appreciate the cold air that hit her as they made it outside. Stella had led them out onto the fire escape and they climbed the few steps before sitting on the small landing. Dana folded her dress around her knees and Stella leaned up against the railing.

“No more alcohol tonight. I promise.” Dana batted her eyes innocently and Stella chuckled in her throat.

“I have this if we’re thirsty,” reaching into the small clutch she had brought with her, Dana pulled out the bottle of soda and opened it for a sip. The sickly sweetness caused her to grimace.

“Fuck, that’s so sweet!” Dana shivered as the sugar hit her.

“I refuse to believe it’s sweeter than that shit you drink back in the states,” Stella replied as their fingers touched briefly on the exchange of the bottle.

Dana let out a shaky breath, the air visible with a puff. Stella’s fingers caused a warmth to fill her body and settle deep in the pit of her stomach. She couldn’t put a finger on why her body did that. Why are there sparks shooting through me like electricity?

Dana rested her hands in her lap and watched Stella drink, her eyes fixated on the rhythmic convulsions of her throat with every swallow. It was mesmerising.

Well, it was until Stella caught her staring.

She lowered the drink from her lips with an arched brow, the look in her eyes was unfamiliar and made her feel somewhat giddy. Though maybe that could also be the alcohol. Stella’s lips curled into a smile.

They sat in silence, Dana’s cheeks hot against the cold air as she focused on her fingers fiddling with a loose thread of her dress.

“Do you mind?”

Dana looked up to see Stella with a cigarette between her fingers and lighter resting in her palm. She wasn’t aware that Stella smoked. The scent of cigarette smoke was occasionally on her clothes but she hadn’t thought anything of it. Looks like we have similar vices.

Smoking wasn’t something Dana did a lot but she liked how it took the edge off when she was stressed. She and Missy had snuck one of their mother’s cigarettes out of the tobacco box stashed in the basement once and had shared it under the oak tree in their backyard. From then on Dana had snuck a few more behind her parents back and used the rush of nicotine to steady herself before exams.

“Only if you share,” Dana replied with a bite to her bottom lip.

Stella covered her momentary shock with a nod. “So, an angel with a hellish vice. I like the sound of that.”

Stella tucked the lighter into her pants, took a deep drag and let the smoke slowly seep out of her parted lips. Dana felt something stir with a sudden pulse between her legs that made her grip her fingers tighter in her dress, hoping Stella wouldn’t notice how her thighs clenched together.

There was something so erotic about watching Stella breathe out the smoke and sliding her tongue over her bottom lip.

Stella leant forward and held out the cigarette between her thumb and forefinger. Dana swallowed down the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat.

What the hell was that? Why am I feeling this now? You need to stop this, Dana. Just take the fucking cigarette and don’t think about it anymore. Don’t think. Don’t think. Don’t think.

Dana’s hand was slightly shaking as she brought the cigarette to her lips.

“So, is this a new thing?” Stella asked and watched Dana tilted her head back and puff out the smoke in rings.

It was a trick Missy had taught her and it had become a skill Dana prided herself on – it never failed to impress. Was that what she wanted to do here? Did she want to impress Stella?

Dana blew the last of the smoke into the air and watched Stella sit against the wall, her eyes dark and a flush brushing across her nose. The way Stella was looking at her caused her thighs to clench together again. Fuck. She handed the cigarette back.

“Not a new thing then,” Stella commented, looking down at the lipstick smudge on the cigarette. “When did you learn that little trick?”

“My sister. We used to sneak a few of my mum’s cigarettes when we had the urge to be rebellious. I did it to take the nerves off before exams. Though Melissa was always more into the, shall we say, non-nicotine based products.” Dana felt herself begin to relax.

“Those can be good too.” Stella nodded as they continued to pass the cigarette between them. “Have you ever tried it?”

Chuckling, Dana nodded. “I have. Once. And I don’t really remember much, just feeling very happy and sort of like I was floating. Missy said that getting me back into our room without our parents finding out we were high was quite a struggle. Apparently, I didn’t make her job very easy.”

“That sounds a lot like one of my friends in high school. She reacted like that when we tried it. I was more the mellow type of stoner. It’s fun, though not my favourite,” Stella rested her head back against the wall with a smile on her face. “I don’t like the aftertaste it leaves in my mouth.”

Dana was once again captivated by how amazing Stella looked in her casualness. How does she always look so incredible when she isn’t even trying? The flush to Stella’s cheeks only emphasised her porcelain skin against her blood-red lipstick and smokey eyes.

A familiar stirring of lust settled in her stomach and the thought made her heart race. She wasn’t sure why she was feeling this way – of course she had felt arousal before, she wasn’t completely void of those feelings, but this was different. She had a healthy sexual relationship with her own body and enjoyed experimenting as well as getting to third base with a few of her high school on and off boyfriends. But she was feeling these things for Stella. A woman. Not some handsome jock at school. And that couldn’t be right. It didn’t feel like it should be right.

She wasn’t gay. She was a good catholic girl and respected those boundaries. I can’t have these feelings.

There was a grip of tightness in her throat and she realised she had been staring off into space, Stella’s soft and curious eyes bringing her back to reality. She didn’t say a word and Dana was glad because she wasn’t sure she would be able to answer her questions.

Taking the last drag of the cigarette, Stella put it out against the wall and flicked the butt off into the night.

“Tell me more about your sister. She sounds like a lot of fun,” Stella slipped her hands between her knees and snuggled back against the wall.

Dana was thankful for the distraction and tried to gather herself back together, ignoring the feelings of arousal, confusion and self-degradation enough to stay in the moment.

“She’s amazing. The complete opposite to me but also the other part of me in so many ways. She has this carefree nature and will to trust so implicitly. I’m jealous of that. I certainly didn’t get that trait.” Dana smiled as she spoke of her sister, remembering the evenings they’d spent in their shared bedroom. “We get up to some mischief together though and we are always there for each other. Which is great when you have two brothers who always try to make your life hell. She’s a few years older than me and has always looked out for me. It’s weird not having her here with me. To be hones-“

Dana was cut off when the sky above them gave a violent rumble and suddenly opened to a downpour of large raindrops that threatened to soak Dana’s dress through in seconds. Squealing, Dana stumbled to her feet as Stella grabbed her hand and pulled her towards her for them to take shelter under the small lip of the building above them. There was barely enough room for both of them to fit but Dana was grateful to get out of the deluge of rain.

Stella pulled her closer when she felt Dana shiver with how the rain had battered her skin and now sat chilling in the cold air.

“Well, fuck! That came out of nowhere.” Stella chuckled and looked up to the sky with slight disbelief.

“Yeah,” Dana shivered again and looked up into Stella’s eyes as Stella ran her hands rapidly up Dana’s bare arms in an attempt to keep her warm.

Stepping closer into Stella’s embrace, Dana sought out the warmth that radiated off her as Stella peeked down the fire escape.

“Are you okay to stay here with me for a bit? I don’t think it would be wise to try and climb down in this rain. I wouldn’t want either of us to slip.”

Stella looked back at her and all Dana could do was nod dumbly.

She was hit with an overwhelming sense of warmth and lightheadedness – like her heart skipped a beat – as she was wrapped in Stella’s arms. So close to her that she could smell cigarette smoke, alcohol and a hint of the floral notes of Stella’s perfume even above the smell of the rain. It was such an intoxicating mixture that it made her feel a bit dizzy.

Tension grew between them as Stella continued to look into her eyes. The electric shooting across the sky was nothing compared to what was hitting Dana when Stella reached out and brushed a wet copper curl behind her ear, the gesture innocent but incredibly intimate.

Maybe it was the mixture of nicotine and alcohol in her system, but her rapid heart rate wasn’t something she was afraid of. Why should I feel scared about something that feels so good?

Stella’s fingers lingered in her hair for a moment then brushed against her neck, and Dana could feel every minute brush of blunt nails against her skin. It caused her to shiver in a wholly different way.

Dana parted her lips to breathe – suddenly the action seemed harder – and she watched Stella’s eyes darken. She could swear she heard Stella’s heart racing along with her own.

She swallowed.

And when Stella leaned in, she froze.

Dana’s fingers gripped tightly into the lace of Stella’s waist, everything moving so quickly but at the same time, in slow motion. Her body seemed to move on its own as she arched up onto her toes, her eyes watching intently as Stella brushed their noses together with a gentle bump.

Her whole body tingled and a hot flood of arousal made her feel sticky when Stella’s breath hit her skin. Stella’s upper lip trembled against her cheek and Dana sucked in a sharp breath when their lips ended up being only mere millimetres away from connecting.

It was Stella’s overwhelming scent, so feminine and natural, that caused Dana’s eyes to widen and her heart to plummet to her feet. What the fuck am I doing? Stop!

But Dana couldn’t find it in herself to speak.

Her body was going against everything she knew about herself, pushing against her with a force of will she hadn’t encountered before. I have to stop this. I have to stop this now. But why is it so fucking hard to stop?

“I-I can’t…” Dana whispered with a crack of her voice.

Her knees nearly crumbled when she felt Stella’s lip bump against her own as she spoke. Fingers gripped tightly into Stella’s corset with desperation, either to pull her closer or push her away but somehow just trapped in between.

Stella let out a shaky breath and their eyes stayed connected when she pulled her lips back and only stopped when Dana leaned forward to rest their foreheads together. She moved closer and rested her hands on the small of Dana’s back, leaning into the connection of their skin.

“I’m sorry,” Dana apologised with pleading eyes and couldn’t stop herself from moving to bump their noses together softly. Just enough to tell Stella that she was truely sorry. Dana wished to God that she had the strength to pull away but right now that seemed impossible.

There was a brutal storm raging inside her head and she felt tears burn her eyes. This was wrong. Everything about this was wrong. But why the fuck does it feel so right?

She felt sick.

She couldn’t feel this way. Her body was betraying her and she didn’t want to put Stella through her bullshit, Stella didn’t deserve that. She had been nothing but an amazing and supporting friend, maybe even - if Dana dared to say so - her best friend. And she just couldn’t ruin that.

Maybe it’s just the combination of the alcohol, the party, the storm and the intensity of the moment that caused this to happen. Maybe? Right?

Stella reached up to cup her cheeks in her hands and Dana rested her jaw into her palms with a clenching in her chest.

And then Stella’s lips were on her cheek.

Nestled right in the corner of her mouth where her dimple sat and it sucked all the wind right out of her lungs.

Her lips were warm, soft and solid against her skin.

Dana rested her hands on Stella’s arms and brushed her thumbs against her skin. Stella pulled away to rest against her forehead again as her hands cradled Dana, so gently, that she started to feel the tears start to flow.

This is so fucked up.

“Don’t apologise. And please, don’t cry.” Stella’s voice was deep and rough like gravel.

Dana hated herself when her clit throbbed intensely from the sound.

She let out a shaky breath, unsteady from her tears, and let her cheek nestle into Stella’s palm with a shiver.

“We need to get you warm and dry.” Stella brushed her thumbs against Dana’s cheek, smiling when her thumb moved against the bright red kiss mark her lipstick left on Dana’s skin. “You’re freezing.”

The rain had now settled into a more consistent but bearable rhythm and Stella deemed it safe enough to climb down the stairs.

“Come on my little angel, let’s get you back to my room. You can borrow some of my clothes. I want you to get warmer before you go home.”

Dana nodded and took Stella’s hand, swallowing tightly when Stella threaded her fingers through her own.

[teiasviago]

Bridges and Buffers

AO3 | @today-in-fic | 1,449 words

The airport is loud but the thoughts in Dana’s head drown it out. She hasn’t seen Charlie in three years, since she attended Melissa’s Halloween party and he was in town. Missy isn’t with them anymore; she can’t act as a buffer between them, a bridge. They have to interact on their own now.

Missy and Charlie were always closer, leaving Dana to spend time with Bill, which was akin to spending time with a small replica of their father. Dwelling on the past isn’t going to fix the present, though. Not when Dana can pinpoint Charlie’s shock of red hair from her vantage point on the second floor of the airport, leaning against the railing. Baggage claim is on the first floor, so she takes the escalator down and meets her brother by the entrance to baggage claim.

Dana gives him a tap on the shoulder with a tremulous smile on her lips as he turns around. “Charlie.”

“Dana.” He hugs her, and she replies in kind.

“It’s good to see you,” she says, as if the past twelve years are something other than what they are.

Charlie nods. As long as the next few days don’t go to shit, everything will be alright.

—

Of course, things do go to shit. Dana makes it through her memorial speech without devolving into sobs and hugs Charlie as he makes his way behind Missy’s grave to give his own. Unfortunately, their mother tries to get him alone to talk when the funeral’s over.

“He’s not interested, Mom,” Dana says, one hand on her mother’s forearm.

“He’s my son, Dana. I have the right to talk to him.”

“He’s not interested. Don’t do this.” Both women are in tears. “Let him be.”

“What’s going on here?” Bill comes up and stands next to them, eyes flicking from Dana’s hand on their mother’s arm to his sister’s eyes.

“Nothing, Billy. Dana and I were just having a chat.”

Margaret gazes at Charlie for a moment before she hangs her head and walks away.

“What was that about?” Bill asks, looking over at their brother with mild suspicion. He’s bent down as if they’re going to share secrets between siblings.

“None of your business, Bill,” Dana says, walking around him towards Charlie, who’s been waiting by her car.

The eldest Scully sibling lets out a mirthless laugh and sidesteps her, putting a hand out so that she has to stop. “I think it is my business. I don’t want to be left out of shit that happens in this family again! I have a right to know!”

Dana shakes her head and looks up at her older brother, anger building up inside. “This isn’t about you, Bill!” she eventually exclaims. “You—you always viewed this as a slight against you when it has nothing to fucking do with you! Charlie is who he is and it shouldn’t matter who he loves because what actually matters is family! And—and that is something that, as much as I’ve denied it and hate to admit it, you and Dad and Mom have never truly understood. And for a long time, I didn’t, either. But Missy understood that. She understood that family comes first and that love should be unconditional.”

Bill’s lips are pursed and his eyes look sad, as if he feels regretful, but he doesn’t say anything as he steps away from Dana. She takes a moment to compose herself before heading over to Charlie, head held high. “I want to go to Missy’s place,” he tells her, and she nods, starting the car.

—

Missy’s apartment is barren of all her personal touches now. Dana and Charlie sit on the floor, backs against the couch, and pass a cigarette between them, as well as a bottle of booze. Neither of them bothered to check what it was.

“Can I tell you something, Day?” he starts, blowing out smoke.

“Sure.” Dana takes a swig from the bottle.

“You fucked up.”

To her credit, she doesn’t even look phased. She can’t say she’s surprised that he’s bringing this up. “I know.”

“Well, you continued fucking up, so if you were intending to isolate yourself from your little brother, you sure as hell succeeded.”

Just because she expected it doesn’t mean she’s immune to the sting of Charlie’s words, though.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, trying not to cry. If she cries, it’ll look like she can’t take valid criticism, and their relationship is on the rocks already.

Dana takes the cigarette back and thinks of how Missy stopped dating part of the way through college. She thinks of how Missy cried to an unprepared Dana when they were seventeen and nineteen, respectively, about how she was broken because she didn’t love her boyfriend—or any of the other guys she’d dated. She thinks of the girl in her algebra class with the kind eyes and kissable lips; the guy she sat next to in her  AP Physics class and the notes they passed; the girl she kissed as a freshman in college; and all the girls she’d wanted to kiss but didn’t out of fear.

“Can I tell you something, Charlie?” Dana asks.

“Go for it.”

She takes a drag and blows it out. “I like women,” she says, voice shaking. “I also like men.” She’s ashamed that she’s crying despite her best efforts not to. “I thought there was something wrong with me... And you know how I practically worshipped Daddy...” Dana’s breath hitches as she stares at the wall. “I was scared, Charlie, and I thought, Well, there’s lots of people like you, but I’ve never heard of a person like me.”

He places his hand over hers and takes the cigarette away, putting it out in the tray. “Danes, there’s lots of people like you. I know that you’re gonna say something about knowing that based on statistics but seriously—I know lots of people like you, just like I know lots of people like me, and lots of people who aren’t like either of us. Be proud of who you are. This is D.C.—I’m sure there’s places that’ll appreciate your sexuality, and people who’ll appreciate it, too.”

Dana doesn’t say anything immediately, choosing to lean over and hug Charlie instead. “Thank you.”

“You should visit me in Seattle, meet my fiancé.” He sighs and takes a sip from the bottle. “Missy was so excited when I told her. We’ve got a little pupper named Benjy. You’ll love him. You’ll like Marcus, too.”

She nods, taking the bottle when he passes it to her. “I will. I’ll bunch together some vacation days to take a week off. You can show me around and I’ll tell Marcus embarrassing stories from when we were kids.”

Charlie lets out a chuckle and leans his head on Dana’s shoulder. She leans her head on his and looks out the window at the night sky. “D’you think Daddy’ll accept us up in heaven?” she asks.

“I wouldn’t know. I have my sights set elsewhere.”

“Missy did, too.”

—

She heads into work on Monday feeling hollow now that Charlie’s flown back to Seattle. “Morning, Scully,” Mulder greets. Dana gives him a feeble smile as he vacates his chair with a gesture for her to sit in it. “Boy, do I have a case for us, Scully. We’re going to Kansas tomorrow.”

At her lack of response after she sits down, he drops the cheery act. “Sorry,” she whispers, letting her head fall into her hands. “I don’t—”

“No, it’s fine—”

“My brothers were in town for Missy’s funeral, and...”

“You don’t have to explain. We can stay in town for a while if you’d like.”

“I don’t know...” To Dana’s great shame, she begins to cry. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, Dana...” Mulder murmurs, brushing his hand through her hair before pulling her into an awkward hug. She sniffles and tries to calm herself down, letting her tears stain her partner’s shirt. “You should take a day off. It’s fine if you need time to process, to—to find yourself again.”

At his words, Dana peels her face away from his shoulder and makes eye contact for a brief moment. Mulder’s gaze is too intense to hold for long, though, so her own skitters away. “I don’t know if I ever knew myself in the first place, Mulder. I’m not the same person I was when I met you.”

He reaches out and tucks her hair behind her ear, tenderly stroking her cheek with his thumb. “And I’m not the man I was when I met you, but that doesn’t mean I lost anything along the way. I’m still a bachelor chasing lights in the sky.”

Dana lets out a watery laugh at that and wipes away her tears. “And I’m still here to make sure you don’t injure yourself along the way,” she tosses back.

“You always are. And, who knows; maybe our sisters are hanging out in the afterlife together. I think they would’ve gotten along nicely.” Mulder shoots her a sad smile and takes her hands in his. “Take some time off. I promise I’ll manage for a few days without you.”

She gives him a small smile and, after a moment of deliberation, leans forward to press a kiss to his forehead. “Thank you, Mulder. I’ll see you in a few days, then.”

They stand up and Mulder steps away so she can walk back to the coat hanger by the door. “Just a few days, Scully,” he repeats, giving her a small wave as she adjusts her coat and leaves the office, bag in hand.

—

Dana sits on her couch, freshly-showered with a glass of wine in one hand and her phone in the other, holding it to her face. Someone answers from the other end and she starts, setting the wine glass down. “Yes, hi! I’m Dana Scully. I’m looking for Nancy Dasilva? No, no, just give her my number, if you could, and tell her that I asked her to call me. Thank you.” The conversation ends, and Dana replaces the phone in its cradle with an exhale, a small smile on her lips.

Missy was right when she told her little sister to loosen up and have fun. It feels liberating to be acting on her feelings after so adamantly repressing them. She just has to hope that they’re reciprocated, now; but Dana can make an educated guess that they are.

[misslilli]

Felix Felicis

MSR. AU. PG-13. | tagging @today-in-fic | read on AO3

Chapter 21 - The Halloween Fair

[ DS ]

On the afternoon of the Halloween fair, I take out the costume that Miss Hannigan picked out for me from the closet. Ever since I’ve got it, I’m beyond excited to wear it. It’s a black low-cut shirt, a white, checkered suit with a blazer that ties at the waist and a flaring skirt. As I put on the blonde wig and the black beret, I turn to the mirror channeling my best inner Faye Dunaway and say to myself in a breathy, southern lilt: “My, my, don’t you just look dandy, Miss Bonnie Parker!”

My friends have been roped into manning the booths of the fair and somehow, I’ve slipped under the town people’s radars, which leaves me able to roam around the fair, albeit alone. Since I’ve known most people in this town ever since I was little, I’m never actually alone at these happenings, people tend to just pull me into their conversation as I walk by. But as luck will have it, as I’m rounding one of the booths of the fair, I find myself face to face with the one person I had secretly hoped to see.

He’s wearing a brown tweed suit with a matching waistcoat and over the white collared shirt he’s tied an emerald green tie. Perched on his head is a white fedora. ‘Shit. He’s Clyde. What the fuck?’

We stop in our tracks and stare at each other for a moment, taking in our respective costumes. He’s the first one to regain his ability to speak.

“Hey Bonnie, the laws are outside, they’re blockin’ the driveway!” His Warren Beatty impression is perfect right down to the Texan drawl. ‘God help me…’

“Gosh, I hope you’ve parked the getaway car around the corner, Clyde!” I’m putting on my best Faye Dunaway impression again as I add a wink to my statement and just continue to walk past him. My heart thumping hard against my chest betrays my cool exterior, but that’s my secret and my secret alone.

----------

[ FM ]

When we finally get to the Halloween fair that Felix has roped me into, dressed up in a costume I didn’t even pick myself. We trail the grounds together and we’re drawn to the candy apple booth. Well actually, Felix draws us to this exact booth, the little sneak, but I can’t resist his pout and pleading eyes, so we end up getting an apple each. Munching away happily, his mouth full, he asks the question I’ve been too scared to ask myself: “Hey dad, do you think Miss Scully is here too with her friends?” I hope she is, if only to see what kind of costume she has picked out for herself, but I can’t tell Felix that. Instead, I just shrug and we continue our stroll across the town square.

When we round another booth, we both stop in our tracks as we see a blonde woman appear before us , dressed in a checkered suit and a beret on her head. ‘Bonnie. She’s the freakin’ Bonnie to your Clyde. Your sidekick. No, your partner in crime. The woman you love. In the movie of course. Insert awkward cough.’.

Felix is oblivious of course, he hasn’t seen the movies and I doubt he even knows what my costume is, let alone Miss Scully’s. I scrape together the last braincells that are left in my head and a stupid movie quote is the only thing I can think of at this moment.

“Hey Bonnie, the laws are outside, they’re blockin’ the driveway!” The retort she gives me combined with her wink render me speechless until she’s well past me and Felix, mingling with the small crowd that welcomes her into their midst just a few feet away from us.

Felix does the thing I wish I could bring myself to do, staring at her retreating form in wonder and he also speaks the words that have sprung to my own mind.

“Wow!”

----------

[ DS ]

Countless conversations later and a little tipsy on the delicious apple cider they always serve at the Halloween fair, I wander along the booths when I hear a voice I haven’t heard in over a year. And could’ve gone forever not hearing again. It’s my ex-whatever Steve, talking to one of his friends.

I’m hidden pretty well in the crowd of people due to my shortness but I can still catch flashes of their conversation. When I hear my name, I stop, straining my ears.

“Dana? Oh God, no. She’s not even close to being a serious contender for a relationship.” I wince at his statement as well as the tone of his voice. “She’s just always there, you know? Like a well trained Golden Retriever, I say the word and she comes running. Such an easy lay!” When they share a laugh I can feel the flush of shame and anger crawl up my neck.

The situation he describes is exactly what I’ve spent countless hours in therapy getting over. But what he says next really drives a stake through my heart. “It’s so pathetic, but if it’s what I have to do to get laid, whatever. She’s even dirtier in bed than any hot teacher fantasy you could ever imagine and what they say about good Catholic girls is very, very accurate, if you know what I mean!”

If he weren’t the demon I have to face every time I try to get over my past, I would’ve revealed myself and give his ass a good kicking for talking about me the way he has. But not knowing how I’ll react to being face-to-face with him, I stay hidden behind a group of mummies and zombies like a fucking coward.

I’m so furious with him and myself for not being able to stand up to him. Where the hell are my friends when I need them? I haven’t seen them all evening and I could really use their company to talk some sense into me. Since they’re nowhere to be found, I head towards the bar set up in the back and slide onto a stool, ordering a shot of Tequila. ‘Fuck it! That low-life is not even worth your time of day!’

On the surface, I’m so angry I want to set this whole damn place on fire, but deep down, the past hurt resurfaces to join the hurt from his words I just heard.

By the time I’ve downed my second shot, I’ve repeated the mantra that I’m a strong woman who’s better off without men in my head about a thousand times. I see someone slide onto the stool next to me out of the corner of my eye as I order another shot of Tequila to keep the two empty glasses in front of me company.

“A third shot of Tequila is just asking for trouble, if you ask me.” I turn my head slowly towards my bar-mate to tell him exactly where to shove his smart-ass remark when I’m faced with my supposed partner in crime, the charming one with the disarmingly innocent smile on his stupid face. I’m staring him down defiantly, my eyes never leaving his while the bartender places my glass in front of me and I grab it, downing it in a swift motion, daring him in my mind to say anything else. He doesn’t comment, good for him, and orders a shot for himself, just raising his glass silently and I clink it with my empty one – I’m tipsy, not insane, chasing one shot with another.

We’re staring straight ahead during our conversation, turning our glasses over and over between our fingers.

“Which guy seems to be the problem and how many rounds of ammo do I need to take him out?,” he asks after minutes of silence. I want to lean into him for just assuming that it’s a man that has me sitting here seething, but unfortunately, he’s right. This one time.

“How many rounds you got?” He scoffs at that.

“Plenty. And I know of exactly eleven ways to get rid of a body without raising suspicion.”

“And here I was thinking the FBI frowned upon their employees giving out top-level secrets on how to hide away evidence of a crime committed.”

“I’m not going to tell you, I wouldn’t want you to be held in contempt of Congress when questioned.”

“How do you know I wouldn’t rat you out when questioned by Congress?”

“Just a hunch… Talk to me, Red. What happened tonight?” He turns towards me and I can feel his gaze dancing over the skin of my face.

“You really want to know? Well, turns out the asshole of an ex of mine decided that today might be the perfect time to make an encore appearance in my life and reminded me again why I should’ve kicked him to the curb a long time ago instead of hoping I could change him.” Looking down at the bar, I trace my finger through the condensation drops, my anger slowly dissipating and my voice growing more and more quiet. “I heard him say some pretty awful things about me tonight.”

I relax into his hand when he places it comfortingly on my back, right between my shoulder blades, and huff out a sigh. “I’m sorry.,” is the only thing he says, but doesn’t add anything else, giving me the choice if I wanted to elaborate or not.

“What I witnessed today was the way he’s always been but I just couldn’t see through the masquerade of the sweet guy, he was so kind and said all the right things and he quite literally wooed the pants off me from the get-go.”

“Love bombing.” ‘Oh yeah, I forgot, you’re a profiler. You probably already got one worked out for me, trust-issues, anxious attachment style, possibly daddy issues, in short, a hot mess. Avoid at all costs.’

“Pretty much, yeah. And I was stupid enough to believe it.” I raise my hand to call over the bartender for another round.

“You’re not stupid. It’s hard to tell the difference between genuine interest and love bombing in the beginning.” ‘Yeah, no shit Sherlock. It’s exactly why I’m sitting here torn between wanting you to make a pass at me and being absolutely terrified that you actually will.’

“How about we pass on the shots and get some water instead before calling it a night?”

“I think that’s probably a good idea, Mr. Mulder!”

“You know, after tonight, what do you say we just drop the Mister?” I nods slowly, pursing my lips.

“So just Fox?” He makes a pained face.

“No, please don’t. Just Mulder is fine.”

“Mh-hm. I guess since we’re dropping the titles, that that makes me Scully? Little odd, but alright!”

We get the check and argue back and forth about who gets to pay, him putting an end to it with a firm “Will you give it a rest, you’ll get to pick up the next check!”.

In my attempt to slide off the barstool gracefully despite three tequila shots, my heel catches onto the rail at the bottom and I stumble over the stool, knocking it over in the process. I have only his quick reflexes to thank that I don’t follow suit, his arms catching me around my waist and pulling me upright again.

He has the audacity to laugh, the bastard, and I’m beyond mortified. “Easy there, partner! Do you need a ride home? Felix is at a pajama party at his friend Suzie’s house, so I’m free to be your pumpkin carriage for tonight.” ‘NO! Yes? No. Get your hands off me. Don’t let go just yet.’

I’m so confused at the tug of war in my fuzzy head but I hate getting a cab alone and I’m in heels on top of being tipsy, I don’t want to walk home alone at night.

As we walk out, his hand finds his way to the small of my back guiding me through the crowds while making sure I don’t stumble again.

On the drive to the beach house, I manage not to fall asleep despite how tired I feel, too afraid of snoring or, God forbid, drooling onto myself. His hands find my back again guiding me up the stairs to the front door and I turn to face him at the top, even more nervous.

“Thanks for the ride, Mulder. And for listening.”

“Anytime, Scully. Good night!”

When he leans in, I start to panic that this is it and I think it shows on my face, because he only kisses my cheek, just like I did after the birthday party before getting back in the car and heading home. I can’t decide if I’m relieved or disappointed.

I can’t ignore the flutter of excitement every time his hands land anywhere on my body but what I will absolutely deny, even to myself, is the way my heart constricts in my chest when he gazes at me that way and the sense of comfort that settles over me when we’re together.

Bodily reactions I can deal with, it’s when it comes to emotions is where it gets scary.

I just don’t think my heart can survive another Steve.

[soft-thrills]

I got a prompt! Mulder and Scully are ar the beggining of their sexual relationship, learning each others kinks and preferences. Mulder starts to notice Scully gets wetter when he's rougher with her, and decides to try some Dom moves. Extra points for a little spanking and fucking her from behind. Love your work!

Here you go, anon! Thanks for the prompt, hope you enjoy it.

Surprises

Mulder/Scully; smut; an unofficial part of my “Scully liking it rough is canon” crusade

*

They are new to this -- to one another. No, that’s not quite right. The truth is they are extraordinarily familiar with one another. They know each other better than most people really ever know anyone. But they have only recently come to know one another in the, er, biblical sense.

Fucking. They’re new to fucking. Well, new to fucking each other. Mulder’s had some experience before and, though he hasn’t asked for a resume, it’s clear Scully is also more than proficient. 

While they’ve spent the last six years in a long-running conversation, they haven’t talked much about what they’re doing. About the fucking. But that’s ok, because Mulder is a man who notices things unsaid -- that is his job, after all. He mentally catalogues every tidbit he gleans from their early encounters. Some are expected, or at least, have long been imagined: the way she clenches her thighs against his ears when he’s between her legs working her clit like a sunflower seed; the way she says his name in bed, a lot, a breathy whisper so close to the way she’s said it before but just a tiny bit different; the way she has a doctor’s unashamed comfort with nudity.

But, you can know someone very well and still be surprised by them. And there were surprises. The way her breath seemed to catch in her throat when he pushed her from sitting upright to flat on her back on the bed. The moan, the kind that seemed to be urging him on without words, when he pulled the hair at the back of her neck. The quickening rise and fall of her chest when he had playfully pinned her to the bed during a joking wrestling match. 

Scully might have told him that the human mind naturally seeks meaningful patterns and configurations in things that don't inherently have any. 

But Mulder knew a pattern when he saw one.

Scully -- Special Agent Dana Scully, M.D., she of the ice-cold, steely-eyed stare, the fuck-you heels, the woman who could take down men twice her size and not muss up her makeup -- liked it rough.

He was pretty sure. Ninety-nine percent. The one percent of lingering doubt was rooted in his concern that he’d simply watched too much porn in his life, which, of course, he most certainly had. But that didn’t mean he was wrong.

Scully always pressed him to really test his hypotheses, to find evidence. The scientific method had never been so fun.

It was a spring Friday. They’d had a day filled with paperwork and bullshit from Skinner, and, to blow off steam, they’d gone out for a couple drinks at happy hour at a Mexican place in Georgetown, not far from Scully’s apartment. They had margaritas -- good ones, not the sickly sweet kind you get at loud chain restaurants. He stared, unabashedly, whenever her tongue swiped over the salt on the rim of her glass.

“Should we get dinner?” he’d asked after margarita number two.

“Mm, let’s stop home first, regroup,” she said, her tongue emerging again around the edge of the glass, her eyes meeting his as she licked at the salt. It reminded him of how she’d look up at him when she was running her tongue over something else.

Yes. They had better go home and regroup.

The bill was paid in record time. It was still light out, the trees were in bloom, the sidewalks were crowded with college kids and tourists. It was lovely but also the longest three-block walk of his life. 

Emboldened by the tequila, eager to shake off the stressful day, seduced by Scully, he was prepared to test his theory.

As soon as Scully had closed the apartment door behind her, Mulder was there, backing her up against it, leaning down to kiss her. He pressed his body against her, one hand on her cheek, the other in her hair. A gentle pull, and there was the moan again.

“Is this what you meant by regroup, Scully?” he asked.

He kissed along her jawline while he waited for a reply.

“Because I think this is what you had in mind,” he teased. Then, bolder: “I think that what you really wanted was to get fucked.”

Her eyes were wide. He hadn’t been shy in bed so far, but he hadn’t been quite this direct, either. It felt like an eternity that he waited for her to respond, and there was some part of him that was afraid she might hit him.

She nodded. He rewarded her with another kiss, hands on her breasts through her shirt. God, how he wanted her naked already.

“Tell me,” he said.

“Yes,” she said, but it would not be enough again.

“Tell me,” he said again, emphasizing the first word.

“I want you to fuck me,” she said. Then, having said it, she seemed to feel bolder, too. “I’ve wanted it from the moment we left the office. Maybe before.” A grin.

“Good,” he said. “Because that’s what I want, too.”

He took her hand insistently, and while it was her home, she let him lead the way to her bedroom. 

Upon getting to her bed, Mulder wished he’d thought of more of a plan. He was starting to feel more certain that Scully did indeed want him to take charge, and suddenly the thought was paradoxically intimidating to him. He forced himself not to overthink it. 

He undressed her, which centered him a bit. It was hard to feel anything but desire as he unbuttoned her shirt, slid down her skirt. She was not wearing hose -- though he was nearly certain she had been wearing them at the office. Must’ve slipped them off and into her pocketbook at the bar. Full of surprises. 

She was in her bra and underwear, a light green matching set he’d never seen before. Mulder was still dressed when he kissed her again, pressing his body -- and, most particularly, his erection -- against her soft skin. He gripped her perfect little ass, gently at first, testing, then, a hard squeeze. She moaned, arching her pelvis against him.

He pulled away to remove his own clothes, stripping naked, watching as her eyes were drawn to his cock. 

He backed her up against the side of her bed, and ran a finger along the strap of her bra. “I like this. Did you wear it for me, Scully?”

“Yes,” she hissed, and leaned up for a kiss. Instead, he flattened the hand that was stroking her bra strap and pushed her down onto the bed.

Mulder often forgot how much bigger than Scully he was -- she’s quite a presence, after all -- but was reminded when he easily moved her lithe body to where he wanted it on the bed. Maybe Scully wasn’t the only one who got off on the idea of him being a little rough.

Before he knew it, he was on top of her, all over her, nudging her legs open with his knee, lifting her breasts out of the dainty cups of her bra. He bit one nipple, pinched another, harder than he’s done before, and she cried out. A good cry.

Time to seek out more conclusive evidence. Mulder reached a hand inside of her underwear. 

“You’re so wet, Scully.”

He knew she had probably noticed this herself, but still, he liked saying it. It seemed she liked hearing it, too, as she arched up against his fingers, wordlessly asking him to keep touching her. He worked his thumb in fast little circles around her clit. 

“God, Mulder, I want you inside me,” she said, squirming underneath him. 

“I think I can give you what you want,” he replied, summoning up the confidence he’d felt falter earlier. 

Instead of sliding off her panties, he moved them to the side. Just felt sexier, dirtier. Then, he slid into her -- one hard, fast, stroke. She threw her head back and cried out. In that moment, he felt indestructible. 

“Careful what you ask for, Scully,” he practically growled into her ear. “Because I’m going to give it to you -- nice and hard.”

She whimpered. He made Scully whimper. It goaded him on -- he grabbed her hair and gave it another pull. He could feel her tighten around him. He’d never felt her this wet.

“You like this?” he asked.

She nodded, hiding her face against his shoulder as he thrust in and out of her, over and over. 

“Do you like it when I’m rough with you, Scully?”

She moaned. He wanted more. He took her hands from off his biceps and pinned her dainty wrists down to the bed. He stilled his hips.

“God, Mulder, don’t stop.”

“Answer me. Do you like it when I’m rough?”

“What do you think?” she shot back, sassy even pinned beneath him.

“I think,” he punctuated with one sharp thrust. “That I want to hear you say it. After all, I wouldn’t want to hurt you if you don’t like it.”

He waited a bit. Another singular thrust. 

“I like it,” she whispered. “I want it -- I want you to be rough.”

“Good girl.”

He pulled out and she looked stricken.

“Turn over for me, Scully. Get on your hands and knees.”

“Yes,” she breathed as she scrambled to get there. When she was ready, she turned to look back at him.

He pressed his cock up against her clit, teasing. She arched back and, before realizing what he was doing, he gave her a little slap on the ass.

She froze. So did he. He’d never done that to her before -- he’d never done a lot of this to her before, but he was more worried about how the slap would be received. 

“Mulder.”

Oh crap oh crap oh crap.

“Mulder, do that again.”

He exhaled. Full of surprises. 

Relieved, he brought his palm down against her ass again, just a touch harder. Then again. 

“Please,” she said, turning to look at him again. “I need you inside me.”

He couldn’t deny her anything in that moment. And, ok, he couldn’t deny himself one more minute, either. He thrust inside her and set a steady rhythm. He hadn’t fucked her like this before. But watching his cock slide in and out of her wet pussy, gripping -- and, occasionally slapping -- her ass, catching her eyes as she stared back at him, her elegant back arched, her dirty little secret tattoo on full display… it was a lot. 

He’d better make it good for her, quick, because he didn’t have much left in him.

Another slap and then his right hand moved to her clit.

“Oh, God, Mulder, yes,” she urged him on. “Harder, I can take it.”

He moans. Hearing Scully -- his Scully -- ask him to fuck her harder? The stuff of dreams. He’s not entirely sure what she wants harder, so he errs on the side of caution, or abandon, however you look at it, and he gives her all of it -- a firm slap, speeds up his fingers, snaps his hips harder. It works. 

She was close, he could feel it.

“Yeah, Scully, that’s right. Take it. Come for me,” he urged her on.

A moment later she did, crying out, tightening around his cock, trembling. He didn’t ease up -- chasing his own relief now, free to take it from her willing, perfect body. Her upper body slumped down but he gripped her hips and surged into her, lasting only a few sublime thrusts before he followed her over the edge.

When he caught his breath, he pulled away and she sank down onto the bed. He flopped down on his stomach beside her, exhausted, but desperate just to look at this beautiful, sexy, surprising woman he was somehow lucky enough to share a bed with.

“Wow,” she said, simply. 

He tucked her hair behind her ear and kissed her cheek. 

“Wow is right,” he said. “I’m never going to be able to hear the phrase ‘let’s regroup’ again without getting hard.”

She laughed. They basked in the afterglow; he basked a little extra in the afterglow of knowing that his hypothesis had been correct, that he had read the enigmatic Doctor Scully like a book. He was, all in all, feeling pretty pleased with himself.

And then.

“So I guess I left you enough clues about wanting you to be a little less gentle?”

A lightbulb. Those clues he’d happened upon had not been so happened upon after all.

He turned to see her grinning at him. 

“I thought I’d pulled off my best bit of profiling yet, Scully. Why not just tell me?”

“Oh, it’s more fun this way. I’m only sorry I was so easy to read.”

He slid across the soft sheets of her bed to get a little closer to her.

“You are full of surprises, Scully, and I’m going to discover every one of them.”

[not-poignant]

Hihii for the question meme, could you do 29, 62, 86 and 98?

Hi hi hi! I certainly can :D (Well, I can try)

29. best way to bond with you? 

*thinks* Slow and patient, and usually online first if someone knows me in real life. I am very quick to make acquaintances with someone, but very slow to make friendships, and sometimes it just takes a lot of time and willingness to understand that I’m very reclusive by nature? I’m thinking of the friendships I’ve made over the past few years. And I’d say... the people who have been willing to show patience and trust that my reclusiveness isn’t a personal attack on them, are the people I’m actually more likely to open up to over time.

But I’d also be the first to say I’m pretty hard to bond with. I hold a lot of people at arm’s length, and I prefer not to bond with most people. Which is probably a weird thing to say, now that I think about it.

Also if a person enjoys eating different foods or going out into nature a lot, that helps a great deal :D

62. seven characters you relate to? 

Kiriyama Rei from March Comes in Like a Lion. There’s a lot of personal reasons for this choice, including my childhood in a chess family, and knowing what that pressure was like and sort of...yeah. Anyway. I haven’t vibed so hard with a character for a long time and I don’t expect to for many more years.

Murderbot from The Murderbot Diaries. This one happened by accident. I loved Murderbot, and then one day Glen just said ‘Pia, you ARE Murderbot’ and I realised that maybe I adored the character so much because I found them so hardcore relatable, lol.

Dazai Osamu from (actual history) Bungou Stray Dogs. A lot of reasons for this, but the cavalier constant suicidality, and the...what people think of as an atypical manifestation of depression (but honestly isn’t), and a brain that won’t fucking quit.

Beverly Lincoln from Episodes. Which makes me laugh because one of our close friends hated her from the first episode. But Glen agrees that this one’s on the money. Driven, pragmatic, political, but also impatient, quick to burn a bridge, and sometimes really annoying to be around.

Nakayama Haruki (Haru) from Given. The bassist. That one’s pretty personal, so I’m not going to talk about that one lol.

Dana Scully from The X-Files. In truth I don’t really relate to her much anymore. But kid me and teenage me related to her a lot!

FitzChivalry Farseer from The Farseer Trilogy. I mostly related to how incredibly done he was with the world, and all his chronic illnesses, and how much the world just never let him fucking rest or have a break. His absolute ‘I seem to exist for everyone else except these moments of weird selfishness which only ever further ruin my life’ is um, a whole mood, actually. :D

86. cookies or cupcakes? 

Honestly neither. Yuck. But I suppose out of the two, I’d go with biscuits (which is what we call cookies here). But it has to be on a day when my mouth is actually producing a decent amount of saliva, which is rare since radiotherapy blasted my head.

Mama Mahoney’s cupcakes at the Malaga Markets are pretty good too, but not so good that I’ve had them in the last three years.

98. favorite historical era? 

I don’t actually really have one. (Again, how do people pick favourites?) But also like, I would say I don’t really understand enough about historical eras to really have a favourite. Although I did like those Victorians for their kinky fucking ways, but I wouldn’t say that makes it a favourite historical era? Maybe just the entirety of ‘every historical era before colonisers came and fucked things up’ or ‘every historical era before the Christian or some other religious missionaries killed hundreds of thousands/millions of people with their diseases and converted and ruined the rest.’

(Er)

Idk, I don’t...connect well with history. Like there’s not really ever been a part of me that has gone ‘I wish I could go back to this time period and spectate/see what’s going on or experience that firsthand.’ If you go back to pre-colonial times, there’s the grief and anger of knowing what was taken forcibly away. If you go to post-colonial times, you’re still living among huge systemic issues (and as a queer person with a genetic cancer, I wouldn’t have fared well in the vast majority of those eras). 

I know this question isn’t meant to be complicated, but I can’t get over the ‘it’s complicated’ hurdle to see the simple upbeat answer.

*

From this meme

[dreamingofscully]

7x15. “En Ami” - X-Files Rewatch

WRITTEN BY WILLIAM B. DAVIS

(Sorry but that taints this episode completely for me. I rant a lot about how incredibly creepy and stupid this ep is - warning ahead!)

This episode is ALLLLLLL about WBD/CSM wanting to possess something (Gillian/Scully). Also he’s stupid (I prefer to think of him as the bumbling thug from Anasazi than into some sort of sympathetic and omnipotent villain that the show keeps wanting us to see him as). 

Mulder is unused to Scully knowing about random stories before he can tell her. That should arouse his suspicion, and is one of the reasons he is so adamant something is wrong later on in the episode.

Scully’s light blue turtleneck. 😍

CSM tempting Scully and telling her not to contact Mulder. That should be her first warning something is wrong. She’s written pretty stupidly this episode (no surprise given the writer) but I explain it by her confusion over not being able to trust herself. She’s slowly transitioning from a position of absolute skepticism to something with more ambiguity. Her instincts scream at her to NOT TRUST CSM but she ignores them because she’s not sure if she can trust herself anymore.

CSM traps her in the building so she can’t change her mind about seeing him. What a fucking creep. The only way he can possess her is if he tricks her, forces her into it. Gross.

That Mulder immediately calls her when he uses the “family emergency” excuse. ❤️ He either knows something is strange or is just concerned about her because he loves her and he’s worried about Maggie. 😍

All of the “revealing” shots this episode. CSM/WBD is just a fucking creep.

“You keep your guard up, a wall around your heart. How else do you explain that fearless devotion to a man obsessed, and, yet, a life alone? You'd die for Mulder but you won't allow yourself to love him.” - CSM

He has no idea that M&S are already involved, Krycek has been easily keeping that from him. What a fucking idiot.

Her sarcasm. How wrong he is. He’s completely off the mark. She HAS been walled up about believing things, that’s her downfall this episode, she’s not sure what to believe or who to trust.

“I’ve been a destroyer all my life.”

He really has a high opinion about himself which I couldn’t care less about.

It’s all about the power for him. How original.

He compares his want for power to Scully’s decision to go into medicine. That they are similar at all. They couldn’t be MORE different. He can’t comprehend that people have different motivations to him. He has ZERO empathy.

Scully doesn’t want to talk to Mulder on the phone, she knows she wouldn’t be able to lie to him.

He’s so worried about her. 😥

How she’s able to stay asleep. I could see her falling asleep because she’s exhausted, but it would be a LIGHT sleep. She’s definitely been given something to make her deeply unconscious. There is NO WAY she wouldn’t wake up when she’s carried from the car to the room and undressed. He puts the gloves on to inject her with something. The implication that his weak ass carries her is fucking hilarious (it was his stooge that did it, and who probably undressed her too).

That she doesn’t leave immediately upon waking is the biggest error of her character this episode. I can see her doing the rest not trusting herself but there is no way she’d stay after this. The writing is fucking terrible.

LGM/Skinner interaction is the best part of the episode. But I still hate it. Fucking WBD/CSM.

The fucking sexy dress. This episode is all about objectifying Scully. More than even fucking Milagro. Who cares what her motivations are, what she would normally do, lets show her bra over and over and put her in a strapless dress and imply that CSM fucking changed her clothes while she slept. 

She’ll be reluctant to wear a similar dress again, because it reminds her of this stupid creepy asshole.

Calling her “Dana”. UGH.

She’s finally had enough, returns immediately. Mulder’s pissed - understandably.

CSM realizes how much he likes her after all, thinks he has a right to her company. Ugh what a creep.

Scully trying to justify her actions and explain her decisions. (They were just stupid because the writer is a hack! WOW IMAGINE THAT WBD AND CSM ARE SO SIMILAR.)

That she trusted his words - so uncharacteristic. Mulder’s disappointment.

CSM throws away the disc which can supposedly save millions because he can’t possess Scully. The world must burn because he’s a petulant child that can’t have his way. What a fucking asshole.

A few points to address:

He doesn’t do anything to her while she’s sleeping, he just wants the sense of power and control it gives him. He wants her to feel that he COULD have done whatever he liked. UGH.

The implication that he’s the father of William is complete horseshit. Scully would have done a paternity test, WOULD HAVE PERFORMED IT HERSELF TO ENSURE SHE COULD TRUST IT, and would have known who the father was as soon as possible after his birth.

I prefer the theory from @dnscully​ that she was healed/returned to normal from the craft in Biogenesis/Sixth Extinction, and thus became pregnant naturally. Like with any pregnancy, it takes time and luck (and the effects are not immediate), so she conceives William around the time of “all things”.

This episode takes away Scully’s agency (forces her into CSM’s building early on, takes away the normal decisions she would have made, takes advantage of her vulnerabilities - her mental state at this time and her desire to cure people, AND DOES THINGS TO HER WITHOUT HER CONSENT WHILE SHE IS UNCONSCIOUS). It should never have happened, and I am really upset about the existence of the things that happened - for Scully and for Gillian. 

After the events of this episode, Mulder is really hurt by Scully's actions. She's his only person in the world and he feels as if she broke his trust. He needs time to forgive, to get over what happened. Scully feels really awful about what she put Mulder through, and in hindsight knows she made a terrible mistake.

It doesn’t matter that Mulder has gone off and done stupid things like this before, that he’s trusted people he shouldn’t. That’s one of the things that Scully has tried so hard to rid him of - his willingness to trust and believe in anything. That the person he looks towards, his TOUCHSTONE, goes against everything that she seems to hold as true would be devastating for him. 

The “you always keep be guessing” gets twisted in this episode. Does he really know her? Can he trust her? Does she really love him? Should they be together?

A headcanon:

I think the events in this episode, combined with his brain surgery in Sixth Extinction, his mother’s death, and his mixed feelings about finding out about what happened to Samantha would trigger a depression. M&S go through a rough patch for a bit.

My fic Momentum takes place directly after this episode and deals with the above theory/headcanon and goes through the next two (Chimera, all things). I’d love it if you gave it a read and let me know what you think! (Or you can wait until after Chimera/all things.)

[atths--twice]

Pinky Promise

Mulder and Scully in the aftermath of the “You should try it sometime” comment. But, Mulder and Scully style... so you know, the roundabout way.

Over the Rainbow played as Scully watched Sheila and Holman walk away, hands clasped and huge smiles on their faces. She could not help but smile as she watched them, obviously quite in love with one another.

She could feel Mulder at her side, his nervous energy nearly palpable. She glanced at him, and she saw his jaw clench as he stared after the couple. She looked at him more intently, trying to catch his eye. He caught her look, and he glanced at her, clearing his throat. He hit his hands together, fists on top of each other.

“Mulder,” she said, trying not to smile. “What did Holman mean?” He fidgeted a bit more, and she bit her cheek to stop her laughter.

“What did he mean about what?” he asked, not looking at her, but at the floor.

She could not stop her smile, so she turned slightly to hide it and give him a second to collect himself. He cleared his throat, and she turned back toward him.

“So, uh .. I don’t think we’ll be flying out tonight. Not only because of the weather, but I’m pretty sure that’s our pilot over there,” Mulder said, pointing toward the makeshift bar, toasting the people around him. Even from where she stood, Scully could see his cheeks were flushed from drinking.

“Huh,” she said, nodding and crossing her arms. She bit her lip as she looked around at the happy revelers, living their normal humdrum lives. She sighed, releasing her lip, feeling a pang of jealousy at the easy carefree lives they must lead.

An apparently popular song among the class began to play and everyone cheered. They all gathered on the dance floor, shoving past her and Mulder. She caught his eye, and he nodded toward the exit, stepping in that direction. One more couple hurried past her, and she followed behind him.

He waited at the gym door and looked back at the crowd once more, a small smile on his face. She caught up and watched him watching them. He caught her eye again and opened the door, letting her go through first.

She hid a smile as she rubbed her hands together before locking her fingers. The woman at the sign in table wished them a good night and Mulder answered in kind. Scully stopped in front of a case of trophies, looking at them as if they were incredibly interesting. Mulder walked up beside her and she could see him watching her in the glass.

“So, I was thinking, as Holman and Sheila left, the advice you gave him must have been pretty good. For it to work so well, I mean. What exactly did you say to him?” she asked innocently, turning to him with wide eyes.

He scoffed and shrugged his shoulders, his hands spread wide. “You know, guy stuff,” he said, tilting his head.

“Guy stuff? Hmmm,” she said, nodding her head and looking back at the trophies.

“Yeah, guy stuff,” he said, putting his hands in his pockets.

“I’m just curious what guy stuff a man who never dates and doesn’t have a significant other could offer up to a man who is basically in the same situation,” she said, turning to him with her arms crossed.

“I mean, I wouldn’t say never,” he said, in a wounded tone.

“Mulder, do you have a secret life I don’t know about? I’ve never heard you ever mention a .. date or someone you’re seeing,” she said, hopefully hiding the hurt she was feeling.

“Well .. it’s been .. I haven’t .. not for a while, but it doesn’t mean I’m not good at it,” he said in a hurt tone, stepping away from her and heading for the outside door.

She raised her eyebrows and followed after him, hurriedly walking through the door and avoiding a rather large puddle. He was a few steps ahead of her, and she had to almost run to catch up to him.

“You’re good at it, Mulder?” she asked, avoiding another puddle. “How would you quantify being good at dating?”

He stopped walking, turned around, and stared at her. “How? Scully, I can be, no, I am very charming,” he said, shaking his head. She finally caught up and stopped, watching his eyes.

“Yes, Mulder,” she said, licking her lips. “I am aware you can be charming, that’s not what I meant. I’ve seen your charm, been on the receiving end of it myself, but is date charm different than your regular run of the mill charm? I’m simply curious.”

He stared at her for what felt like a long time and then he stood up very straight, adjusted his tie, and buttoned his jacket. He smoothed his hair back and then extended his hand to her. She eyeballed it and looked at him with a frown.

“Hello,” he said, a big smile on his face. “I’m sorry if I’m a few minutes late. I had a work thing that I couldn’t get away from until now. It’s Dana, right?” His hand was still extended, waiting for her to take it.

“Oh. Are we doing this?” she asked in a stage whisper, to which he nodded. “My name is Dana, yes, but you can call me Scully,” she said, as she took his hand in hers and shook it, flashing him a dazzling smile.

“Scully? That’s interesting. I’m assuming that’s your last name? I also go by mine, which is Mulder. It’s nice to finally meet you,” he said, squeezing her hand and then letting it go.

“Well, Mulder,” she said, smoothing her hair with her fingers. “I go by my last name for work, what’s your reason? Do you have a horrible first name or something?” she asked with a giggle.

He raised his eyebrows at her as his smile grew. “Well, it’s rather embarrassing,” he said, dropping his head and glancing up at her coyly.

Jesus Christ, she thought, her heart pounding, what were they doing? This was not what they did. Flirting with each other had been an unspoken agreed upon no-go area. Since that day in his hallway, they had not spoken of what happened, but let it slide like most things between them. Keep it hidden, never speak of it, until it or something else caused it to blow up, that was how they operated. Now here they were, having a faux date. And flirting, for fuck’s sake.

Yeah, this was a fantastic idea.

“Go on then, let’s hear it,” she said, smiling at him, the one she did not show him too often, teeth showing and everything.

He stared at her, his eyes on her smile, his own creeping back onto his face. “I’ll only tell you if you promise not to laugh,” he said conspiratorially, looking around and checking for other people, before looking back at her with his eyebrows raised.

She raised hers back and nodded. He leaned in and put his hand on her hip, pulling her to him. Her mouth went dry and her heartbeat ratcheted up when his mouth landed close to her ear.

“It’s Fox,” he whispered, his breath warm, causing her to shiver slightly. He pulled back and his fingers squeezed her hip before he let go. She swallowed hard, and she saw the happiness in his eyes.

Oh, that was how it was going to be. Okay, well two could play that game.

She giggled and looked down, before looking up through her lashes. “Well, the name suits you,” she said with a quick wink, before smoothing her hands down her blazer, over her breasts and down to her stomach. His eyes traveled along with her hands, and she knew she had him.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t able to change into something nicer for our date, Fox, I mean Mulder, but work kept me later than I had anticipated,” she said, her hands remaining at her stomach. “I normally don’t dress so stuffy for a date. I’d prefer to wear something a bit more .. revealing.” He exhaled loudly and she had to bite back a smile.

“You .. it’s .. I like what you’re wearing,” he said, clearing his throat and shifting his weight.

She put a hand on his arm and laughed. “This old outfit? Thank you, you are sweet. How about we go grab a bite to eat? It’s finally nice out. Would you like to walk to the diner close to here?”

He stepped back and gestured for her to go first and she did, again avoiding the larger puddles of water. They walked the few blocks to the diner not saying much, both undoubtedly thinking they were playing with fire. It was dangerous to be sure, but also deliciously so.

Arriving at the small diner, he held the door for her, smiling as she passed. She felt happy and lighter than she had in recent weeks. Being stuck on background checks, and practically chained to a desk, was enough to make her want to pull her hair out. Yes, they were not technically supposed to be investigating X-Files, but God, it felt good. She may gripe about it, but being in the field, discussing theories, and seeing Mulder’s over-exuberance made her happy. This was their bread and butter, and hell had she missed it.

“Welcome!” a waitress said as she spotted them. “Glad to see it finally stopped raining, but boy we sure needed it. Sit anywhere you like, not too many people out tonight. Must all be over at the high school celebrating the reunion. I don’t think I’ve seen y’all before.”

“Oh! We’re actually on a first date,” Mulder said, grinning at her and then putting his arm around Scully’s shoulders. She almost jabbed him in the ribs, but the waitress looked at them so happily, she forced a smile.

“Well, aren’t you two just the cutest? Come on back, I’ll seat you now,” she said, grabbing two menus and leading them to a table. Scully pushed his arm off and gave him a look. He smiled and shrugged, clearly having a fun time.

“Here we are, you two just give a holler when you’re ready,” the waitress said as she walked away.

“Thank you,” Scully said, sliding into her seat and picking up her menu. She was not too hungry, but maybe a milkshake and fries would be good.

“Get anything you want, money's no object,” he said to her, winking at her above his own menu, before disappearing behind it. She said nothing, but rolled her eyes when he was not watching.

Deciding on their food, they called the waitress over. Scully ordered a chocolate milkshake and fries and Mulder ordered a patty melt. He told the waitress, with yet another wink and nod toward Scully, that he felt sure she would share her milkshake, so he would just get a water. She laughed and wrote it all down before walking away.

“See? Charming,” he said, leaning back and putting his arm on the chair next to him, appearing at ease and happy. Scully shook her head and rolled her eyes.

He perked up, cleared his throat, and smiled at her. “So, tell me about yourself, Scully. What do I need to know about you?” he asked with the grin that made her stomach wobble.

“Oh, you know, typical Navy brat. Grew up in many places, have two brothers and one sister, but she has passed. My mother is still living, but my father passed years ago. I’m a medical doctor and an FBI agent,” she said, smiling wide at him.

“Wow. An FBI agent. Working on any interesting cases?” he said, with a twinkle in his eyes.

“Well, the division I work in, it’s kind of different than the others at the FBI. We investigate .. the odd cases. The ones that other people might not find worth their time,” she said with a shrug.

“Odd cases? Wow, that sounds interesting. What kinds of cases do you mean?” he asked, leaning forward eagerly.

“Oh, well, at the moment, I’m actually stuck on desk duty. My partner and I have been .. downgraded to background checks and pulled from our regular cases,” she said, shaking her head.

“Oof .. that sounds bad. Is it boring? It sounds boring, especially when your other work sounded very interesting,” he said, giving her a sympathetic look. “Do you miss the other work?” He stared at her and she knew that this was the real Mulder asking, not charming date Mulder.

“I do miss it,” she said quietly, staring back at him. He took a deep breath and nodded at her as the waitress brought over their food.

They ate, smiling and stealing glances when the other was not looking. Mulder cut one half of his sandwich in half, and put it on her plate of fries, as he grabbed a handful of them and put them on his plate. She smiled at him, picked up the sandwich, and took a bite. He winked at her and then ate his own food.

By the time she had finished her food, she was too full to finish her milkshake, so she slid it over to him. He grabbed the glass with a grin and drank the rest of it. She shook her head, watching him with a smile.

Mulder paid for the bill, making a show of taking out his wallet and putting his card down, while she grinned. They walked back to the high school to pick up their car. Music still reverberated inside, along with cheers and applause. He nudged her and she smiled before they got in the car.

It was a quiet drive back to the motel. Scully looked out the window, the town still wet from all the recent rain. Hoping the motel would have no more catastrophes, she sighed, knowing they still had to share the room. It was not the first time and it would probably not be the last, but this time felt a bit different.

Before she could think about it too much, they pulled up to the motel and parked. Unbuckling their seat belts, they walked to the door of the hotel room. Deciding to continue with the faux date one last time, she stopped at the door and turned to him, her hand on his chest.

“I had a really nice time tonight,” she said looking at him sweetly. “It was fun and the company was enjoyable.” He put his hand over hers and held her gaze. She smiled and looked down before biting her lip and looking up again.

“I don’t normally do this, especially on a first date, but, would you like to come in? Stay the night?” she said, watching his eyes. She saw them darken and dilate, at the same time she felt his heart rate speed up. She grinned at him before dropping her hand, reaching for her room key, and opening the door. “I mean since all of your shit is already in my room ..”

Turning around, she looked at him and smiled. He swallowed and cleared his throat, before exhaling out a big breath. They both seemed to know that once they crossed the threshold, the pretending was over. He stepped toward her and blocked her in the doorway, making her heart race as he loomed over her.

“I don’t normally do this either, but considering the circumstances,” he said in a low voice. “I guess I’ll need to stay the night, eh?” He pushed back slightly and brushed past her, his body connecting with hers briefly.

The fucker, she thought, closing her eyes and taking a breath. She opened her eyes and walked into the room. He was standing in the room taking off his tie and his coat. Turning toward her, he grinned, and she shook her head.

“You want the bathroom first?” she asked, back to being regular old Scully and Mulder, and he shook his head. “Okay, I’m gonna head in then.” She grabbed her pajamas and headed into the bathroom.

She looked at herself in the mirror, shaking her head, before stripping out of her clothes. She took a quick shower, brushed her teeth, and put on her pajamas. She blew her hair dry until it was just slightly damp and then left the bathroom, all of her clothes in a bundle. She put them in her bag as she watched Mulder sitting on the bed, looking at the same papers from the other day.

“Think about it, Scully, the ability to control the weather because of one’s feelings. Unable to control how he felt, it just exploded out. It’s pretty amazing, and also sad,” he said, looking up at her. “But at least it had a happy ending. I have a feeling this little part of Kansas is going to be a little more colorful after today.” He waggled his eyebrows at her, and she groaned. He got off the bed with a chuckle and walked past her into the bathroom.

Her clothes put away, she walked to the bed, pulled the covers down, and lay on her side with a yawn. Tired after the last couple of days, she closed her eyes, hoping to get to sleep soon without too much thought of Mulder sleeping beside her.

The toilet flushed and then the bathroom door opened, but she kept her eyes closed. She heard him drop his things in his own bag, and then the bed dipped under his weight, his body close to hers under the covers. She opened her eyes and sighed, knowing sleep was going to be hard to find tonight.

Mulder was quiet, and she could hear every breath he took. As she was about to turn over and lay on her back, there was a thump against the wall. Then another three in quick succession, then two more.

“Are you kidding me?” she groaned quietly, as the thumps continued in the same pattern. She sighed and closed her eyes with a whine.

“Scully, listen. Do you hear it?” Mulder asked, excitement in his voice.

“Yes, Mulder, I hear it. That’s the problem. Jesus ..” she groaned again.

“No, no. Listen ..” he said, sitting up and hitting his hand against the bed in time to the thumps against the wall. She kept her eyes closed as he did it but opened them when he began to speak again. “We will .. we will .. rock you. I’m not crazy, that’s their pattern, right? There! It is!”

She sat up and looked at him and started to laugh. He was right, it was that pattern. “It’s .. an interesting .. motion. But,” she said with a giggle. Mulder started clapping to the beat and then began to sing, loudly.

Buddy, you're a boy, make a big noise Playin in the street Gonna be a big man someday You got mud on your face, you big disgrace Kickin’ your can all over the place Singin' We will we will rock you We will we will rock you

The thumping continued. Laughing, Scully joined him, clapping out the beat of the song, and singing loudly.

Buddy, you're a young man, hard man Shouting in the street Gonna take on the world someday You got blood on your face You big disgrace Wavin’ your banner all over the place We will we will rock you Sing it We will we will rock you

Mulder threw the covers back and stood up. Scully continued to clap out the beat as they sang louder, and he danced around the room. She laughed as she watched him, and he grinned at her.

Buddy, you're an old man, poor man Pleading with your eyes, gonna make you some peace someday You got mud on your face Big disgrace Somebody better put you back into your place We will we will rock you Sing it We will we will rock you Everybody We will we will rock you We will we will rock you Alright

Mulder mimed playing the guitar at the end of the song, and Scully doubled over with giggles. A loud pounding was heard on the same wall and they both stared at each other, eyes as big as their grins.

“SHUT UP!” yelled a voice.

“WE’RE JUST ADDING TO THE MOOD!” Mulder yelled back, Scully’s giggles now deep belly laughs.

“FUCK YOU, ASSHOLE!” the voice yelled back.

“NO, FUCK YOU!” Scully yelled back, amid her laughter, and Mulder’s eyebrows shot up. She shrugged and he grinned.

“ARE YOU DONE?!” he yelled.

“ARE YOU?” Mulder yelled, crossing his arms, his smile happier than she could ever remember seeing before.

“FUCK YOU!” he yelled once more.

“NO, FUCK YOU!” they both yelled simultaneously, staring at the wall, waiting for a comeback. When none came, he leaned across the bed for a high five. She slapped his hand, and they both laughed again.

He laid back down and she followed, both on their backs as they continued to laugh quietly. She was finally able to stop, and she wiped her eyes. No more sounds were heard from the other side of the wall and she heard Mulder let out a sigh.

“Actually, I hope we didn’t cause too much trouble. For the woman especially,” he said quietly.

Scully felt arousal course through her, hearing that his thoughts were focused on the woman’s pleasure. She always thought he would be a considerate lover and those thoughts were just confirmed.

Stop it, Dana, she thought. These thoughts are dangerous with him so close to you, after this evening, and this case. Wait until you’re home and then think about what that means. How it would feel to be on the receiving end of that focus. Stop it.

She stayed quiet, hearing his breathing began to even out. God, he could fall asleep so fast sometimes, it made her crazy. There she was, acutely aware of how close he was, how wonderful he smelled, how charming he could be, and apparently how attentive he was to his partner.

Partner, or lover? she thought with an internal scream. Which would you prefer, Dana?

She closed her eyes and was about to turn over and away from him, or maybe go sleep in the car, when the backs of his fingers brushed against hers and his pinky locked with her pinky. He said nothing, but held tight to her.

She noticed his breathing seemed to have stopped and when she squeezed back, it began again. She turned her head so he did not see her smile. At the same time, as though they had rehearsed it, she turned to her right and so did he, their joined pinkies settling on her left hip. She sighed and closed her eyes, his fingers resting on hers and his breathing slowing close behind her.

She lay there, happy in that moment. No threat or sadness had forced them to seek each other’s touch. He reached out because he wanted to touch her. He was not pushing for more, not saying anything, and yet they both knew that this was a big step.

Usually, if they had to share a room, they got a cot or there was a sofa. If they did have to share a bed, they did not touch, at least not consciously. She had woken with her body close to his, or his arm around hers, but she would shift as soon as she realized it.

This was different. She heard and then felt him fall asleep, his body twitching. Taking some deep breaths, she squeezed his pinky lightly. With a smile, as she began to fall asleep, she tapped out a beat against her pillow with her other hand.

We will we will rock you

Yeah, she grinned, one day he would.

After all, he did just make her a pinky promise.

[slippinmickeys]

Voyeur

This is just a one-shot writing exercise, but I had fun. 

The person who was assigned to run surveillance on the basement office of the Hoover Building was a man with the unlikely name of Ichabod Weaver.

Ichabod had been previously employed in wetwork but had been demoted after a collosal fuck-up, which had been Percy-Fucknut-Ryan’s fault, but Ichabod was in charge of his own operations and ultimately took responsibility. Running surveillance on the X-Files project was a punishment, pure and simple.

“If you happen to kill the wrong person down there,” his employer had said to him initially, blowing a plume of smoke into Ichabod’s face, “it would take care of several of my problems.”

Anything would have been preferable to the drudgery of listening, day after day, to the insane theories of Fox William Mulder (Subject 240629) and his skeptical lady partner (one Dana Katherine Scully, Subject 241204). They were intelligent (pretentious), talented (annoying), and honorable to a fault; the kind of people who would point out to a waitress if she hadn’t charged them enough for dinner. It was enough to make a guy puke. Ichabod would have happily put his old skills to work on himself to escape the tedium of his assignment, but he had two years left on his contract and enough savings in the bank to live out the rest of his days on an island somewhere near the equator. If he didn’t die from boredom down here, that meant he also wouldn’t die of it while lounging in a hammock slung between two palm trees.

Ichabod mostly ran audio surveillance, but there was video too, if anything got interesting. He mostly used that when Mulder or Scully was out of the office leaving the other alone. Mulder would inevitably watch porn, which Ichabod could see if he adjusted the camera just-so, and Scully would take the opportunity when Mulder stepped out, to reach into her bra for one reason or another, or adjust her pantyhose or stretch her long, elegant neck. It was the best he would ever get from an uptight, conservative broad like Scully, and Ichabod was a guy who would always take what he could get.

When he first started the gig, he thought it was fairly obvious that the two agents were fucking. With Mulder’s constant proximity to Scully’s tight little ass and round plump mouth, Ichabod could hardly blame the guy--but they never did anything untoward in the office aside from light flirting and the occassional glancing sexual innuendo, and after nine months Ichabod decided that in actuality, they weren’t fucking each other, but that they obviously wanted to. God, what idiots. If Ichabod had learned anything in life, it was that life itself was too damn short.

They had been out of the office for a week and a half out in the field -- some other poor shmuck’s problem -- and Ichabod hadn’t even bothered coming in the last three days. They were back in their office today and had beaten him to work, which he discovered when he set down his coffee and flipped on the speakers to find the two agents and their boss, the stick-up-his-ass AD, in the middle of a conversation.

“--surprised you were able to get a confession, Agent Scully, the local PD had interrogated the suspect on four separate occasions and never got enough to justify a warrant.”

“Agent Mulder should get the credit for this one, sir,” Scully said, standing -- judging from the sound of her voice -- on the other side of the room, “it was his idea to use the interrogation technique that garnered the confession.”

“Well,” Mulder said, his voice casually modest, “we were all ears and he was all mouth.”

“Nevertheless, it was a job well done,” Skinner said. “Can I expect your report on my desk by Friday?”

He must have gotten a nonverbal confirmation, because the next thing Ichabod heard was the office door closing and the sound of the assistant director’s footsteps fading away to nothing.

“You didn’t have to do that, Scully,” Mulder said, after a brief minute of quiet.

“Do what?” she asked on a shuffle of papers.

“Give me all the credit,” Mulder said, “you know I wouldn’t have gotten a confession from the guy if he hadn’t been so hot for you that he didn’t even notice when he confessed to the crime.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mulder,” Scully said, in a tone that it made it obvious to both Mulder and Ichabod that she most assuredly did.

“The guy had a pretty severe priapic condition when you stood him up and slapped on the cuffs, or don’t you remember the thing practically brushing your arm when I was Mirandizing him?” Mulder said, his tone playful.

After a moment, Scully rose to the bait, answering in just as playful a way -- something that grabbed Ichabod’s attention, because it was something she’d never, ever done before.

“The genitalia of the male of our species is a complicated system of hydraulics, Mulder. His priapic condition as you call it, could have been caused by any number of stimuli, be it sexual or otherwise.”

Ichabod was certain that if he turned on the video right now, he and Mulder would be wearing the same impressed/amused reaction.

“Otherwise?” Mulder’s voice was low.

“You pumped him full of cola, Mulder,” she said, and Ichabod could hear the smile in her voice, “maybe he just really had to pee.”

“As the owner of ‘a complicated system of hydraulics,’ and a person who spends hours a week in confined spaces with you, I can assure you, Agent Scully... he didn’t have to pee.”

Ichabod leaned back in his chair and began clicking a ballpoint pen. The tension in that office was so high it was leaking into his cramped surveillance room through the wires that fed its sound.

“And trust me,” Mulder’s voice came so quietly that Ichabod had to turn up the volume on his speaker, “when the hydraulics kick in, it doesn’t feel all that complicated.”

There was a muffled sound of footsteps, a mumble he couldn’t make out and then the quiet wisps of a sound it took Ichabod a minute to identify as the rustle of clothing, and he went flying in his office chair across the room and to the video monitor that he hadn’t turned on in weeks.

It took several long seconds for the screen to flash to life and another few for Ichabod to jostle the joystick that controlled the camera until he brought the two agents into the center of his screen, as close together as he had ever seen them, inches apart but not touching. Mulder was leaning down into Scully’s space and she was looking up at him intensely, her hands at her side, fingers clenching open and closed as if she were trying to make a decision.

Mulder brought his hands up slowly to her face, holding it gently, his thumbs rubbing along the seam of her plump, ruby lower lip.

“Awww, he’s gonna do it,” Ichabod said to the empty room, then, as if the people on the screen could hear him, said, “Do it, Mulder. Do it.”

As if in answer, Mulder leaned slowly down and brushed his lips lightly across Scully’s, and both Ichabod and Mulder seemed prepared for the inevitable slap. Instead, Scully stepped in even closer, the tips of her shoes stepping on the tops of Mulder’s own and pulled him down into a kiss that started sweetly, but turned passionate in matter of moments.

One of Mulder’s hands stayed on her face, but the other arm snaked around her waist, his hand grabbing hot handfuls of her tight ass, and Ichabod had to bite a knuckle in jealousy.

He could hear a tight female moan and then the sound of desperate pants and huffed breaths, followed by a cacophonous waterfalling thud as a stack of files fell off the desk as Mulder pushed Scully into it -- the sounds all a half second out of sync from the video screen before him.

Ichabod saw Mulder pump his hips against Scully once and fumble his hands at her shirt, pulling it out of the waist of her skirt. Scully took the moment to run her hands up over his shoulders, cleaving the suit coat from his back so that it pooled to the floor at their feet. Mulder’s hand was up and under her shirt in a flash, and Scully threw her head back from where she sat on the desk, the column of her throat almost white in the dim light of the basement.

Mulder’s mouth was at her neck an instant later, and Ichabod was impressed with his dexterity, his mouth working at his partner’s throat even as one hand was filled to bursting with her ass and the other was working her breasts, and all Ichabod could hear were her moans and a roaring of blood in his own ears.

When Scully reached for Mulder’s fly, he almost reached for his own, but then stopped as Scully did, who put a hand up to Mulder’s chest, where she wrapped his tie around her hand once and leaned her forehead against his heaving chest.

“Not…” she struggled to catch her breath, “Not here.”

“Yes here,” Ichabod said to the screen, willing the agents to keep going, his thumb continuing to click the pen, in and out, in and out, faster and faster.

“Scuh-” Mulder started to say, one hand reaching down to lift her chin until she was looking him in the eye.

“Not like this,” she said to him, her eyes searching his, “I want it to be right, I want you to-”

“To what?” Mulder whispered, then touched the tip of her nose with the gentlest of kisses.

Her head fell downward again, her hair falling like curtains to block what Ichabod could see of her face.

Mulder then whispered something Ichabod couldn’t make out. She looked back up at Mulder, her face as yearning and bright as any classic Hollywood starlet. She pushed herself off the desk and pulled herself up to her full height, then pulled on Mulder’s tie, bringing his face slowly down to her own. She gave him a firm, full kiss, her tongue invading his mouth once, quickly.

“I love you too,” she said earnestly, and Ichabod felt something in his chest loosen and fly free.

“Come to me,” she said quietly, and Mulder’s eyes never once left hers, his hands holding her tightly to him, “tonight.”

Mulder nodded once firmly, and then reluctantly released her. He took one step back.

“Tonight,” he said, his voice raw and needy.

Scully reached up with a hand and ran it gently through his hair once, then let her hand fall. She stepped away from her partner.

Ichabod stared at the screen before him as both agents stepped out of frame, the basement office quiet but for the dull background hum of desktop towers, the quiet buzz of monitors and various investigative equipment. He released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

After a few moments of introspection, Ichabod looked at the video recording device in front of him for a full minute and then on an impulse, rewound it quickly and pressed the “erase” button. Then he pushed back from the desk, loosened his tie and made for the door. Ichabod needed some air.

[danadeservesadrink]

Do You Believe in Fate Chapter 5

You Have Got to Get Out More

In which our favorite couple goes out on dates. This is basically an apology for all the angst in last chapter. Enjoy!

Read on AO3 here 

Tagging @today-in-fic (also if you would like to be tagged in updates shoot me a message) 

“Dana Scully speaking”

“You have got to get out more.”

“I get out plenty, thank you very much.”

“Yea but ever since everything with that guy you haven’t done anything! You’ve been so mopey all week and now I bet you’re sitting in your hotel room being mopey too.”

‘You don’t know that”

“I will give you a hundred dollars if you’re anywhere but your hotel room right now, alone”

“I just haven’t felt the need to go anywhere”

“Dana you have to get over yourself!”

“Well even if I did want to go out who am I going to go out with?”

“What do you say I come up tomorrow. You know I love that old bar that was across from the hospital, you used to take me there all the time. We’ll go out, have a few drinks, flirt with some boys…”

“Missy I don’t know…”

“Dana for once in you life just have fun! I guarantee you one hour with me and you’ll have forgotten all about FBI man”

“Ok fine. But we are not staying out late because I have to work the next day and if you start taking shots I’m leaving you at the bar.”

“Not if you’re taking shots with me!”

“Missy-”

“Love ya Danes gotta go bye!”

“Bye Missy”

It was a tiny little bar called Rosco’s, packed with DC's finest, including G-men, doctors, and college students. The tables were cramped and wobbly and the floor was a little sticky in some spots but Dana had been going since she first started working at the hospital. The doctors had a routine of going out on Friday nights and she had found herself more than once dancing to the old jukebox to Billie Joel and Queen in her practical doctor heels after a long shift. If she had been thinking clearly, the thought that maybe the longstanding tradition would still be continuing this Friday might have popped into her head. But on Friday night she found herself sitting in her favorite bar nursing a beer when the music seemed to cut out and in walked what seemed like every single one of her old colleagues, ready to let off some steam after a long day of saving lives.

It didn’t take long for them to notice the two red headed girls sitting at the bar, especially since Missy stopped flirting with the bartender to start asking Scully which of her friends was single quite loudly. She recognized most of them when she looked into the crowd but there were certainly a few new faces. Resident students she guessed.

She quickly waded through all the “Dana oh my god how are you!” and “Oh wow it’s been so long!”. She was genuinely happy to see some faces. She recognized a woman named Kelsey who joined the hospital at around the same time she did. They had always been close, so when she was greeted with a hug she wasn’t surprised. Missy was the social butterfly, flitting through the doctors one by one before winding up back next to her like a meet-and-greet merry-go-round.

“We should buy them drinks!” Missy giggled at her, clearly enamored with one of the new young doctors that Scully didn’t recognize. “You know Mark’s here right?”

She hadn’t seen him come in, but it didn’t surprise her. She glanced in the corner of the pack to see the familiar salt and pepper hair of Dr. Mark Bordone, cardiac specialist. Before she left DC, the two of them had gone on a date or two. He took her to a bar like this one but much less fun and the interest was clearly one sided. But he bought her drinks and made nice conversation so she had been more than willing to entertain it. She had to admit he still looked good.

He looked over at her and smiled this big smile and she could see his eyes twinkling. She did remember that he was good at parties, the charming type. He smiled across the floor and eased his way over to her, pushing past grad students and a pair of police officers, until he sat down on the stool Missy had abandoned.

“Dana Scully it has sure been a while” He had a smile that perfectly fit his face, with shiny white teeth that seemed to add to the sparkle in his eyes.

“It sure has Mark. What have you been up to?” The slightly awkward conversation was better than sitting alone at the bar, since she had no one else to talk to now that Missy was over rubbing shoulders with the other students.

“Oh nothing much. I’ve been promoted to head of surgery. Kirk finally retired.”

“Wow. Well congratulations”. He smiled and she turned to drain her beer. She noticed his eyes flit down to her chest as she leaned back.

Let's take a moment to assess, shall we.

No wedding ring on the finger, so he hadn’t tied down one of the nurses. He was handsome, he fit her usual type, he was the biggest flirt she knew, and he wasn’t a stranger. And she desperately needed something, anything, to distract herself from the nagging FBI agent who wouldn’t leave the back of her mind.

Fuck it.

“Why don’t you use some of that ‘Head of Surgery’ money to buy me another drink. I'm sure you’ve got plenty to spare.”

She caught a thumbs up from Missy from across the bar as the bartender passed another two beers over the counter.

It was Missy who spotted him first. She had made her way through the crowded bar to Scully, who was still sitting at the bar with Mark. Scully had made it past small talk, and four beers later was now talking about the politics of the cardiac ward with her suitor. She was about to suggest maybe they go to a more quiet table to talk more when Missy popped out of the dance floor and shouted over the music “There’s a group of FBI people at some of the back tables. Maybe your alien guy is here?”

The night had truly been going so well.

“Alien guy?” Mark asked with a chuckle, and Scully laughed with him. She hadn’t known Mulder for long, but he didn’t seem like the type to be out on a Friday night in a crowded bar.

“I doubt it” she giggled, but she shifted closer to Mark as if to show him if he was here, she had moved on. Mark had placed a hand on her thigh and maybe she would have shrugged it off 2 beers ago but with Mulder fresh in the back of her mind she let it rest.

“I don’t know but one of them is super cute so I’ll be at their table for a while” Missy giggled then slipped back into the dance floor like she was being engulfed by the blob.

“I should probably go check on her” Scully said with a grin, and Mark shot one back.

“Should I be worried about this alien guy? He’s not coming from Mars to steal my woman?” He laughed again and she forced a smile.

“No, no, he’s just a friend. And besides, I don’t think this is his scene”. She rose from the bar stool and his hand fell off her thigh easily.  

“I’ll be back in a few. I should probably go pull my sister off whatever person she’s decided to drape herself over.” He was easy to come back to.

He gave her a chuckle and a wave and she allowed herself to be swept away into the crowd, moving with the flow of dancers and drunkards like tides in the ocean to the back corner where Missy had previously pointed. She spotted her sister first, sitting in the lap of some blonde man wearing his FBI bomber jacket. She was just about to stroll over and pull her away when she spotted a gaggle of girls in the next booth on the right and there he was.

Her alien guy.

He looked uncomfortable, with a blonde woman clinging to his side, laughing at something he said with this forced bounce that she probably practiced. But he smiled back at her and tossed his arm around her and Scully felt a fury deep in the pit of her stomach.

She considered just leaving Melissa to run back across the bar, but he took his eyes off Blondie for a second and to glance at the dance floor and she saw the look of recognition in his eyes as he spotted her.  

In an instant she power walked towards Melissa and yanked her off of G-man number 1, ignoring her “What the fuck!” as she dragged her sister back into the dancing mob and away from the gaze of Fox Mulder.

“What the fuck was that for” Missy huffed, pulling herself away from Scully’s grip, finding a small pocket in the swarm of bodies. Scully, however, was busy peering through strangers' shoulders, trying to see if he was following them. She thought she saw him get up but she couldn’t be sure. Missy noticed.

“Oh my god he IS here! Where?” She then proceeded to try to stand on her tip-toes before Scully pulled her back down. “Is he the tall one? He is so cute Danes no wonder you’re so hung up on him.”

“Yes. But he is with a girl and I don’t want to talk to him, so I really would prefer if we didn’t make a big deal out of it”

“Oh my god you totally have to win him back. You have to talk to him. Make him jealous. You should dance with Mark!”

“Who’s Mark?” And there he was, towering over the two of them with a goofy smile that made her feel things she didn’t care to admit. Melissa happily slipped back into the dancers, probably to go find her FBI guy again, or more likely watch their conversation through elbows and shoulders.  

And so they stood in the middle of a crowded dance floor, waiting for the other to make the first move.

“Mark’s my date.” He doesn’t need to know that the date was unintentional. She glanced up at him, coldly, trying to avoid lingering on the way that his shirt was unbuttoned to show a glimpse of his collarbone.

“Ah. Where is he now?”

“At the bar. Who’s Blondie?”

“My boss’s secretary. She’s been trying to get me to go out with her and her friends since I started.”

“So you’re here on a date.” Scully crossed her arms, waiting for him to get the hint that clearly she didn’t want to be talking for much longer.

“I wouldn’t call it that. Do you want to dance?” He stepped closer to her and the bubble they had created pressed in on them, making her watch the ground so she didn’t step on his toes.

“I should go back to the bar…”

“Dance with me.” His presence was mesmerizing and his scent intoxicating. The music couldn’t have been louder, and yet she felt like she could hear their hearts beating. Maybe, she could just pretend that everything hadn’t happened. She could pretend that he was just a handsome stranger she met at a bar and allow herself to be swept up in his arms.

Scully was always good at pretending.

She didn’t say yes so much as nod, and then she found his arms wrapping around her and their bubble disappeared completely and she was surrounded by him. His arms, his shirt, his smell, everything about him engulfed her completely and it made sense because as much as she tried to forget him she felt this tether in the back of her head, like a magnet pulling north, and now she had found it and she locked right into place pressed against his chest. They swayed to the music, lost in the sea of bodies, allowing themselves to be pulled with the tides of hips and hands. A song went by, maybe two, and she felt his hand dip lower to rest on the notch above her jeans.

“You’re wearing navy again” he whispered into her ear. She opened her eyes suddenly to the sound of his voice. She hadn’t even realized they had closed.

“I like navy” she whispered back, and she could hear him chuckle though she couldn’t see his face, his breath hot on her neck.

“It makes your eyes look like the sea”. As if to prove his point he pulled back from her and tilted her chin upwards with a finger. She looked up and gazed into his eyes as he stared into hers and she could feel the electricity flowing between them. She felt herself being drawn forward to him. Her eyes fluttered shut, and he was so close, and it was so perfect.

“You have a case file.”

And there it was.

“Excuse me?” She drew back sharp as a whip and she knew, she knew , it was all too good to be true.

“I looked you up, you have a case file. They did start an investigation, they just never finished it” She pulled back, pushing back into one of the dancing masses, and she felt his hands drop from her sides. Nothing is ever perfect.

“Mulder I-”

“Scully I know you said not to meddle but I can help you…”

“And I told you I don’t want your help! I can’t believe you , I can’t…” She backed away from him further, hearing cries of “watch it” coming amidst the dancers.

“Scully please.”

“No Mulder. You weren’t even supposed to be here, I didn’t want to see you” He steps back in shock and they’re attracting attention now but she doesn’t care. She’s lashing out, out of what she doesn’t know. “I don’t need your help, and I don’t need you, so go back to your blonde bitch, she can clearly give you whatever you want from me”

She felt hands on her shoulders and heard a man say “Dana, is something wrong?” but all she could focus on was his face. The way he stared at her like she broke his heart.

He didn’t even know her but as she slipped away into the crowd he watched her like she was the world’s most precious jewel sinking beneath the waves.

She heard Mark talking to him, but the bodies closed the gap between them and Melissa took her by the wrist and led her to the front, out the door, and the cool air of the night hit her face.

“Do you want to go home?” Missy reached up and wiped a tear from Scully’s cheek. She hadn’t even realized she was crying. She nodded and Melissa turned to call the cab. She shivered, listening to the muffled music in the bar, processing everything that just happened.

The door opened and Mulder walked out. Instantly, her sister was back in front of her, like a 5’2 battle shield.

“I’m going to have to ask you to get the fuck away from us.” For what she lacked in stature, Missy made up for in sheer grit. She once picked a bar fight with a Navy Seal. She could take a 6’1 pouty FBI agent.

“I just want a second”

“You don’t deserve a second.”

“Please. I promise, just one second and then you’ll never hear from me again.” He glanced over Missy’s shoulder and caught Scully’s eye. Missy looked back and Scully gave a resigned nod.

“Fine, but I’m timing you.”

Mulder stepped past Melissa in the way you would step past an armed bomb and proceeded to invade Scully’s space again.

“What do you want?”

“I’m sorry”

“For?” She stood with her hands on her hips, but he looked so pitiful. She noticed his eye was swollen.

“I’m sorry for getting into something that’s none of my business”

“Why?” He looked confused so she elaborated. “Why do you want to help me so much?” He looked at her again and the way the streetlights bounced off him made him look like he was glowing. She felt another tear slip down her cheek. The bar music faded away and all that was left was the humming of the lights.

“I want to help you because I feel connected to you. Ever since we first met I’ve felt this pull like a…” He searched for the words.

“Like a magnet.” He snapped his fingers and it startled her.

“Exactly. And I know, I know that everything that happened to you is really none of my business” She raised an eyebrow at him but he didn’t notice, instead stepping closer so only she could hear.

“But I like you so much. More than I think I’ve ever liked anyone. I think you’re smart and gorgeous and for God’s sake Scully you save little kids lives for a living and I don’t deserve you at all, but I want to make your business my business.” She was smiling now, and he brushed a hair back from her face, letting his hand linger down her cheek.

“All of my business?” It was a test.

“All of your business. Not even just the parts you think I’m interested in. I want the mundane, the ordinary, the outright boring. I want everything that has to do with you”

He passed.

“Ok.” She looked up at him and he seemed shocked, like he truly didn’t expect the conversation to go this way.

“Ok?”

“Yes, ok-” And she couldn’t finish her sentence because his lips were on hers and everything was right in the world. His hand found her waist and she gasped but his tongue stole it away. She returned the favor and wrapped her hands around his neck, tilting up on her toes to reach him. He kissed with a fury and she met him with equal passion, their lips moving in synchronicity. She let a moan slip out when his hand dipped lower to cup her ass through her jeans. She would have been embarrassed if he didn’t smile into her mouth when she did and grip tighter. She brought her hand to cup his face but he winced and pulled away.

“What happened to your eye?” She hadn’t noticed the color in the streetlights but up close she could see the reddish shade it was turning.

“Well your date didn’t seem to like how I made you run out crying and all, so he decided that I needed to be taught a lesson”.

“I’m so sorry…”

“Nah it’s alright. After he realized he just assaulted a federal agent he decided I wasn’t worth it” She went to run her fingers over his eye but he grabbed her wrist and instead kissed her fingers. He was about to lean in again before he heard an “ Ahem ” over his shoulder, and he turned to see Missy with her arms crossed next to a waiting cab.

“I don’t mean to interrupt whatever all this is…” she waved her hand to gesture to the two of them, “But our cab is here.”

He turned back to her and pulled her close, placing a firm, lingering kiss on her lips. She could hear him sigh when they pulled apart.

“I’ll see you soon?”

“Yes you will.”

“Goodnight Scully.”

“Goodnight Mulder.”

Maybe the world could be perfect. At least for a little while.

[enigmaticxbee]

✖️✖️✖️ 4x08 Tunguska

The one with... the diplomatic pouch and Mulder’s trip to Russia. Part 1 of 2.

Best: The cliffhanger image of Mulder trapped under barbed wire as the black oil squirms it’s way into his eyes. Creepy.

Worst: Marita Covarrubias. I’m not into it. I resent the sexy times music played over Mulder’s late night visit to her apartment. They seem to deliberately show us that only 3 minutes pass before he gets into car with Krycek, so I guess no sexy times occurred? So what was the point of teasing it? His informant is a woman so she must be helping him in the hope of sexy times? Blech.

❌ Flashlights

❌ Woods

❌ Slideshow

❌ Autopsy

❌ Evidence Disappears

❌ Scully Misses It

✔️ Mulder Ditch

❌ Sunflower Seeds

❌ Voiceover

❌ Catch Phrase

❌ Scully is a Medical Doctor

❌ Mulder is Spooky

✔️ Muullllderrrr!

❌ Fox/Dana

❌ Inappropriate Touching (that I am here for)

❌ Casual Scully

✔️ Casual Mulder

✔️ Trench Coats

❌ Bad Tie Watch

❌ Glasses Watch (but we see them on the table while Scully is testifying in front of Congress)

✔️ Taking! It! Personally!: Mulder

50 States: DC x26, New York x6 & Russia (33/50)

Investigate: Together & Apart

Solve Rate: 60%

❌ Bechdel Test: Scully doesn’t speak to another woman.

MSR: 🐝🐝

Goriness: 👽👽

Creepiness: 👽👽

Humor: 👽

Rewatch Thoughts:

Fuck yeah Scully! Please respectfully and deliberately tell off Congress. I still believe in this country. But I believe that there are powerful men in the government who do not... men who have no respect for the law and who flout it with impunity. Her speech has even more resonance given the recent impeachment hearings.

MilitaryRaid!Scully. She looks so cute in her military gear. Mulder looks silly. I mean, they both do. Also, I don’t feel great about our heroes being part of this military style raid.

Scully’s really booking it through the airport in those heels!

Skinner has a new apartment. I guess working things out with his almost ex-wife didn’t work out after 3x21 Avatar?

Ok, shirtless Skinner tying up Kyrcek. This I could get into.

The X-Files office! Finally! This is the first time that we’ve seen it this season - 8 episodes in. I missed it!

Biohazard!Scully! That’s all.

It’s unclear to me if Mulder told Scully where he was going and she’s covering for him or if he didn’t, in which case why wouldn’t she just say she doesn’t know? So I guess he did call and tell her. Which is good. I feel better about this ditch if that’s the case.

Mulder outrunning horses hehe

I’ll hold my Krycek thoughts for the second part of the two-parter.

Mulder getting vaccinated against the black oil was probably a good thing in the long run (I can’t remember if it specifically comes up again or not) but yikes that looks unpleasant!

Episode-Related Fanfic Recs:

Not my thing so I can’t recommend any specific fic, but check out Gossamer for all your Tunguska Krycek slash fic needs - Mulder/Krycek, Skinner/Krycek, Scully/Krycek

[scullysexual]

My Teacher Is Diana Fowley

Someone on ao3 asked for Diana Fowley to be Emily’s school teacher so here we are. 

ABIF Prompt | AU | 1980s | Emily AU |  A Baby Is Forever Universe | DianaFuckingFowley |

- - -

The afternoon had turned into a disaster. Arthur wouldn��t eat, wouldn’t sleep. The only thing he wanted to do was wail.

Scully was trying everything to calm him down; rocking him, bouncing him, putting him down, picking him up. Nothing seemed to work.

Arthur had proven to be a lot more difficult than Emily. She was a perfect little baby in comparison.

Between trying to study and tend to her son’s needs, the clock at ticked and time, regrettably, became less of a priority.

Arthur had just settled in the downstairs crib because he refused to settle elsewhere. Scully had finally gotten him to eat, finally gotten him to sleep when the phone rang and the wails began all over again.

A trail of profanities slipping from her mouth, she leaves Arthur- telling him she’ll be right back and heads for the phone.

“Hello,” she answers trying to keep her voice as calm and neutral as possible. Really wants to find out who just disturbed her baby.

“Hi,” says a woman who Scully guesses is not older than herself. “It’s just Emily’s school calling. We were wondering what time somebody was going to pick her up. She’s been sat on the bench…”

Fuck.

The receptionist’s words trail off as Scully looks towards the clock. 3:52. She was supposed to pick Emily up.

“Mrs Mulder. Are you there?” The woman’s voice calls her back.

“Yes, sorry. Um…her father will pick her up.”

“Thank you. We’ll let Emily know.”

They say they’re goodbyes and Scully puts down the phone. She’s forgotten how many times she’s got distracted and forgot to pick Emily up from school.

It used to be Mulder’s job. A morning person naturally, Mulder usually requested the morning shift at work but after an incident happened, his bar duties were taken away and his hours changed to afternoon or night shifts leaving Scully to feel like she had to do everything on her own until dinner time.

“Mamaaaaaaa!” the one-year-old screams and Scully sighs. Picking up the phone and dialling Mulder’s workplace.

As it rings, Scully calls back to Arthur.

“I’ll be back in a minute, baby.”

But Arthur doesn’t understand.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

He places the glass, now dry, onto the rack. They have him in the back, washing and drying dishes on a smaller pay check, all because he stopped some man from assaulting some poor woman.

He’s still surprised he was punished for that. Guess the safety of their costumers isn’t a priority here.

He picks up another glass, gives it a half-assed dry, and puts down on the rack with the others.

“Oi, Mulder!”

Mulder looks towards the back door that leads to the staff’s lunchroom. John stands in the doorway, a phone receiver in his hand, holding it towards Mulder.

“It’s your missus.”

Mulder frowns, tossing the towel down and walking towards the phone. It wasn’t like Scully to ring him in the middle of the day.

“Scully, what’s up?” he asks once the receiver is to his ear.

I need you to pick up Emily from school, her voice on the other end tells him.

It was almost 4pm. Emily should’ve been picked up 25 minutes ago. What has Scully been doing?

“I can’t,” he tells her. “I’m at work.” She knows that, of course, she rang here.

I know but Arthur’s been a nightmare all afternoon and I hadn’t looked at the clock and the school rang me and I’ve only just got him settled downstairs, and I need to study for the tests on Friday…

She was getting flustered. His new hours were taking a toll on both of them.

“Scully, it’s okay,” Mulder says, attempting to calm her down. “Is your mother around?”

She’s out of town visiting Bill Jr.

His own parents had moved out of state, Samantha was god knows where. It was really down to them now.

Mulder sighs. If Scully had been having issues with Arthur all day- which he doesn’t doubt she has- and she’s just got him settled, moving him would just start it all up again and he was ten minutes away versus her thirty minutes.

“Okay,” he says. “I’ll see if I can go on break early.”

Thank you, Scully says. Then adds. I’m sorry.

“Hey, don’t be. You’re doing better than most.”

Frankie isn’t happy that Mulder needs to go. He’s huffing and puffing even after Mulder tells him that it’s his daughter.

“You’ve got thirty minutes,” Frankie says, effectively telling Mulder to piss off. “I don’t want to hear your excuses.”

They’re not excuses, Mulder grumpily thinks as he grabs his jacket and leaves. She’s my kid.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

She’s organising the exercise books into alphabetical order. Something to do while she waits rather than a need to.

“Does this happen often, Emily?” her teacher asks. She was new, only having taken on her class last Monday while her original teacher went off to have a baby. So far Emily liked her. Most kids have to sit in reception until their parents come and get them but Miss Fowley had saw her and took her back to the classroom.

Emily shakes her head. “Not really.”

Her mom was usually good at managing time, being ready at the gate for her, usually accompanied by a crying Arthur.

“Well, it happened a bit when I was in second grade,” Emily tells her, placing the last book on the shelf. “But only because they were in college then and sometimes they would be learning when school finished.”

Tuesday was the day, Emily remembers. That would be the day where she knew she had to sit in reception while a free family member came and picked her up. Usually it was Grandma or Nana Teena but sometimes it would be Sam though she never looked happy about it.

Emily would sit hearing the staff talk. Feeling small and clutching onto her bookbag while she would hear them say things like ‘This is why teenagers shouldn’t have kids’ and they were ‘irresponsible’.

She never thought about her parents age until last year when her best friend Callum had asked her how old her mom was and Emily said she was twenty-three. Her teacher said she wasn’t allowed to talk about her mother’s age after that.

“Don’t you feel forgotten, sometimes?” Miss Fowley asks.

It’s just a question, Emily tells herself and she shakes her head.

“I have a little brother. He’s only one and he’s a hand-full.”

Miss Fowley seems surprised at that.

“Wow. You are a big sister.”

Emily smiles awkwardly. After the incident last year, Emily made it a goal to not talk about her family- her parents ages or the gap between her and her brother.

“Well,” says Miss Fowley. “You’re dad will be here soon.”

Emily smiles in response, starting to feel forgotten after all.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

He knocks on the classroom door of room 4E. Through the little rectangular window he can see Emily talking to, what he assumes, must be her teacher. The teacher turns around and Mulder feels his stomach drop.

Jesus fucking Christ, no.

Diana Fowley. Diana fucking Fowley walks towards the door. Diana fucking Fowley is his daughter’s teacher.

How the fuck did that happen?

Does she know? Surely she must know. Emily has their surname, she’s probably seen Emily’s file, saw FOX MULDER and DANA SCULLY listed under ‘father’ and ‘mother’. Of course she knows.

The door swings open and Mulder keeps his eyes averted.

“Hi,” Diana says, her voice warm and friendly. Oh she knows.

“I’m here to pick up Emily,” Mulder says choosing to focus behind Diana and at his daughter. Emily is picking up her backpack from the floor.

“You ready?” he asks Emily wanting nothing more to leave and not have an awkward conversation with Diana.

“I’ve been ready since 3:35,” Emily answers coolly.

Mulder smiles guiltily in response.

“Emily was telling me about her little brother,” Diana says looking and smiling at Emily. Mulder looks at Diana then but that had been a mistake as her eyes move so they’re both looking at each other at the same time. No looking away now.

“I didn’t know you had another kid, Fox.”

Emily eyebrow shoots right up at the mention of Mulder’s first name. Mulder’s eyes flick towards his daughter and Jesus Christ kid, don’t choose this moment now to look like Scully.

“Er, yeah…” Mulder says his eyes darting back to Diana. “Um…he’s called Arthur. He’s one.” Mulder swallows. He should leave. He only has 30 minutes before he loses his job. He really has to go and surely Diana has a home to go to as well.

“Emily mentioned. Well, I’m Miss Fowley,” Diana says as if Mulder didn’t know that. Oh, he knew that. “I’m Emily’s new teacher.” She holds her hand out.

Mulder doesn’t bother to ask what’s meant by ‘new teacher’ he can ask Emily about it in the car while he also asks her why she didn’t think to give him a heads up before this.

Mulder takes her hand, shaking it in a pitiful handshake.

“Well, it was nice to meet you,” he says ignoring the way Diana looks at him. “I’ve wasted your time already, we should really go.” He drops Diana’s hand, taking Emily’s and heads down the corridor. Diana shouts something like See you tomorrow, Emily! but Mulder ignores it.

Once in the car does he feel like he can breathe. Diana Fowley. Why is she here? She said he was moving to Washington DC. Why is she here?

And why is she Emily’s teacher?

“Do you know Miss Fowley?”

Mulder turns to Emily who has spent the last five minutes staring at him.

“What?”

“She called you Fox,” Emily says. “Mom doesn’t even called you that.”

Mulder puts the car in ignition.

“Yeah, I know her. We went to school together.”

Emily hums and Mulder knows she has more question.

“Go ahead, Em,” he says preparing himself for Twenty-Questions. “Ask.”

“It doesn’t seem like you like her.”

“It’s complicated.”

“How?”

Mulder sighs.

“You said I could ask,” Emily says.

Yes, he did. And Emily deserves answers.

“You ever see kids be picked on in school, Em?”

He looks over to her, sees her nod her head.

“Well, sometimes that can carry on past Elementary school. Sometimes those kids don’t grow up, sometimes they still be those same people they were then.”

“Did she pick on you?”

No, Diana didn’t. He was too busy getting his ass beaten by the boys to also become a victim of the girl’s too.

“No. She picked on your Mom, though.”

Emily looks surprised at that. “Really?” she asks.

Mulder nods.

“Why?”

“Well, she was smarter than them. They didn’t like that. It showed them up.”

“Them?”

Mulder smiles. “Bullies come in packs, Emi,” he says. “Three, four against one.”

A Bully is never on their own.

“I never noticed that,” Emily says. “But she’s a teacher now. Doesn’t that mean she has grew up?”

“Probably,” Mulder says. “But these things stay with you. They effect you even when you’re older, too.”

And hopefully you never have to experience that.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

She at the door with hugs and a string of I’m sorry’s falling out of her mouth.

“It’s okay,” says Emily moving out of Scully’s embrace to put her bag down. “Dad told me about Arthur and about your test.”

The test she’s about to flunk because her drain doesn’t want to retain information anymore.

“I have a new teacher,” Emily tells her.

“Really, who is she?” Scully asks as she starts clearing the textbooks from the coffee table.

“Diana Fowley.”

That was not a name Scully was expecting to hear.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

“Why is Diana Fowley teaching our daughter?”

Mulder just wanted a sip of orange juice. The bottle almost to his mouth before Scully appears in the doorway.

“And you better use a glass for that, too.”

Mulder groans. It’s his orange juice. He doesn’t remember agreeing to sharing it with the kids. But he goes into the cupboard and grabs a glass anyway.

“I wondered the same thing,” Mulder answers, pouring the drink into the glass.

“Have you seen her?”

Mulder nods. “Seen her, spoke to her-“

“Why did you speak to her?”

Mulder looks at her. “Because Emily was waiting in the classroom.”

“She normally waits in reception.”

He puts the juice back into the fridge. “Yeah well, Diana sees herself as Emily’s saviour.”

Scully tenses. “Why?”

“Emily told me that Diana asked her if she felt forgotten when nobody picked her up on time.”

“What did Emily say?”

“That she understands why.”

It broke his heart a little to know somebody asked Emily that and Emily’s reply to. Emi tried so hard at being perfected, understanding situations meanwhile the kid can’t even rely on somebody to pick her up from school on time.

“I’m gonna quit the bar job,” Mulder says.

There’s panic in Scully’s eyes. “What? No, you can’t.”

“They keep fucking me over there.”

“It’s our only income.”

“I’ll find another job. One where the hours are better and I can pick Emily up from school on time.”

“Your hours were fine before you decided to be a hero.”

Apparently everyone’s under the impression he should have let that girl be assaulted.

“What if that girl was Emily?” he asks and watches as Scully falters. “Would you think I was being a hero then?”

No answer.

“That place stinks anyway,” he adds.

“Will they let you quit?”

They wanted to get rid of him from the start.

“Oh yeah,” Mulder says, certain.

Scully sighs. “Fine.”

Mulder cocks his head to the side knowing that the whole Diana Fowley thing was still eating Scully up.

“Hey,” he says grabbing her attention. “Don’t worry about Diana. Emily said she was only taking over while her original teacher is on maternity leave. I think this is just a placement.”

Mulder hoped it was just a placement. He didn’t look forward to teacher-parent conferences anyway before that teacher became Diana Fowley.

- - -

I’m always happy to accept prompts in this universe. If you have any just send them to me. @mypanicface