#but mulder is a wonderful gentleman and i love watching him and scully

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s2 episode 24 thoughts

this episode was quite spooky. because cannibalism is real. but something about scully about to get her head chopped off and boiled seemed more outlandish than all the aliens and the guy that kills people with his shadow or even lizard man eugene tooms!

which is strange. because those things are pretty outlandish! maybe its because it was so much scarier than even evil lizard men.

let’s jump in:

so this is an episode involving more meat. did we need more meat, after the earlier meat processing content in s2 episode 10? many are saying no. but not chris carter!

we begin at a dirt road at night. in the state of arkansas. we have an older man and a younger woman named paula in a car, which is not suspicious at all! /s

oh and now the old man choking? is this natural or did she induce it with some poison. i mean maybe he deserved it, if she did. he takes some pills, so I’m guessing it is due to natural causes. now she beckons him out to the woods. 

into the woods. she says he has to catch her. is she luring him into a Bigfoot trap? we have yet to really see Bigfoot, and maybe he’s hungry. although Bigfoot is more Pacific Northwest than Arkansas, i think.

author's note: we tested negative for bigfoot in this episode :(

oh! this man tripped and is now surrounded by people with flashlights and very cool masks. get axe murdered, fucker.

back in DC! aforementioned fucker has been gone for 10 weeks and scully thinks the higher ups are sending them on a wild goose chase. “i’m not questioning the legitimacy of the case, just their motives in assigning it to us” <- damn, very well spoken by a rightfully suspicious woman

oh, but at the scene, someone saw a fire. and mulder says the fire is “supposed to be the spirits of massacred Indians” OH...

(mentally i was like, please do not be another scary Indigenous story episode. and we did in fact get that. sighs deeply. we can make things scary without making Indigenous people the scary ones! or using the trauma of genocide as a setting for spooky time! well, i'm sure you, dear reader, know that, so i shall not preach to the choir, but i will point out that these thoughts were going through my mind)

“these are only legends, mulder”, says a dismissive scully. and why is her hair looking excellent today. I mean not that it isn’t usually but damn. shoutout to the hair and makeup team.

the place on the side of the road where he went missing had a big fire! could be a bonfire, both parties thought. until mulder remembered a documentary he saw in college...

(hehehehe mulder spent college watching documentaries <3)

! MULDER LORE REVEAL ! wow it's been a while since i've gotten to format some text like that. he watched a documentary about an insane asylum in college and it gave him nightmares.

(and this may not be super relevant to his character, but to ME, it is, so i shall note it <3)

he's got the VHS from the doc all loaded up, and presses play on a guy rambling about a fire demon!! who was found in the same spot as the fire mark!!! dun dun dunnn 

(love the implication that he either purchased his own copy of the documentary that gave him nightmares in college, or had to go rent it from the video store. both are wonderful possibilities)

cut to arkansas. mulder is on the scene holding a plastic fork from the ground. wearing his silly sunglasses. lmaooo idk why they make me laugh. what a serious gentleman.

sheriff arrives at the scene. he says the witch’s peg to ward off spirits is normal there and also that the fire mark comes from illegal trash burning. and, as an American i am aware of how Americans love an illegal trash burn. but still. suspicious.

sheriff says the missing man george was chasing women out of town. lovely sounding fellow /s

wife questioning time!! he left her years ago. oh, but tea: the day before he went missing he was going to cite major health violations in the chicken plant! hmm... a cause for murder?

mulder gives the wife his phone number. also mulder is also looking very good today. but that is an evil voice in my head that ought to be silenced.

noooo, it's chicken plant time. no thank you ma’am, i would be out in the car <3

paula from the woods at work in the plant!!! taking mystery pills. seemingly in pain??

chicken cutting cam. oh, this is not for me! 

the agents chat with the manager, who says george was trying to shut them down. and while clocked in, paula is sweating. she just gasped in front of a whole bunch of chickens and some guy with very blue eyes. she sees a human head on the chicken stand and picks it up and throws it off. shoutout to this fake decapitated head and my best friends in the prop department for making such a funny creation.

(but of course, it was a hallucination, and she really just threw a poor chicken on the floor!!! his sacrifice was in vain... gone but not forgotten)

mulder is inspecting the chicken gutting operation and i've said it before and i'll say it again: he is braver than me. 

ohh, more chicken drama: george was filing a lawsuit about “line hypnosis” and it was dismissed before he vanished! he deserved to win. is there a meat processing union? there ought to be. but he was the only one citing bad health practices, the other 3 workers said it was fine... sooo what’s the truth…

“what’s that” asks mulder, who then gets shown the feed processor, and asks “chickens feed on chickens?” <- heartbreaking realization. many of us remember where we were when learning this information. i'm sure it will stick with him forever. and i'm frankly surprised he didn't know already.

NAURRR THE SLUDGE AND BLOOD nasty nasty evil

OH plot twist: paula is holding the manager with a knife to his throat… scully telling everyone to calm down. personally i would be not calm. she said “don’t get excited” but me? experiencing an active hostage situation at my place of work? i would be excited

NOOO the sheriff shot her and she fell into the feed conveyor belt processing… thing. sheriff i KNOW you are covering something up. you will not hide from me.

SHE GETS GULPED INTO THE FEED BELT THINGY GAGGG it’s giving the jungle by upton sinclair that caused many american 8th graders to confront the corruption of the meat industry

paula had gone to the doctor about headaches… like george!!! doctor had assumed the condition was stress induced. and they did have similar symptoms. 

treated them both with codine… ain’t that a bit strong?? this man doesn't seem to be a very good doctor, tbh. i mean i don't think the guy that works at the chicken plant to sew back on fingers needs to be an expert in everything but like. codine for headaches? umm girl.

mr. chaco of chaco’s chicken was paula’s grandfather… if i was a grandfather rich off of chicken money, my grandkids would not be working the processing line, let me tell u that much!

back to the agents: these two should not be looking as good as they do in a chicken processing plant. they had to really step it up today to compensate for the horrors of the set.

chicken man lives in a mansion. further evidence of corruption. paula, i would not have had you working in such conditions if i was your grandfather. there has been a deep wrong here, i can see already.

and he’s got a big hat and is feeding his chicken corn. not other chickens, like the feed he makes in his plant... seems he is aware of the ethical issues implied in his business. also, mulder with those weird ass glasses. 

cacho is going on about the subject of chickens. and how he built this town. he sure is taking an awful lot of credit for creating a town, pretty sure that's a team effort mr. chaco. he's also going on about how he thought george was trying to tear him down. 

AUTOPSY TIME!! rare degenerative disorder in da brain of paula. and scully has only seen it one other time back in med school because you can only really find it in an autopsy. nice work, doctor! <- i just typed “nice worm 🪱” so we'll let that stay for the added sense of whimsy it provides

but despite looking like a young girl fresh out of high school, paula was born in '48?! she was 47 years old. allegedly. this is not adding up. so they go on a quest to find her birth certificate and see what the truth is.

debrief in the car. so: odds are not great that she and george had the same very rare disease

during this discussion, our duo are run off the road by a chicken truck!!!! no! oh... he drove them into a river. mulder has shifted into rescue mode as the river is red with chicken gore. i feel someone might be distracting them and trying to get the body… (this was actually not the case i was just overly suspicious)

but more chicken drama: the driver had the same symptoms as george and paula! how can this be?!

“i just came up with a sick theory, mulder” (grabs her shoulder) “ooh, I’m listening” LMAOOOO this is sososo funny to me. yeah tell me ur sick theories scully you have my full attention.

GAG!! because it is both gross and shocking. her theory: what if someone put george’s body in the feed grinder, and then since it’s a prion disease, a chicken ate it, and someone ate a chicken, and it spread to the humans!!!! AHHHH! well that would be an epidemic, because they ship chickens out across the country… she glances knowingly, implying things could be very bad 

the river is filled with bird gore from the plant BLECH... who allows this??!! please say there are some modern regulations in place to prevent this being done irl.

mulder says he wants it dragged, thinking that maybe george is in there. and the sheriff is hesitant to do this. once again, i’m onto you, sheriff. i mean, a river full of chicken gore: it would be a good place to put a dead body.

and bam! a body is found. or rather. many many many bones. many bodies. and they are still going. damn.

so, we have a ton of bones. scully can put them into 9 distinct skeletons, one of which is in fact george. i love that she can do that, put the bones into distinct skeletons. she knows it's geroge from a pin in his femur!

“all of them share one, strange detail though” “well, they seem to have lost their heads” “… well, besides that” <- LMAOOOO idk why this was so funny to me... he really thought he picked up on something but he did Not.

here's the linking detail: all the bones are smooth and buffed like they have been polished. ??? who is polishing bones? it sure isn't me, i'll tell you that much. 

george’s wife is at the scene, learning her husband's body has been found, and she is sobbing. and the sheriff says “we’ll take care of you” now what does THAT mean? because it's not really sounding like the welcoming words of a man who is going to guide his neighbor through tragedy, and instead like there is something bigger at play here...

back at the plant, the doctor is mentioning another guy coming down “with the symptoms”…. omg. so this IS a known thing from the inside. mr. chaco knows but he isn’t doing anything about it!!!!! chicken dramaaaa goes crazy 

scully at the scene of all the bones, carrying a bucket of chicken. lmao. she is braver than me, for i would have gone vegan the first moment i set foot in chicken processing land.

mulder does some digging: 87 people have disappeared in the area in 50 years! that seems... a lot? and he thinks the same person or persons were responsible. he thinks they were EATEN!! boiled in a pot.

“they used similar evidence to prove cannibalism among on the Anasazi tribe of New Mexico” okay: 1. why do you know that 2. need to look into these allegations for myself and 3. Anasazi… that is the title of the next episode!!! what could this mean!! another cannibalism episode?!

scully is very sad to say that paula could have gotten sick from eating george :( girl I’m not convinced the chicken is clean put it down NOW 

cannibalism = eternal life? follow for more crazy mulder theories!

she puts aside the chicken……. good!

mr. chaco says “he’ll handle it” and george's wife doris arrives, saying she “can’t keep lying”… she says “she did it” (!!)

OH????? she... killed her husband? that is a bold thing to admit to.

“we’re gonna take good care of you”, says mr. chaco, which raises the question: are they a cannibal cult???? is that what he means when he mentions that he “built this town”???

now what the hell is going on. <- an interjection i stand by

mulder and scully are going to the courthouse to look at the papers and all the birth records are burnt!! doris calls mulder and says he’s afraid mr. chaco will kill her… they split up…. nooooo i hate splitting up!!! i watched so much scooby doo as a kid!

GASP! a guy in a mask like we saw at the very beginning of the episode is in doris' home!!! drumbeat playing while she screams…. overall, this is very not good, i wrote, referring to the use of Indigenous imagery for this murder, and also doris being murdered in the first place

scully at the scene of the murder ft. big ass flashlight. she gets in through the side door. gun: out. trench coat: open. looks: served. diagnosis: baby girl that could kill me, and i am respectful of the fact that she has this power yet refrains from using it on me.

mulder at mr. chaco’s house. mr. chaco has some… stuff in his home. including photos with Indigenous people and also bones. having human bones in your house, and especially on display, is not a good sign of ethics in play. and a skull. Oh! it says the skull is from a tribe in New Guinea... why tf does he have that. put it back???

at the back of chaco's parlor, we see a mysterious door. mulder is busting it open.

LORD ALMIGHTY, I DID NOT THINK THERE WOULD BE HEADS INSIDE??? HELLO???

so that must be where all of the heads that mulder noticed were missing have gone. they're sewn up sort of like shrunken heads. very spooky. once again, pour one out for the props department for such a creation.

noooo chaco is in the house with scully, who was investigating the call of doris. NOOOO HE KNOCKED HER OUT!!! this seriously needs to stop happening like i'm worried about the brain damage she is experiencing.

back to mulder cam. goodness. all of these heads. 

in a field now. doctor is serving some soup. to a bunch of people. who are eating around a big bonfire. do NOT tell me scully is in that meal....

she is not. YET! but he is bringing her over to be roasted. and they ate doris! chaco is yelling about turning on each other and how they were only supposed to eat outsiders. girl you shouldn't be eating anybody last time i checked. 

man in the mask shows up with an axe. and chaco is decapitated in front of scully. who is put into the decapitation thingy next. GIRL THIS IS FUCKED UP!!!

mulder on the scene, just in time. he shoots the dude in the mask.

“you alright?” he asks, brushing her hair back after lifting her out of the decapitation machine. my good friend, i would venture to guess that she is not quite alright at the moment!!! this will take an awful lot of unpacking!!!

sigh. but the tenderness of the near death experience. coming back to life in someone's arms. yeah i'll romanticize that.

TEA!!! the sheriff was the one under the mask!!!!!! i knew he was up to no good.

wrap up: chicken place shut down. unclear how many citizens of the town ate people. 27 have become ill with prion disease. chaco’s plane was shot down in 1947, and he spent 7 months with a cannibalistic tribe, and also he was born in 1902, so he was 93 at his death- so the cannibalism really WAS extending life. and we see some more feed being scooped to the chickens as scully says his remains have yet to be found. end scene.

HUH???? what in da hell. so what are we thinking kids…?

well, i'll tell you something: turns out i am afraid of cannibal cults, no matter how outlandish they seem! i guess when you get a villain or evil situation of the week show like this, you WILL learn exactly what kind of fear pushes your buttons. i can imagine almost nothing scarier than being led to the slaughter like scully was. seems a purposeful commentary on the meat industry, especially when taken in with the other meat episode this season.

so, if i were scully, i do think i would need to take a week or so off. but she is just built different than i am.

some things bugged me here. first of all, like i mentioned, you don't need to throw in Indigenous people to make a scary story. like is the thought of a bunch of arkansas cannibals not horrific enough? the scary was there!

second, i have not been doing a kidnapping count, but i feel that scully is getting the rough of the deal here. i believe in gender equality when it comes to characters being kidnapped. like, an even 1:1 ratio. why are we denying mulder his damsel in distress arc? does anyone think about how he would feel? how nice it would be to see scully burst in with a gun and shoot the fellow that was about to cannibalize him?

still, it is rare an episode actually spooks me, so i must give credit where it is due. even if it felt a little outlandish, your girl was frightened! scully needs a vacation now. i also thoroughly laughed at the sick theories line and his funny sunglasses.

it's funny to note, but i like the episodes that are either very silly and light hearted, or incredibly angsty the best. and that may seem contradictory, but you cannot tell me that one breath and humbug may be on opposite ends of the tone spectrum, but they are both objectively Perfect. i'll have to think more on why they are the best in my opinion, but i think honestly i would watch these two read the dictionary.

[boldlyvoid]

Million Dollar Man | Chapter Five

18+

summary: Spencer's therapist recommended he branch out and meet new people who don't want to talk about his work... she didn't expect him to sign up for a Sugar Daddy website.

Content warnings: sugar daddy!spencer, age gaps (14 years), daddy kink, blow jobs, handcuffs, thigh fucking, public sex, exhibitionism, edging, vibrators, dirty talk, dom spencer

word count: 4.6K

a/n: updates on Wednesdays and Saturdays

Chapter Five | Masterlist

He’s ripped from a peaceful slumber by his work phone ringing on the night table. Y/N asleep on his chest, he tries to reach for it without waking her, successfully he answers with a groggy whisper, “hello?”

“Morning sleepy head?” Emily laughs, “it’s 10 am, Reid, why are you whispering?”

“I’m with my girlfriend, she’s still asleep,” he realizes he’s never told the team flat out that he was seeing someone, they all guessed but none of them had really asked.

“Oh,” Emily seems just as shocked that he said it. “We have a local case, I need you here for the geo profile and then you can go back to your mandated break.”

“I’ll be in, in 30,” he replies before hanging up.

“Can I come?” She whispers against him, obviously awake from all the commotion.

“Sure,” he shrugs, “if you don’t mind seeing and hearing about whatever horrific thing happened this time.”

“I don’t,” she sits up and stretches, “come on Mulder, we’ve got a case to crack.”

He laughs, “sure thing Scully.”

—

He’s nervous in the elevator on the way up to the BAU, Y/N on the other hand is so excited she’s practically vibrating. She’s dressed for the part, with her little visitor's badge and Spencer’s hand held tightly in her own, she basically drags him towards the bullpen when the doors open.

“Spence!” Luke calls for him, Tara and Matt turn around with big smiles to see him. “Who’s this?”

“Uh,” Spencer swallows sharply, “this is my girlfriend, Y/N this is Luke, Matt and Tara.”

She lets go of his hand to shake theirs, he watches as they all smile and introduce themselves to her, causing the rest of the team to notice the new person in the room and rush over. They have a lot of questions, they’re all very surprised she’s as young as he was when he started at the bureau and that he’s actually bringing her around.

When he finds out what’s going on, he’s really glad he brought her in. There’s been a few bomb threats in D.C, one of which is the building across from Y/N’s apartment. They’re trying to keep hysteria to a minimum, he knows he wouldn’t have been able to tell her if he didn’t bring her, he also knows he would have broken protocol to get her out of there.

She sits at his desk while he works, looking through all his things for a while before Spencer hears a familiar voice in the bullpen. Penelope was called in for backup, making eye contact with Y/N as soon as she walked in and cheering. “Oh! You’re here!”

Spencer leaves the briefing room, abandoning the geo-profile to introduce Penelope to the girl she helped him find, he runs down the stairs and wraps his arms around her.

“Spencer,” she relaxes into his embrace and holds him close, “I’ve missed you so much.”

When Spencer pulls away, the smile on his face is remarkable, “Penelope, this is Y/N,” he says her name and Penelope automatically knows who she is.

He told her right after he bought her whole Wishlist, Penelope has known about her the longest and yet she’s never been able to meet her. She turns to Y/N with a smile, “are you a hugger?”

Y/N stands and wraps her arms around her, “I think I owe you a very big thank you,” she whispers in Penelope’s ear.

“For what?”

“Teaching grandpa over here how to use the internet,” she teases him, “and for your helpful tips, he was the nicest one I met on there.”

“You’re very welcome,” Penelope pulls back with another smile, holding Y/N’s face in her hands, “and thank you.”

Y/N pulls her into another hug and now everyone is watching, Spencer knows he’s going to be bombarded with questions eventually but for now, Y/N is going with Penelope to her office and Spencer has a map to look at while he stresses himself out.

Matt, Tara and Emily head to the scene to join JJ, Rossi and Will, leaving Luke with Spencer in the briefing room.

“Can I ask?”

Spencer nods, “go ahead.”

“How did you meet her? Was she one of your students?”

He doesn’t know how to answer, not because he’s ashamed of it or of her, rather because he doesn’t know if she’ll want people to really know. “Penelope helped me get online to meet people, I made an account on a sugar daddy website thinking it would be easier to pay someone who doesn’t know me to hang out rather than try and make a new friend.”

“That’s smart,” Luke nods along as he listens. “She seems really cool.”

“She’s the best,” he smiles. “She’s really smart and talented, she’s an author actually, her books coming out in January.”

“I’ll have to get a copy,” Luke smiles right back.

“Her publisher and I have actually planned a big birthday party slash final draft party, if you and the team want to come and have drinks and get to know her more, that would be really nice,” Spencer offers, knowing it’s about time they all celebrated something together.

“I’d love to come, and I’ll bring Penelope,” Luke’s just as excited as he is.

“I’m a little surprised you didn’t know already, being with Penelope and everything?”

He shrugs, “we don’t talk about work or really gossip about the team now that she’s not working here, it makes her a little sad that she left but she’s doing a lot better just coming in occasionally.”

“I didn’t think I’d like my months off at first, either, but now I’m also debating leaving,” he knows it's a lie. He’s already written his letter of recognition, he’s just waiting for the go-ahead from Y/N that they’re moving to California.

“16 years is a really long time to be doing this job,” he agrees, “I’m sure if you wanted to leave the bureau would offer you your full retirement package early, given everything you’ve been through for this country.”

Spencer nods, “don’t let this job take your spark, you’re very wonderful, Luke, and I’d hate to see you lose it for the greater good.”

“My greater good is just down the hall,” he smirks, “I make the world a better place for the woman I love, she’s the reason I get up every day and come to work because I can’t wait to get home to her safely.”

Luke has always loved Penelope, it’s been very obvious, and yet she didn’t want really anything to do with him until Derek advised her to be nice. She was so busy thinking about all her other babies leaving the nest after Derek that she didn’t take the time to consider bringing in Luke to the nest for warmth and love as well.

“When are you asking her to marry you?”

Luke turns bashful, a slight blush on his cheeks as he stares at the table, “Christmas, it’s her favourite time of the year.”

“Have you talked to Derek?” Spencer only worries slightly, after what happened with Kevin he doesn’t want to see it happen to Luke.

“Nope, I’ve talked to her brothers though, we’re going to California again this year for Christmas and they all said they’d love to have me in the family,” Luke smiles, “the Garcias are my favourite.”

Spencer isn’t normally a hugger but he walks around the table and wraps Luke up, “I’m asking Y/N in a week.”

“No way?”

He nods, “she’s the greatest good I’m ever going to get.”

“Amen, brother.”

—

Penelope’s job was incredible, she was in awe as she watched her tap away at her keyboard and answer a million and one questions. She reminded her of Ned from Kim Possible and she knew if she said that to anyone she’d give away just how young she is.

She’s gotten a lot of looks, she knows people are talking about it and yet she doesn’t really care. There isn’t any malice behind the stares and the whispers, they all seem genuinely surprised that Spencer has a girlfriend over the fact she’s in her 20’s.

There’s a single dull moment and she turns to Y/N, “can I please have the juicy details, please,” she begs and it makes her feel giddy.

She’s never really had any girlfriends like this, and she certainly didn’t have anyone to tell about Spencer. “He’s the love of my life, I’m completely serious.”

Penelope squealed, “that’s all I’ve ever wanted for him, ugh this is so exciting! Are you guys serious? How long has it been?”

She nods, “not long, uh he got me this necklace a week or two ago and we’ve been moving pretty slow for his sake. In the last 10 months he’s become my bestie and I’ve convinced him to move in and he sleeps in my bed now and I love waking up beside him… he’s a real gentleman.”

“That’s good, he’s never been able to take the scenic route in life… I know you’re only here cause he trusts you and if he trusts you that means you know everything and if you know ever—“

“Yeah,” she cuts her off, “I know about all of it and everyone who’s hurt him and how he’s hurt himself but what’s more important is that it doesn’t phase me, he’s just a person trying to deal with the life he’s been given, we all are.”

Penelope wraps her up in a gentle hug, “he’s always needed someone like you.”

It makes her heartbreak just a tiny bit thinking about how as long he didn’t have anyone. Sure, he was surrounded by his friends at work and loved enough that they all brought him back home but he was never cared for the way she would have done it. There’s a weird maternal instinct that comes over her with Spencer and she knows exactly why, all she knows is she wants to love him and care for him for the rest of his life.

If she lives to be 100, she hopes he lives to be 116, because there isn’t a day she wants to spend on this earth where Spencer Reid isn’t alive and beside her.

She’s not going to cry in Penelope’s arms after just meeting her so she pulls back with a smile, “but what kind of juicy details are we talking? Cause I can’t embarrass him too bad…”

Penelope’s laugh is evil as she rubs her hands together, “a little birdie whose name rhymes with shmerek said he knows how to use that mouth for more than just talking…”

It makes her laugh almost a little too hard and she starts to feel her face heat up, she simply nods, “yeah, we haven’t gone all the way but from what’s happened so far, I can agree.”

Penelope turns in her rolling chair and laughs, “ugh that’s so great, I’m glad you’re having a good time— I mean I always thought Spencer would be good in bed after all the chats we’ve had about kinks and shit, he’s really educated, obviously, but I always knew that it would translate from paper to real-life very easily.”

“Oh totally,” she nods feverishly, “we talked about that before actually, virginity is simply a construct used to control women and make them feel pure or dirty, to feel like they can take something from a woman and yet virgins are so sexual and in tune with their needs and wants that they typically are good or at least know what to do from whatever porn they’ve consumed when it comes down to it. How the more in tune with someone's sexuality that they are the better they are in bed because they apply what they want to their partner and almost get off more on the fact someone is enjoying them than the fact they’re being pleasured.”

Penelope shakes her head with a loving smile, “you listen when he talks, you love every part of him and you’re beautiful… he really hit the jackpot.”

She brushes it off with a laugh, “I got pretty lucky with him too.”

Her phone rings before she can agree, answering with a cheerful tone, Spencer is on the other end, “do you have my beautiful girlfriend with you still?”

“Present,” she answers for herself, “are you still here, dad-Spence?”

She bites her lip and closes her eyes, fuck.

“Yeah, uh, I am, we think we got the actual building with the bomb, they’ve sent the team down there to clear it and check it out.”

“I’ll head back to the bullpen, then,” she stands and heads to the door, not wanting to face Penelope after almost calling him daddy right in front of her.

“Hey,” she calls to Y/N, “don’t be embarrassed. I get it, believe me, I’ve answered some calls in here with the dirtiest remarks to the completely wrong people. But, I’ll see you later?”

She smiles, “yeah, I’d love to see you again.”

In the bullpen, Spencer’s by his desk all alone. His teams cleared out and now it was just the office staff wandering around. She wraps her arms around his waist and rests her head on his back, “ready to go home?”

“Uh, not yet…” he turns to look at her, “I don’t want to bring you back to D.C unless the case is closed.” He looks nervous and she understands it perfectly.

“Okie Dokie, she smiles, leaning in for a hug to get close to his ear, “can we fuck in a storage closet to pass the time?”

He laughs but he takes her hand and he pretends to take her on a tour, he leads her down the hall and towards the filing room where he knows no one will be. “No one has really used this room in ages, since we went digital, and Penelope had all this stuff put online anyway.”

“So you can bend me over that table and rail me next time we come back?”

“Or?” She hears his playful tone and smirks to herself, letting him manhandle her hands behind her back as he bends her over a table, “I could fuck these big beautiful thighs of yours?”

“So only you can get off? Please,” She scoffs at him, wanting to piss him off to see where it gets her, wiggling her ass back against him as she does so.

He unbuttons her pants and drags them down her legs to leave her in just her thong, taking a handful of her ass and squeezing before laying a hard slap against her, she gasps at the feeling but also at the fact it was so loud.

“They’re going to hear you?!” She whispers with a disappointed tone.

“Isn’t that what you said you wanted? You wanted everyone to know only daddy can take care of you?” He uses her own words against her and she whines. “That’s what I thought.”

“No, but seriously,” she turns her head to look at him, “check my pocket.”

He does exactly that, finding one of her little bullet vibes in the front pocket of her jeans, “you planned this?”

“I knew we’d be having some kind of sex somewhere in this building,” she smirks. “Also my safe word is red but keep going.”

“Alrighty, then,” she can hear the smirk on his face as he thinks it over.

He takes his handcuffs out of his back pocket and cuffs her, “you know, it’s public indecency looking like this in here, technically it’s a federal offence and it’s my duty as a federal officer to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

She swallows sharply, pushing back against his groin and gasping when her bare asscheek meets the cold metal of his gun in his holster. Sometimes she forgot he was a real FBI agent, sometimes it didn’t feel real to her because he was just her nerdy boyfriend and he never had any of his "cop props" with him… suddenly they weren’t just accessories to her anymore, he was actually a cop who just bent her over a table and cuffed her and now he’s going to fuck her "big beautiful thighs" as he called them.

“What’s the sentence, agent?” She plays along because damn he’s hot like this.

He presses his chest to her back as he leans in close to her ear, “It’s doctor, and you know that.”

He turns on the vibrator and rests it inside her underwear, right against her clit at the lowest setting, her thighs twitch at the feeling and all she wishes is that she had something to hold on to.

She whines again when she hears his belt buckle dangle and his zipper open, he grips his cock at the base and drags the head between her cheeks before slipping between her things with a sigh, “and it’s taking my time, you’re just going to have to, rather impatiently, deal with it.”

“Yes, doctor,” she closes her eyes and waits for the feeling of his cock between her legs but he doesn’t push in.

He places his feet on either side of hers so that she can't open her legs any further and finally, finally breaches her thighs. He groans at the drag of his cock against her skin as the vibrations from her panties continue to make her legs quake. She lets out a shaky breath and reaches for his shirt as he presses against her once more. Grabbing his tie instead, she pulls on it and he gasps for air.

“Sorry,” she mumbles with a smirk, not sorry at all for slightly choking him as she continues to hold his tie.

He swats her hands away from his tie and grips the cuffs to separate her hands, pushing them further up her back until it’s almost uncomfortable. The most uncomfortable thing about this was the fact he wasn’t inside of her, she felt so empty as she clenched around nothing. The stimulation on her clit was nice, the feeling of him taking her from behind is ungodly and yet he’s not in her. It’s the worst punishment in the whole world.

It was nowhere near enough to get her off and he knew that she wanted so much more that she wasn’t going to get, whining as he kept his thrusts at the same slow pace. It was agonizing, she squeezed her legs together more to tease him but he ended up liking it. There was nothing she could do for more, she was just going to have to let him take her, and that thought was what brought her closer.

“Please?” She begged, sounding just as desperate as she thought she would and not giving a single fuck.

“Please what?” He snaps his hips against her just a bit harder with each thrust.

She gasps again before biting her lip to hold back a moan, “finish in my mouth?” She begs once more, “please?”

He pulls off of her and yanks her off the table, turning her around, she drops to her knees without being told and opens her mouth immediately. He grips her by her hair and guides her towards his cock, slipping it past her lips and right down her throat.

He groans at the feeling, she closes her eyes for a moment to enjoy the feeling of his heavy cock in her mouth. Taking him more forcefully than ever before, he’s too caught up in the moment to realize he might be a little too rough but she also doesn’t mind. Breathing through her nose to stay calm she takes him as far as she can, pressing her nose to his pubes he can feel how hot her breath is as she struggles to breathe.

“Such a good girl,” he pulls her off so she can breathe for a moment, “you want my cum so bad don’t you?”

“Yes please, daddy,” she replies with a rasp in her voice that makes it obvious where he’s been.

She takes him in her mouth once more, sucking earnestly to get him closer and closer to the edge. He’s whining, pulling her hair and doing everything in his power not to thrust against her face, even though she’s okay with it.

She knows when he’s close because his cock always twitches in the same spot, it’s a tell-tale sign that he’s going to cum in a second. She applies more suction, running her tongue along the underside before taking him all the way once more just in time for him to cum right down her throat with each swallow.

He’s not quiet, anyone walking past the door will hear him panting and gasping, muttering good girl under his breath, he’s more fucked out by this blow job than she’s ever made him before. She can’t help but smirk as he pulls away and leaves her there on her knees, covered in spit and drool and unable to wipe her own mouth due to the fact she’s still fucking handcuffed.

She rests against his shoe, pressing the vibrator against her clit a little more, she twitches at how good it feels but it’s still not enough to get her off, and a part of her doesn’t want to.

He pulls her up to her feet and sits her down on the table he was just pretending to fuck her against. He attempts to spread her legs and get between them but she stops him, “leave the vibe where it is and let’s just go home?”

“You want to walk out of this building with a vibrator in your panties, and say goodbye to my co-workers and friends knowing you could cum anytime?”

She smirks, “yes, but I won't cum cause this pathetic toy isn’t as good at you.”

He clicks the button to turn it up a speed and she gasps, pushing against the feeling and moaning into it, “I’d like to see you try that.”

—

He takes her on the rest of the “tour” with that vibrator in her panties, she’s getting more and more flustered the more they look around. Eventually, he shows her the library, getting her alone in the back corner where he can talk to her without the risk of people knowing what’s going on.

“I can’t,” she whines as he presses her against the shelves, “please?”

“Please what?”

“Turn it off, daddy, I can’t take it anymore,” she grips his suit jacket tightly as she looks up at him with the eyes he can’t say no to.

“Mmm,” he hums, reaching into her pants to free her from the stimulation, she relaxes finally. “What do you think you deserve now?”

“Don’t wanna cum till we’re at home,” she whispers, “but you’ll have to make it quick because we have a flight to catch at 8.”

“Fuck,” he whispers like he forgot. “I hope we can get back into the apartment in time.”

“Why?”

“The bomb was in the basement of the building beside yours,” he admits and the whole facade fades, “that’s why I’m not taking you home yet.”

“That’s why you wanted to fuck me,” she whispers with a giggle. “You could have at least told me this was a ‘you almost died’ rush for you.”

“I didn’t want to say it like that,” he admits and a depression washes through his blood, he feels the low settle as he drops, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she takes his face in her hands and makes him look her in the eyes, “I love you, I’m glad we’re both safe. Everything in there is replaceable, you and me aren’t. This is a really good thing, Spencer.”

He nods, doing what she’s told him so many times she wants him to do, telling her his thoughts so that he’s no longer haunted alone, “when I told my friend Derek about you, he said dating a younger woman means I’ll never have to worry about you dying of old age before me. That’s one of his fears being the same age as Savannah, but I’ve lost so many people I never even thought about getting old with you I’ve just wanted to keep this version of you safe and with me forever.”

“Penelope said she always wished you’d find someone like me, and my only thought was If I live to be 100, I hope you live to be 116 because there isn’t a day I want to spend on this earth where Spencer Reid isn’t alive and beside me,” he whispers with a smile, “but now I’m thinking if you live to be 100, I don’t want to go past 84.”

“You can’t say that,” he whispers, tears bubbling in his eyes, “what if I die tomorrow? I need to know you’re going to be fine and not end your wonderful existence because I’m not here anymore. You’re too wonderful to put all your worth on me.”

She doesn’t want to cry, she already looks like she’s been fucked and now she’s a mess, she pulls him into a kiss so he’ll stop talking and they can just be together, it was hard enough for her thinking he was going to die eventually, let alone him hypothesizing dying tomorrow.

She rests her forehead against his, “we always do this.”

“What?”

“It’s like orgasms open the emotions or something,” she snuffles which turns into a laugh, “do you think our kids are going to find it weird that you’re so much older than me?”

Everything takes him for a loop, “uh,” he struggles to find the words, pulling back and looking at her as her face drops, “I um—

“You don’t want kids anymore?” She looks genuinely saddened and he doesn’t know how to answer.

“I do,” he nods, “just—“

“Not with me?” She puts the words in his mouth.

“With you, just not yet,” he holds her by the shoulders, “I need more time with you before we have a kid, I need to love life and be in a good place and somewhere where I can focus all my attention on them, and I can’t yet.”

“I want a baby by 30,” she whispers before pressing her lips together awkwardly, “46 isn’t too old to be a dad, I’ve seen men become fathers at 80.”

He laughs as the anxiety leaves him, “a little California surfer baby wouldn’t be too bad.”

“Well, we fuck like rabbits, we might get there sooner than you planned,” she nudges him, “you’re a wonderful boyfriend, and if you don’t mind, I’d like for you to stay my boyfriend for a little longer? I’m not ready to be a wife or a mom and change my name when I just got it put on a published book.”

“I’ll change mine to yours,” he replies like it's nothing, “or keep yours and we’ll hyphenate the kid's names.”

“It’s plural now?” She teases him once more.

“Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you,” he assures her, “forever.”

“You’d pluck a star from the sky for me wouldn’t you, Doctor Y/L/N?”

He laughs at how it sounds but he kinda likes it. Her word choice is even funnier to him, however, because he’s actually gone out of his way to pluck a star for her. She has no idea, but her last present is a big one.

She struggled to get her own name on a book for so long, now there’s a star named after her, in the sky for everyone to see for the rest of time.

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[silhouetteofacedar]

Fox Mulder, Closet Romantic Ch. 2: Casual Friday the 13th

Previous Chapter - AO3 Link - MSR, rated E

He gives himself a pep talk on the way to work the next morning. It feels ridiculous.

Just ask her out, he thinks. Be casual. Invite her to grab a drink, act like you’re going whether she joins you or not. It’s just Scully.

That’s some bullshit; she’s not just anything to him. She’s everything.

Also he doesn’t go to bars much, and never alone, so he’s not sure how subtle this will be.

He pushes the thoughts out of his head until they’re leaving the office at the end of the day, gathering their things and donning winter layers.

“Buy you a drink, Agent Scully?” he tosses out casually, taking her coat from the rack.

“Hm, what’s the occasion?” she asks.

“Friday the thirteenth; I’m testing my luck,” he replies, holding her coat open for her.

She slips her arms into the sleeves. “I guess one wouldn’t hurt,” she decides.

Huh. That was surprisingly easy.

He chalks it up to beginner’s luck and ushers her out the door with a hand on her back.

They end up at Casey’s Bar because it’s close to the Hoover Building, and neither of them had wanted to walk too far through the cold February night. Mulder’s a little nervous, but not enough to let it show. At the risk of being overconfident, he thinks it’s actually going pretty well. This outing is markedly different from every first date he’s had in the past. There’s no need for small talk with Scully, no pressure to act more gregarious or charming than he naturally is. Scully herself is a refreshing presence, like a crisp spring breeze. Cool without being austere, gentle and yet invigorating.

Also she doesn’t know it’s a date, so there’s that.

They perch at the far end of the counter and shoot the shit, talk about work. She orders a draught beer, and seeing the large glass in her little hand makes his stomach flutter nonsensically. He orders one too, just to keep pace with her, though he suspects she could drink him under the table if the occasion ever arose. The thought is strangely erotic.

Mulder watches her full pink lips press against the edge of her glass and he clears his throat awkwardly. Down, boy. He scrambles for a diversion.

“Any special plans for tomorrow night?” he asks, taking a foamy swallow of beer.

“What’s- oh.” Scully sets down her glass. “No, not this year,” she says softly.

He suddenly feels like a prick.

“You?” she asks, because she’s a polite human being.

Diffuse the moment, buddy. “I’ve got a pretty hot date, actually.”

Her shoulders stiffen momentarily. Interesting. “Oh?” she says lightly.

“Yeah, the boys invited me over to pick apart some found footage they stumbled upon. Frohike’s making chili.”

Scully’s face breaks into a smile, and he feels a wash of relief. She shakes her head. “You know, for about two seconds I thought you might actually have a life. It was a surreal experience.”

“I have a life, Scully,” he insists. It’s you. Aliens, conspiracy, and you.

“Mhm,” she hums, licking a bit of stray foam off her upper lip, causing a twinge south of his belt buckle. “Mulder, can I ask you a highly personal question?”

He coughs awkwardly. “No guarantees that I’ll answer, but sure. Hit me.”

She suddenly seems nervous. “Well… we’ve known each other for five years now, and we spend a lot of time together. I’ve met your mother, your friends. And in all that time, I’ve not known you to go on a single date.”

Besides this one, he thinks. “And?” he prompts.

She absently wipes her finger through the condensation on her glass. “Well, I can’t figure out why not. Your - preferences - are quite evident, and I’m sure finding a willing partner would be fairly easy for you, at least for… casual encounters.”

I don’t want casual encounters, he thinks. I want to burn pancakes for you on Sunday mornings.

He huffs out a breath of laughter. “I have it on good authority that I’m not the best company, Scully. What makes you think it’d be easy?”

She takes a long pull of her beer. “Because you’re very attractive.”

His heart stops momentarily, then starts back up at twice the speed. He scrambles for some composure. “Oh, so you think I’m attractive,” he teases lightly. He hopes she doesn’t notice the sudden tremble in his fingers.

Scully nods, as though she hadn’t just dropped a bomb on him. “Yes, I do. A lot of people do, Mulder,” she adds quickly. The lighting in the bar is dim, so he assumes he’s imagining the flush on her cheeks. Or it’s the beer. “The women’s restroom at the Bureau is a cesspool of gossip.”

“Well I’m not the only hot piece of ass in the X-Files division,” he says, glancing at her over the rim of his glass.

“Don’t let Skinner hear you say that,” she quips. “He’s shy.”

Mulder grins, amused by her deflection. “People talk about you too, Scully. I’ve had to fend off suitors for you more than once.” Now it’s her turn to squirm, he thinks.

She blinks rapidly. “You’re joking.”

Mulder chuckles. “Swear. Every once in a while a guy will ask me something about you. I tell ‘em to ask you themselves, and I assume they usually chicken out.”

“What kind of things do they want to know?”

Mulder shakes his head. “Let’s just say they’re not asking me your favorite color,” he says simply, lifting his glass to his mouth once more. “You can imagine the rest.”

Scully presses her lips together. “I don’t have to, unfortunately,” she sighs. “Thanks for having my back,” she adds.

He shrugs. “I’m your partner,” he says. “I’ll always have your back.”

He suddenly remembers a conversation he had a little over a year ago, a month or so before Scully’s birthday. It seems like a fitting time to tell her.

“There’s only been one guy that I thought was alright,” he says. “I, uh, never told you this, Scully, because it was confidential, but seeing as the subject in question is now deceased…”

Scully turns to him on her stool. “Mulder, what?”

“Pendrell. He liked you.”

She knits her brows together in that adorable way she has. “I liked him too.”

“I mean, he really liked you,” Mulder emphasizes. “He asked me once if you were seeing anyone.”

“Oh,” she says. "What did you tell him?”

“I told him ‘Agent Scully’s personal life is her business, and any questions regarding it should be posed to her directly’.”

“Very formal,” she muses. “I should print that on my business cards for you to hand out.”

“The thought’s crossed my mind. Are you currently accepting applications for the position of ‘boyfriend’?” Mulder asks. “I’d be happy to field candidates.”

“Oh, I bet you’d love that,” Scully says with an eye roll. “Admit it, you like interrogating suspects. Especially when you think they’re mutants of some kind.”

“I promise that any potential boyfriends will be firmly terrestrial and completely unremarkable.”

The sentence hangs in the air for a long moment. “I don’t know that I want that after all,” Scully finally says quietly. “The husband with a nine-to-five, the picket fence, the priest over for lunch after Sunday mass. I’ve seen too much, done too much, to really fit into that picture anymore.”

Mulder feels a pang in his chest, the old familiar guilt creeping in. “This is a lonely path,” he admits. “Working nonstop to find evidence, only to have it be discounted offhand.”

“No closure, no arrests, no satisfying conclusions to leave you feeling a little bit safer knowing you did your job,” Scully adds.

Mulder rubs his hand over his mouth, nodding. “Just weird substances that nobody can explain and accounts of phenomena that nobody believes. Spooky shit.”

Scully raises her drink with a sudden levity. “To spooky shit,” she toasts.

Their glasses clink, and the contact chimes in Mulder’s ears. A kiss of half-empty pints.

Mulder bites his lip absently, gathering his next words. “So… what do you want?” he asks carefully, leaning in a fraction.

Scully shakes her head, sighing softly. “That’s the big question, isn’t it? I can’t even think about long term at this point. My life is so different from what I’d planned, and I’m still adapting.”

“Alright, forget long term for the moment,” Mulder prompts. “What’s something that you want that you can acquire within, say, the next month or so?”

“You granting wishes now, Mulder?” she asks coyly, taking a sip of beer.

“Depends on what you ask for,” he replies, voice low.

It feels as though they’re circling the truth, caught in each other’s orbit, traveling an ellipse of the unspoken. He wonders if she feels it too. The beer has him weightless, spinning out into the unexplored reaches of space between them. He wants to grab her hand on the worn bar counter, anchor himself to her sun-warmed earth.

“As strange as it sounds,” she says after a moment, “I’m… oddly contented. If I spent more time on it I’m sure I could give you a whole list of things I feel I’m lacking, but at this moment none of them really matter.”

His heart accelerates. “Must be some beer,” he jokes.

She smiles at him, a soft closed-lip turn of her mouth that warms him better than any liquor. “Company’s not half bad either. Despite whatever good authority has told you otherwise.”

He drops a hand onto hers then, gives it a brief squeeze before returning it to his glass and finishing his beer.

They walk back to the FBI parking garage, arms bumping each other as they brace themselves against the winter chill. Mulder escorts Scully to her car because he’s a gentleman and squeezing out every last second he can with her.

Scully ducks her head, seeming almost shy. “Thanks for inviting me. I haven’t been out in a while,” she says simply. “This was nice.”

Mulder shrugs, suddenly unsure how to orient his limbs. He wants to hug her, but he knows this isn’t the right time. “Don’t mention it,” he replies, shoving his hands into his coat pockets.

“Enjoy your ménage à quatre with the Gunmen,” she says with a cheeky grin.

“I’ll save some kisses from Frohike for you,” he replies with a wink.

They face each other, suddenly quiet. It feels as though they waded too far into the ocean and drifted down shore, losing sight of their picnic spot. They float in the silence, buoyed by their exchange, but uncertain as to where they stand.

“Goodnight,” Mulder says finally, because he can’t think of what else to say beyond that and ‘I love you’. Or ‘come home with me’.

“‘Night,” she replies, unlocking her car door and slipping inside.

He wanders aimlessly over to his car and bundles into the driver’s seat, heaving a deep, half-contented sigh. He considers the evening a tentative success, despite a somewhat unsatisfactory conclusion.

He jerks off when he gets home, holding Scully’s sweet face in his mind’s eye as he comes shamefully into his own lonely hand.

[scullydubois]

Only the Light Ch. 19

19/? | AU where Melissa moves in with Scully after Scully’s abduction | angst, msr slow-burn, occasional fluff | currently: mid-s3 (canon-divergent) | T | 5.3k | previous chapters | read on ao3 | tagging: @today-in-fic <3

Fate touches Scully's life, as does her own free will.

-----------------------

Can you still call something a miracle when you could not have gone on without it? When, if it hadn’t happened, the death knell would have sounded in your memory? Is that really a miracle, or is it just what had to occur? Certainly what keeps you breathing wouldn’t be so highly esteemed if the chips fell the other way. It would be called a tragedy, and no one wants to live in a world where every moment is caught between the two.

Scully existed there for a little while, but she’s escaped. Maybe for good. Because this--the Lace’s sacrifice, her signature on the adoption paper, her baby in her arms--is no miracle. This is God realizing she’s gotten her fair share, that he owes her a break. This is her fate.

In more normal circumstances, the foster family and the adoptive parent would have no contact. Social services would handle the transition. Since those barriers are already broken in Emily’s case, the state allows the Lace’s and their son to accompany Emily as she’s turned over to Scully. The nondescript woman in the polo shirt joins them as a witness to the custody change, and so they all find themselves at Bill Jr.’s house--of all places--for one grievous goodbye and a destined hello.

Mrs. Lace passes Emily to Scully moments after the family walks through the door. Her red-rimmed eyes reveal the depth of her agony. 

“Take her,” she says. “I need to start letting go while she’s still in my sight.”

Scully bites her lip, feels Emily’s pudgy hand press into her shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Lace. I can’t imagine how hard this must be. I’ll make good on my promise to send pictures and updates, I swear.”

“Thank you, Dana.” She sighs. “It’ll be an adjustment.”

Her husband taps the head of the little boy by his knee. “This is Andrew, our son. He wanted to make sure Emily has the best life possible, so he made you a guide to her favorite things.”

The boy--no more than five--holds up a construction paper booklet with crayon drawings of him and baby Emily. How To Mak My Sister Smile, his stilted handwriting reads. Scully’s heart skips a beat as she accepts it from him. She kneels down so he’s level with her and Emily. 

“Thank you, Andrew. This is so sweet and I’ll be sure to read every bit of it and make sure your sister smiles every single day, okay?”

He nods, but tears cloud his vision. 

Scully turns Emily so that she’s perched on her knee, facing Andrew. “Tell me--what’s your favorite thing to do with your sister?” she asks him softly. 

He rubs his eyes and nose. “I like to show her my cars,” he stammers.

“Your cars? Wow!” Scully effuses. It’s not often that she gets to work on her kiddie voice, and she’ll need that now.

The color returns Andrew’s face. “Yeah, yeah, my race cars! I have a mat for them, and I push them around the track, and she watches. She likes the races. They make her laugh sometime.” 

“Wow! You sound like a great big brother.”

“Yeah, and I like her bouncy thing too,” he sputters. “It was mine before.”

“An activity jumper,” Mr. Lace clarifies. “From Fisher-Price.”

“Ahh.” Scully’s happy to get any insight she can into her daughter’s early life. The Lace’s offered to send some toys with Emily, but Scully will only accept a couple onesies and Emily’s beloved stuffed rabbit. She doesn’t want to take any more from them than she already is.

She adjusts Emily on her knee, looks to Andrew. “Do you wanna give your sister a hug?”

“Okay.” He moves bashfully toward her and wraps his arms around Emily. He holds on until Emily begins to fuss, then steps back like he’s been caught sneaking away from time out. 

“Emily’s lucky to have a big brother like you,” Scully tells him. “Your parents have my phone number, and you can call and talk to her whenever you want, okay? I know she can’t say much yet, but she’ll grow into it, and besides, she’ll recognize your voice.” Scully offers him a spirit-boosting smile. “Does that sound good?”

He nods, hands linked behind his back. Stranger shyness has taken over.

“Good. She’s gonna need her big brother to stick up for her.”

Scully stands up, clutching Emily to her chest. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Lace,” Scully addresses them, “it’s impossible for me to sum up how deeply, deeply grateful I am for you and your sacrifice. It is no exaggeration to say that you have saved my life. I can already tell that Emily is so lucky to have been raised by you--that you have done an incredible job--and I hope that the two of us will continue to be a part of you and your son’s lives as Emily grows up.”

Mrs. Lace dabs her cheeks with a tissue. Mr. Lace frowns at his wife’s pain. “That means a great deal to us, Dana,” he replies. 

“We feel blessed to have led Emily through her formative months,” his wife murmurs through her tear-strickenness. 

The man nods. “She’s a wonderful kid, and I’m sure some of that comes from you.”

Scully smiles tautly. “I could say the same of you. Thank you for giving her the start I was denied from providing her.”

“You’ll let us know if you need any help, won’t you?”

“Of course. I’ll have your number on speed dial by the end of the night.”

The Lace’s formal goodbye had taken place at home, they said, and dragging out their visit would only make matters worse. They leave Bill Jr.’s house after a few short minutes, advancing down the front steps like a funeral procession.

When the door shuts and Scully’s baby is in her arms, she realizes that this will be her life for the rest of her life. What joy--! What horror--!

----------------------------

The heater’s gentle sigh provides a generous rush of white noise as the girls settle for sleep. It’s the time of year when San Diego’s nightly temperatures start drifting away from perfection, when sleeping with the windows open no longer has such appeal. According to Bill, it’s not cold enough to turn on the heating system (surprise, surprise) so he pulled a dusty space heater from the closet for the “girl’s room” to share. Like a gentleman, Mulder took the couch (as if he had any other option), leaving Scully, Missy, and now Emily with the guest room. A family affair, one generation rounded out by another.

It’s a convenient arrangement, really. Bill doesn’t have a crib and it’s not worth buying one for a single night, so Emily will be sleeping on the bed like a grown-up. If Missy weren’t there as a physical barrier, Scully would be taking the chance that Emily might roll off the unattended side. Instead, the little girl’s mother and aunt will be an arm’s length away for her first sleep with her new family. A symbolic gesture of the protection they hope to provide for the rest of her life. 

It’s a wonder how smoothly the transition has gone. Emily hasn’t shed a single tear since the family she knew left her in this strange house. Then again, Scully has never seen her daughter cry; like her mother, she must not be prone to it. 

Tara served a ham for dinner while Scully spooned mashed carrots and peas into Emily’s mouth, her helicopter parenting beginning early. Mulder made some joke about gourmet baby food, and everybody laughed except Bill, and Scully felt that she finally understood what was meant by family--some who share your blood will never fit into it, but some who were once strangers will more than make up for that absence. 

And now, as Scully lowers her onesie-clad daughter onto the guest bed, there is peace. Terror, too, lingers in her mind, but it’s the unwarranted kind. She is the mother to a healthy baby girl. Yes, there will be challenges. Yes, a person loved separately from yourself is a person you could lose. But the summit has been reached; the worst did not happen, and now everything else pales in comparison. As far as Scully’s concerned, she can never be truly hurt again. Because if anything happens to Emily, well, this is what Scully asked for, and what gives her the right to complain? Beggars can’t be choosers, and she begged God for this...The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away. This happened in the opposite order for her, so she can only assume more loss is to come, and she will accept it. She will.

Scully slides beneath the comforter, snaking her arm out from under to rest a hand on the small of her baby’s back. A comfort very familiar to her, and one she will bequeath to her daughter. They have the bed to themselves for now. Missy is in the living room downing a beer with the boys and trying to compete with (or mediate?) their trash talk. In the past, a situation like this might worry Scully, but those old concerns look so small now. 

Only a few hours in, and she already feels much more at home with the title of mother, much more deserving of it. The first diaper she changed rivaled some of the operations she witnessed in med school, both in its gruesome nature and in requiring multiple pairs of hands. Mulder would help if Emily was a boy, he swore, but he claimed to be “out of his depth with her plumbing” as he put it. Missy quipped that you sure are and it made even Bill laugh and life was wonderfully rose-colored through Dana Scully’s eyes. 

She hopes for sweet dreams for herself, but much more so, for her daughter, and she is aware that this is how it will be for the rest of time. Having been half-asleep when she was put down, Emily lulls into even-breathed dozing before Scully can decide on a lullaby. No harm done; Scully’s vocal cords haven’t seen regular exercise since college karaoke, and she’d hate to disappoint so soon.

When she opens her eyes again (she hadn’t realized she closed them, but apparently she had), Emily is deep in sleep, her eyelids twitching to the rhythm of her unseen dreams. And Missy has joined them too, her mouth drooping like it did when the sisters shared a bed every Christmas Eve. Scully doesn’t know what time it is, and with such a picture perfect view in front of her, she won’t dare to roll over and check the bedside clock. How nice it is to exist beyond time’s constraints, even for a moment. 

Scully is as present, maybe, as she’s ever been. She’s touched by the past and the future, ironically giving her a heightened awareness of now. One side of her consciousness is borne back into childhood and the many nights she slept by her sister’s side--in this very city, in fact. The other sees a path of hope unfurling in front of it, finally. She wonders whether her happiness might multiply, like a drop of food coloring unleashed into water. Might Emily be the shield that she’s needed?...Maybe the loss she expects will not be what comes.

And what that could mean...she has meant, for a long time now, to plant Mulder firmly in her life. Partner is much too fleeting--the Bureau could close the X-Files tomorrow, and then they’d be nothing but ex-coworkers. They’ve established where they stand through silences that say more than words ever could. She loves him, he loves her, and my god, neither one wants to lose that. It’s only now that Scully is realizing that they haven’t--or she, rather, hasn’t--embraced what they have, and so there is nothing to lose, and very little to cherish. 

With all this change in her life, she thinks, why not add that to the list?

--------------------------------------

They fly back into DC on Emily’s first birthday. November 2nd. Or at least, that’s the date that was left on the note at the foster agency. Scully isn’t sure exactly what she was doing last November 2nd, but she wasn’t having a baby, that’s certain. It was around the time of Aubrey, Missouri and BJ and nightmares, she remembers that. Plus, the phantom pregnancy, and the fear. The universe has a way of echoing itself.

They’re off to Mama Scully’s as soon as they make it off the tarmac. She’s aching to see her granddaughter, as she let Dana and Melissa know through a barrage of phone calls. I even made cupcakes and bought decorations for a warm welcome home! she insisted. Neither one of them can remember their mother being this excited about anything since...honestly? Ever. And they can’t blame her; Emily is the greatest thing that’s ever happened to their family. If only their father were here to meet her.

This is the sorrow that Scully has not had time to pick at. Her hero, her role model, the blueprint for all she wants Emily to be, not around to see it happen. She can’t think further than that; it’s the loose string that would unravel the sweater.

Mama Scully opens the door before they make it up the front steps, armed with yellow balloons and a party hat for the birthday girl. What a way to meet your grandmother. 

“Hello dear!” It’s unclear whether she’s referring to Emily, one of her daughters, or the three as a unit. “Look at you…” she cups her hands around Emily’s head, and now they’re pretty sure who she’s referring to. “You’re like a little princess!”

Scully smirks. She’s glad to witness her mother’s happiness, of course, but they’ve just finished five hours of travelling with a baby. “Mom, please, could you save the theatrics for inside?”

“Oh, I have a whole other set of theatrics planned there,” Mama Scully quips. She clears the way, ushers the group into the house. 

She touches Mulder’s shoulder as he passes. “Fox! I almost didn’t see you there.”

“Well, I can’t compete with Emily, so I don’t blame you.”

“She is precious, isn’t she?” Mrs. Scully gazes toward the doorway that Scully and Emily have since deserted. “There’s a place for you in Emily’s future, you know.”

Mulder shoves his hands in his pockets. “Oh.” He doesn’t know what else to say to that, and besides, it should be up to Scully.

“Unless there’s another woman in your life…?”

“No, no, I just--” he chuckles. “I didn’t expect that.”

Mama Scully lays a hand on his arm. “I care about you, Fox. Your well-being is deeply connected with my daughter’s.”

“Yes, of course…” He really, really would like to go in now. 

“And it’s important to me that she has a strong support system throughout this ordeal. Raising a child is a tremendous challenge, and I don’t want her to feel that the burden is hers alone.”

“I completely agree.”

“That’s why you should adopt Emily, too. Give her the gift of a father.”

Mulder’s brain short-circuits. “I--what? Mrs. Scully, I don’t know--”

She puts a hand on his back and leads him inside. “Think about it. You and Dana, forming a family for this child that needs one. It would be a little untraditional, of course, but the wedding could come in due time, no need to rush.”

Mulder’s head is spinning. This is a practical joke, right? The hidden cameras can feel free to reveal themselves any time now. 

The pair stops in the front hallway, a safe distance from everyone else in the kitchen. Mulder tries to mold his thoughts into cohesive sentences.

“Mrs. Scully, your intentions are good, but I think this solution is a bit extreme. I’m more than happy to help with Emily as much as possible, but becoming her father would just make things more complicated for all involved. And trust me, even if I were onboard, there’s no way Dana would go for it.”

Mama Scully nods. “I anticipated that. I’m going to talk with her tonight, straighten things out.”

Mulder does an awkward side-to-side shuffle. “If there’s one thing I know about her, it’s that her mind is not easily changed.” 

“Yes, well, I doubt this is something Dana has given much thought to. I’m hoping to get my argument across before she takes sides.”

“Mmm.” Mulder looks off toward the kitchen, where he would like to be. 

“I’ll let Dana know that we’ve discussed my proposition,” Mama Scully continues, “and then you two can talk it over, alright? I don’t mean to force you into anything. It just feels like a logical step. I’m sure you’d agree that your relationship is deeper than that of many married couples.”

“Sure, but it’s very different too,” Mulder mutters. This is not a topic to delve into with his partner’s mother, of all people. “I don’t know that they can be compared.”

“Perhaps you should consider it.” 

Mrs. Scully holds her hardened glance for a long second, and Mulder is the one who breaks. He scoots out of her direct line of sight, then gestures for her to go before him into the kitchen. “Shall we?”

------------------------------

They celebrate Emily’s 365th day around the sun like they’ve been by her side for every one of them. Before the crew arrived, Mama Scully whipped up vanilla cupcakes with chocolate frosting and rainbow sprinkles, or as she put it, “a little bit of everything since I don’t know what she likes.” She even bought a happy birthday banner and sharpied in Emily’s name--not to mention five birthday hats and a humongous 1 candle that a single cupcake can barely hold up. 

It’s a testament to Emily’s character that she’s so unbothered by it all. She lets Mama Scully slip the hat into place, shows no visible distress to the admiration she receives from the room. She prefers her mother’s arms over anyone else’s--they are, after all, the most familiar of the unfamiliar--but she’s content anywhere that welcomes her. And this is a place where she is most welcome.

Scully reminds herself to capture these little moments in her mind...Emily’s effervescent giggle as Missy tickles the bottoms of her feet,  Mulder helping Mama Scully add extra sprinkles to each cupcake, the warm hug of a family’s company. Love, love, there is so much love here. 

The time comes for cake and singing and blown-out candles. Well, candle in this case. Mulder performs the honor of lighting said candle as everyone gathers around, Emily nestled in her mother’s arms. 

“Ready?” Mulder inquires. He conducts in time with his countdown. “One, two, one, two, three…”

The rendition is not in tune on anyone’s part (though Missy is the closest), but at least their intentions are harmonious. Scully’s heart swells. Mulder and Missy throw in a zany “and many more!” for the cherry on top of a joyous moment. Scully mourns its end; the birthday song is much too brief.

“Make a wish!” Missy chirps, and Scully leans forward and blows out the flame for her daughter. Safety, happiness, love...these are the things she asks for. These are the things that everyone deserves. 

Scully’s not surprised when her mother pulls her aside a few minutes later and leads her to the library, leaving Emily at Missy and Mulder’s mercy. Her mother is fond of sentimental speeches, but not brave enough for an audience. Scully steels herself for a mushy-gushy outpouring. 

Mama Scully shuts the door, turns to her daughter. “I’m overflowing with joy. Aren’t you?”

“Yes, mom,” Scully answers, tiresome already. “I’m a bit afraid this is all a dream that I’ll wake up from at any moment.”

“Pinch yourself. You’ll see that it’s not, I promise.”

Scully pinches her bicep, more for her mother’s amusement than anything. This is, in fact, reality.

“You must be very overwhelmed, I imagine,” Mrs. Scully remarks, beginning to pace. Scully follows with her eyes. 

“There is a lot that I haven’t sorted out yet, yes,” Scully replies, her suspicion about her mother’s intentions growing. “Work, for example. I only have one more day off, and then I have to explain everything to Skinner, and hopefully I’ll qualify for maternity leave. But the Bureau isn’t very good about that, it’s only two weeks.”

“Just remember that I’m always available to babysit Emily if you need it.”

“I know, mom.”

Mama Scully allows herself to get side-tracked for a moment. “You have a crib though? And diapers, and a high chair?”

Scully nods. “Required for the home study.”

“Good.” Mama Scully sweeps back a wayward piece of her daughter’s hair. “I don’t ever want you to feel like you’re all alone in this.”

Her mother’s soft gaze unearths a sudden swell of emotion; tears prick at the back of Scully’s eyes. “I know, mom.”

“And I know that you’re gonna say you are Emily’s only legal guardian, and so you are technically alone, but you know what? You don’t have to be,” Mama Scully asserts. “There is someone out there who is willing to fill that void for you.”

Scully rolls her eyes, her brief emotional trance broken. “Don’t tell me you're gonna set me up with the Prizatskys’ son again.”

“Oh no,” Mrs. Scully laughs. “Besides, he’s engaged now.”

“Oh.” Scully tries to miss the patronization in her mother’s voice. 

“What I’m saying is,” Mrs. Scully continues, “there is a man in your life who is loyal, trustworthy, hard-working, and in the perfect position to provide for you and Emily.”

“If you’re referring to Mulder,” Scully starts, an eyebrow raised, “I’m not exactly planning to shun him anytime soon.”

“Yes, but have you ever truly let him in?”

Mrs. Scully has aimed her arrow and hit her target, a stunning blow. The most damning parts of Scully’s inner dialogue have just been echoed back at her. 

Wounded, she swallows hard. “That’s really none of your business. And just because he’s in my life doesn’t mean that he magically fills the role of Emily’s father. How would that even work? Emily would have to be shuttled back and forth...She’d be split between one parent and the other...It would make her life more hectic.”

“Dana, Dana…” Mama Scully pulls her daughter close, recognizing that she’s struck a nerve. Scully stiffens into the hug. “Remember when you were little, and your father would be gone on long deployments, and you’d draw pictures of him in his uniform, and tell your class about how your father was a Navy captain, and you were so proud? You barely had a sense of what that meant, but you knew he was doing something important.”

Scully relaxes into their embrace. “And when I missed him the worst, you’d let me wear his old sailor hat.”

“Yes.” Mama Scully takes a hearty breath. “I was there every day, feeding you, bathing you, sending you off to school...and you loved me, I don’t doubt that, but I wasn’t the one who put stars in your eyes.”

Scully nods against her mother’s shoulder. Damn, if she isn’t winding her way toward a convincing point.

“Emily’s gonna love you whatever you choose. But the fuller her life is--the more love she’s surrounded by--the more she’ll have to give, and the brighter her light will shine.”

Scully sniffles, shaken by the truth of this. God, to know as much love as she’s known in her life and resist it still. That’s not the way a life is meant to be lived.

“Thank you, mom,” she whispers in her mother’s ear. It’s an imprecise affirmation--encompassing everything and yet a specific something that she can no longer reject. 

Scully pulls away, smiles at her mom. “No more meddling, okay? I’ll sort this out for myself.”

Mama Scully laughs. “You just needed that push. Now that the ball’s rolling, I’ll leave it alone.”

“You’d better,” Scully teases. She gestures toward the door. “I should get back to my baby.”

“Yes,” Mama Scully grins, “you should.”

-------------------------------

The knock on the door comes at a quarter to noon, as Scully expected. She didn’t expect that she’d be scrubbing grape juice off the tile when it happened, but hey, these are the disruptions everyone in her life will have to get used to. Including--especially--her. 

“I’ll get it!” Missy’s voice breezes through the apartment. 

A moment later, Scully finds herself level with a pair of black dress shoes. Big ones. A twelve if she had to guess.

“Scully, if you wanna know my shoe size, just ask,” Mulder jests, and has he read her mind? She feels like she’s been caught in a compromising act, though she’s done nothing but wipe up a sticky purple mess. She cranes her neck, looks up at him.

“Good morning, Mulder,” she mumbles, running her hand over the spill area. Coming up clean, she finds her footing. The top of her head is even with her partner’s collarbone. 

Scully thumbs toward Emily, who is gobbling cheese crackers in her high chair without a care in the world. “Apparently she doesn’t like grape juice.”

“Grape juice?” Mulder jeers. “She knows orange juice is where it’s at.”

Scully ignores him, but makes a mental note to add OJ to the grocery list. And apple too, just to be safe.

“Let me get my shoes and I’ll be ready to go,” she says, shuffling off in her pantyhose without waiting for a response. 

They have a lunchtime meeting with Skinner to explain...well, everything. Mulder doesn’t need to be there--as his partner was quick to remind him--but he insists on advocating for her. No amount of I’m not a damsel in distress, Mulder will put him off. She’s so much more than that, he knows. Hence why he’s got to do all he can so her life isn’t defined by its crises. Besides, he’ll take any excuse to sneak down to the office on his day off.

He told Scully he’d pick her up because it’d be easier on her, sure, but also because he has an important delivery to make. He nods to Missy, and she grabs the goods off the front table. He wanted to make his entrance before the big moment. His presence known, he’s ready to go.

“Emily, Uncle Mulder brought something for you!” Missy sing-songs as she places the gifts in Mulder’s hidden hands. The girl looks up, her attention easily diverted here and there. 

Mulder tries to tip-toe forward--hands behind his back--without coming off as creepy, which is harder than it seems. He takes it as a good sign that Emily doesn’t spook and wonders what it means that Missy called him Uncle Mulder. Did she and Scully have a conversation about it? Is this what he’ll be known as? Or was that just a last minute reach to fill the space? 

He pushes these thoughts away, focuses on the blue-eyed girl in front of him. 

“Emily,” he begins, and it rolls off his tongue like a devotion, “I thought your bunny might like some friends.”

He reveals the fox first, then the UFO. His personal mark on Emily’s budding stuffed animal collection. She lets out a peep of astonishment and reaches for the fox, fascinated with its bushy tail. She hits it back and forth so it wags like a dog’s.

Mulder chuckles, his brain lighting up in places it never has before. Missy hangs back and waits for her sister to reemerge. Sure enough, Scully melts at the sight, stopping short so she doesn’t interrupt it. She clutches her heart. She and Missy share a smile.

“My, my, look at this,” Scully saunters in, ruffles Emily’s hair. “Do you know what this is, Em?” she asks, patting the fox. “This is a fox.”  She points to Mulder. “And this is a Fox, too!” 

Emily doesn’t get the joke, but that’s okay. 

“And do you know what this is?” Mulder prompts, picking up the flying saucer. He moves it through the air like it’s flying. Emily reaches for it, and god, Mulder knows the feeling.

“This is a UFO, Emily,” Mulder tells her sweetly. “Aliens!”

“No, no.” Scully plucks the UFO from his hand. “No aliens, Em.” 

She lays the saucer on the high chair tray. “Mama’s gotta go away for a little bit, but I’ll be back soon.” She kisses Em’s temple. “Auntie Missy will be right here.”

Missy steps forward. “We can play with Mr. Fox and the al--” Scully shoots her a look. ”The UFO!” she corrects, winking at Mulder. She scoops her niece out of the high chair. “Say ‘bye Mama!’”

Emily doesn’t have that grasp on words yet, and they all know it, but Missy gets her to wave. “Okay, now ‘bye Uncle Mulder!’” Another wave. Smiles all around.

Mulder and Scully move reluctantly toward the door. Scully groans as Missy and the baby girl slip from her view. 

“They’ll be okay,” Mulder assures his partner.

“I know,” Scully sighs, “but will I?”

Mulder rests his hand in the familiar spot on her back as they exit her apartment. “Absolutely. Skinner will grant you the leave, and you’ll be back with your baby in no time.”

She nods, bites her lip, and slows, suddenly wistful. Mulder stops, turns to her. “Scully…?”

“Mulder, did my mom have a conversation with you?”

He nods. 

“And...did you think it was kind of crazy too?”

He nods again.

She takes a breath and rises to her tip-toes. She could pretend not to know what she’s doing, but she does. Oh, she does. 

“But not out of the realm of extreme possibility…?” she coos, eyes centered on his lips. 

Mulder smiles shyly. He always expected it would be this way: Scully the coquette to his boyish ineptitude. Who knew she’d be stealing his lines.

His hands find her waist, pulling her closer there in the hallway. “No, no,” he muses, “I think it’s pretty solidly in the realm…” He nuzzles her neck, breathes in her sweet smell, and nibbles her ear, all in the beat of a hummingbird’s wing. “...of extreme possibility,” he purrs into her ear, satisfied with himself. 

It reminds Scully of do you believe in the existence of  ~extraterrestrials~ and how she knew then that he was a little bit unhinged, whip-snap smart, and too goddamn charming for his own good. That either fate or her own unconquerable desire would bring them together. She knows now that fate conspired to keep them apart. What’s unfolding is neither an act of its hand nor a last-ditch effort of a dead-end life. It is one choice among many, undertaken out of sheer belief in the happiness it could bring.

She looks into his eyes, which look back at her with a caramel-drizzle melt. Yes, yes, this is right. She fans a hand out on his cheek, runs her thumb over his mole. She has always wanted to touch it, but could never come up with a good excuse. 

They’ve delayed the inevitable long enough. Scully leans in, still on her tip-toes, and Mulder bends to close the distance. Their lips meet, and there’s no fireworks. No, it’s simple serenity. Like coming home after a long time away--though this is a house they have never walked into until now, they have a feeling they will be walking into it for the rest of their lives.

And then Scully pulls away, and it’s over but it’s just beginning.

[aloysiavirgata]

Hot prompt: Mulder washes Scully's back.

And also for @fashionbooksboozefeminism who asked about 40th birthdays on the run. NSFW

***

Night, cash, Sonia and James. Mulder leads her down the faded carpet and wood-paneled halls of the old Poconos resort, nearly empty nine days past Valentine’s. Everything they own that isn’t in their bag is in the car outside. They stop in front of room 314.

Scully, a bobbed brunette in yoga pants and a hoodie, slouches against the wall. “If this turns out to be a reboot of The Shining, Mulder, I’m going to be really pissed.”

He works the key into the scuffed lock. “The Haunted Murder package wasn’t in my budget, don’t worry.”

They head inside, Mulder shutting the door behind them. The room is a perfectly preserved 70’s time capsule, amber-hued with shag carpet and velour club chairs. There’s a zigzag bedspread and a macramé plant hanger with a dusty silk fern on it.

“Groovy.” Mulder sets their duffel on the floor.

“Wow,” Scully says, peering around. Her mother would have killed for this room back when she hosted fondue parties and wore hostess pajamas. “Mulder, I feel like I’m in high school again. I’m going to need some blue eyeshadow, then we can play a few rounds of Mystery Date.”

Mulder examines a small porcelain shepherdess on the lamp stand. “Forty is the new sixteen. Go look around the corner.”

Scully picks her way past the walnut dresser and a floral folding screen. A yelp of laughter escapes her. “Mulder!”

The tub is glossy and red, heart shaped, with veined mirrored walls behind. It’s piled with bubbles, steam rising from the surface. A bottle of something called Sham-Pagne sits on the tiled rim. Her chest squeezes at the thought of him putting this together. She’s been remote since the New Year, prickly and self-contained as a spore.

He appears behind her, grinning. “James. Only the classiest for you, Sonia.”

She sits on the ledge, pats the bubbles with curious fingers. “Champagne glasses would have been classy, James.”

Mulder studies the bottle. “It’s got a screw top, so I think this is more a red Solo cup affair. Or straight from the bottle.“

Their joys are very small these days and she clings to them. “It’s absolutely awful, I love it.”

Mulder, beaming, squeezes her shoulder. “Go ahead and get in, I wanted it all ready for you so you could relax right off the bat.”

Scully stands, her back to the large mirrors. She undresses quickly, trying not to catch her reflection in the small mirror over the sink. She doesn’t want to see her choppy dark hair, the purple smudges under her eyes, her sallow skin and WalMart lingerie. A year and nine months and each glance at her reflection feels like watching a Dana who dropped out of med school to follow a band or wait tables at a truck stop. But she can’t tell her not to do it, she can’t wish it all away, it’s just... she is not suited for life in the bardo.

She climbs over the wide ledge, into one of the curves of the heart, and lowers herself into the bath. The steaming water is decadent after so many cramped showers, and this immersion feels baptismal. Perhaps she can come out fully cleansed, grocery store dye gone, Aphrodite on a bed of foam. The bubbles come up past her chin, making her sneeze. 

Mulder sits next to her, opening the wine. “Oh, whoa, whoa, she's a lady,” he sings, holding the bottle like a microphone.

Scully scowls at him from the tub. “No need for that, thank you.”

“Tom Jones, Scully!”

She puffs bubbles at him, and they stick to his shirt. “Do you have any cups?”

“I was serious about the bottle, I think.” He passes it to her.

She takes a long swig. It’s sickly sweet and too fizzy. She could easily finish it herself. “Get in.”

He looks surprised. “Really?”

“It’s my birthday, you have to do what I say.” Another swallow.

He’s already undressing. “No, no, I don’t mind. I just figured you’d want to marinate alone.”

Mulder, never self conscious, has no concerns about the mirrors. He gets in the other bend of the heart and water overflows onto the carpet. “Oops.”

Scully, already buzzy, passes him the wine.

He takes a long drink, winces. “Good lord.”

“Mm,” she agrees, settling low in the water. It seeps up her chin length hair, making a sleek dark cap around her face.

Mulder puts the bottle down and fishes around in a wicker basket. He retrieves a pink pouf and a tiny bottle of cherry blossom body wash. “Scoot over here.”

She hunches into the corner. “No I’m comfable. ComFORTable.”

Mulder laughs. “How hard did you hit that bottle?” He reaches around to take her by the shoulders and pull her through the water until she’s settled between his knees like a cranky mermaid. He squeezes a pearly dollop of soap on the pouf and begins to wash her back.

“This is soapy water already,” she observes.

“Well, it so happens I just like touching you, so don’t be pedantic.”

She lets her head fall forward as he makes circles on her back, tries not to feel embarrassed about her bony spine and the furrowed landscape of her ribs. She hasn’t been this thin since the cancer hollowed her out, and she never let him see her this way back then.

Back then.

“Got you a little cake, it’s in the fridge,” Mulder says, like he can read her thoughts again.

“Maybe I’ll save you a piece,” she replies. She wants to be cheery for him, a brave little sailor. The body wash makes her think of spring in DC and she sniffs at it.

He drops the pouf to massage her slick skin with his hands. They’re a little calloused now from the kind of rough work he was never bred for. He works his thumbs beneath her scapulae and she wonders if he can unfurl them like wings, let her fly away.

She takes another gulp of wine. “Mulder.”

“Hmm?” His fingers knead her neck, each tight trapezius.

Scully turns in the water to face him, catches a flash of her reflection as she does. Her hair is kelpy, the heavy black eyeliner she wears now smudged about her eyes like Theda Bara.

She kneels between his bent knees. “Nothing.”

Mulder sighs. “I didn’t want it like this either.” He holds his arms out and she rests against his chest. The water sloshes gently around them as he enfolds her, his heart thrumming at her cheek. She imagines this is what the last moments in the womb are like.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles into the wet dark of his body. “This is a really good present.”

His hands are skating over her back again with a washcloth this time. The texture feels good, centering her back into her bones. Sometimes she feels adrift from herself, dissociated, following her own body like a kite.

Mulder strokes her hair and she burrows her face up into his neck, her forearms pressed against his chest. She hopes he won’t sing Happy Birthday like he used to because it will undo her.

He doesn’t, just nuzzles in, whispering sweet nonsense into her ear. “I love you,” he says, in a voice like hot tea on a cold morning. He nibbles her unadorned earlobe.

Scully, who hasn’t wanted sex in over a month (or has it been two?), who has barely wanted to be touched, feels her body stirring. She turns her head, her earlobe chilled, and catches his lips with her own. She tugs at his longish hair, wanting to absorb him and his infinite love and his careworn soul. She nips his tongue.

His response against her thigh is instant and, bless him, he apologizes like a teenager on prom night. All this time and he’s still such a gentleman it might break her heart.

She pulls back, takes his face in her hands. How she loves his face, his autumn woods eyes and his mouth like a Botticelli angel. “Look at me,” she says.

He does, worry in his gaze. “Scully, it’s fine, I know y-“

“Shut up,” she says, with aching fondness. “Please shut up.” She thumbs his bottom lip.

He furrows his brow, uncertain.

Scully lets her legs float up off the bottom of the tub, twists so that she’s straddling his lap, her arms about his neck. “It’s my birthday. You have to do what I say.”

He swallows, still watching her. “As you wish.”

Scully tips her hips forward and he’s inside her, hot and hard and familiar.

Mulder’s eyes close and he murmurs some wordless hindbrain prayer.

There’s almost no leverage, but he’s holding her hips as she rotates them, groaning when she tightens her pelvic floor. She’s wrapped in warmth from the inside out, liquid heat, her breasts crushed to his chest. Water splashes to the floor.

Mulder slides his hands up so that his thumbs are at her waist, his fingers spanning her back. She sighs and leans into the brace of him, her chin tipped up.

He takes her left nipple into his mouth and her shoulders roll back, hands trailing in the water. She exhales hard through her nose. A memory comes to her, Mulder in the tub in Rhode Island, and she recalls even then the fierceness of the unnameable thing she felt for him. Love is such an inadequate word for this.

He’s slowly taken over their rhythm now, pulling her down harder, and she falls away into the dopamine surge. Panting now, belly dipping and rising. Tingling at her sacral spine.

Scully groans in disappointment when he turns his head from her breast. Her areola contracts in the cold, and Mulder runs a hand from her throat to the hot junction of their bodies. She is not long disappointed.

She sees then that he’s looking at the mirror wall, watching, and she’s afraid to do the same but cannot help her curiosity.

Her arched body is a full sail, held up by the mast of Mulder’s arm, rising and falling on an unquiet sea. Even with the glass veined and fogged she sees the slackness of desire in her mouth, her dilated eyes.

In the mirror, Mulder’s eyes are on hers, the face of a mystic in ecstasy. In the mirror she watches his jaw clench and his head roll back. Watches him grind his hips up into hers. He calls out to her god.

She’s dazed, visually overloaded. Scully leans forward to his neck again, biting at it as his fingers continue their steady work between her thighs. The hand that was on her back is on her ass now, and gripping hard.

“You liked watching,” he says at her temple and it isn’t a question, just an observation, but somehow the intimacy of him knowing it trips her over the edge. She’s lightning-struck after so long, her nerves overfiring, and she shudders back into his arms, gulping air.

He traces endless figure eights on her back, or maybe they’re infinity signs. He tells her about a raccoon he saw in the bakery parking lot, eating an entire raisin bread by itself. “It hissed at me when I got out of the car, Scully, and I don’t even like raisins.”

“You’re so brave,” she says. “Just to get my cake.”

“I’d fight a raccoon for you any day.”

When the water gets cold they emerge, ectoplasmic wafts of bubbles trailing behind them to the bed. They can shower later.

Scully, chilly now, wraps herself in the bedspread. She sits cross-legged on the bed like a wise old oracle. “Where’s my cake, please?”

Mulder opens the mini fridge and removes a perfect miniature birthday cake, sprinkles and fudge frosting and a vivid maraschino cherry. She might not save him a piece after all.

He brings her the cake and two plastic forks. A small white box.

“Mulder!” she exclaims. “I thought this was my present, I hope you didn’t really get me anything else.”

He sits next to her on the bed and rubs her back through the heavy comforter. Clears his throat. “It’s, um, it’s not from me, actually. I didn’t just run into a raccoon at the bakery.”

She looks at him in utter bewilderment. “What are you talking about?”

“Open it.”

A strange fear creeps over her as she fumbles with the tape holding the lid on the box. Her fingers are clumsy, numb, but she gets it off at last. Inside is a cheap cell phone, a burner. There’s a Post-It stuck to the front.

“Many happy returns of the day, Scully.

- Walter Skinner”

[slippinmickeys]

The Earl (4/13)

If you would like to read this on AO3, you may do so here. 

CHAPTER FOUR

“It should not be far now,” Mulder sighed from beside her.

He had his head bent down to look out the window of the coach, rain beading down the glass on the other side. The whole of the day had been dreary, and they had each been fitfully dozing for the last several hours, sitting opposite each other.

“Are you comfortable?” he asked her.

In truth, she was not. Stiff and tired and in dire need of a bath, she wanted nothing more than to never see the inside of another carriage.

“Of course,” she said instead.

The coach was beautifully appointed — one of the finest she had ever traveled in. Plush velveteen seats and a rich lacquered interior, it was obvious that Mulder had spared no expense.

She moved from her bench to sit next to him, peering out the window herself, jostling into him  as the wheels of the coach hit a rut in the road.

In the carriage behind them rode Prudence and Mr. Valadeo along with their luggage. Two of their grooms, Peter and Terrence, rode behind with their personal horses (Mulder’s stallion Hercule, whom he entrusted to no one but Terrence, and her wedding gift, a beautiful silver mare named Queen). Their newest footman Alexander sat up with the driver as added security against brigands. What a sight we must make, she thought.

As a child and the daughter of a marquess, she had traveled with an even bigger entourage between London and their country estate, but as the years passed and their fortune dwindled, she had grown accustomed to traveling with less and less, eventually journeying by the mail coach when she went to Town at all.

“I think you will like Miss Modeski, John’s fiancée,” he said. “She is almost as well-read as yourself.”

She smiled at him, and he leaned in to kiss her, chaste at first, but lingering, as though he had other plans. She pulled back when the coach turned onto a gravel-lined lane.

“For a man who claims that his reputation is unearned, you kiss like an unrepentant rake, sir,” she said.

He grinned at her.

“You grin like one, too.”

“And what experience do you have of rakes, Lady Dana?” he asked, strumming his thumb along her cheek.

“It’s rumored that I married one.”

“Your wit is as sharp as your teeth,” he said complimentary.

“You would know,” she said cheekily, and he ran his hand once over his left pectoral, where Scully had placed a love bite only that morning.

He shook his head at her, a little in awe, and then glanced once again out the window. “We’re here,” he said.

She dipped her head to look out the window once more. The granite facade of the manse was almost silver in the grey, overcast light of the late afternoon. It must have had nearly a dozen large windows just on this side of the estate alone.

“I thought you said Sir Byers had a small estate,” she said.

Mulder shrugged.

“Your father is a marquess,” he said, simply “I would imagine his entitled estates are vast.”

They were, though they had fallen into disrepair when the funds to keep them dwindled. Perhaps now they could be restored to their previous grandeur.

“Nevertheless, I’m not a little intimidated to be the mistress of Henwick Priory if you consider this to be a small estate.”

He grabbed her hand and kissed it.

“I have no doubt you will excel at it, and that it will be the very least of your talents.”

The carriage pulled to a halt in front of the large french doors and she heard the footman Alexander jump down onto the shell drive. A moment later the carriage door opened and he extended his white gloved hand to help her out.

An average-sized gentleman with an average face came walking out the door of the estate, a pretty blond woman following him only a step or two behind. The man had kind eyes, brown hair and a short cinnamon colored beard.

“Byers!” said Mulder from beside her, and the two men clapped one another on the back.

“So good to see you! Suzanne, you do remember Lord William Reynard Mulder, the Ninth Earl of Wexford?” the man said, turning from his friend and smiling.

Mulder cut him a look while Suzanne dropped into a low curtsy. “Of course I do. Lord Wexford, it is so good to see you again.”

“One last bit of formality before we drop all pretense of it, I hope?” Mulder said, his eyebrows up. Sir Byers and Mulder both turned to Scully.

“May I present my bride, Lady Dana, the Countess of Wexford,” he said, and Sir Byers bowed at her.

“Enchanted, my lady,” he said, then paused for a moment before turning to the woman who had been standing next to him.

“And may I present Miss Suzanne Modeski, my betrothed,” Sir Byers said, and the lady next to him once again lowered herself into a dignified curtsy. When she stood up straight, she smiled at Scully and threaded her hand through Scully’s arm, leading her up the steps and into a modest foyer.

“I was thrilled when I learned Lord Wexford would be bringing a wife with him on holiday,” she said sweetly into Scully’s ear. “My betrothed is a wonderful man, but his associates are all men, and while I’ve been looking forward to hosting this sporting holiday, I daresay I was near to dreading the lack of female company.”

Scully smiled at her as the gentlemen came up behind them and closed the door on the bustle of servants outside unloading the carriages.

“John’s housekeeper won’t forgive me for the impropriety, but I do hope you’ll let me personally see you to your chambers. They’re the best in the estate,” Miss Modeski said proudly.

Scully demurred and Miss Modeski led her, arm-in-arm, up a grand staircase toward the rear of the manse. Mulder and Sir Byers followed behind, murmuring to each other all the while.

Miss Modeski stopped in front of a large oak door at the end of the hall and waited for Mulder and Sir Byers to draw even with them before she opened the door and swept into the room, letting the rest follow her.

The room wasn’t overly large, but was beautifully appointed, with two large windows that looked out over the garden and hills spreading off into the distance in the back of the estate.

“What an absolutely stunning view,” Scully said, turning to smile sweetly at Sir Byers who had moved to Miss Modeski’s side and was standing quite proudly.

“Capital,” Mulder said, “Just capital. It will be a fortnight to remember.”

Sir Byers and Suzanne turned and left them to give them some time to freshen up and rest from the journey. They found themselves alone in quiet peace for the first time in hours. Mulder stepped up to Scully and rubbed his hands up and down her arms, and then leaned in to give her a sweet kiss on the forehead.

“Felicitations on the start of your honeymoon, Lady Wexford,” he said quietly.

Scully smiled into his touch.

“And yours, Lord Wexford.”

“Whatever will we do to fill the time?” he asked.

“Oh,” Scully said, “we’ll think of something.”

XxXxXxXxXxX

Later, when they had come downstairs to join the rest of the party in the drawing room, Mulder was surprised and pleased to find that Sir Byers had invited his business associates to join the holiday as well. The men, both bachelors, he had met on several occasions before, and while he found them a bit odd, had liked them immensely. One of them, Mr. Frohike, was currently holding court with Scully, and seemed to be as smitten with his new wife as Mulder was himself.

“It’s a small publishing firm,” Frohike said, staring at Scully intently.

Mr. Langly, the third of the triumvirate, was leaning against the fireplace mantle, looking  bored.

“Oh, how interesting,” Scully said politely. Mulder wondered how long she’d give the little man, who wore a garish pinstriped suit with a bold blue ascot.

“Indeed,” Frohike went on.

"And what do you publish?" Scully asked him.

At this Frohike exchanged a look with his other two associates -- a look that Suzanne caught -- she let out a peal of laughter. "What don't they publish?!" she laughed. At this, she leaned into Byers side and hugged him affectionately. He smiled back at her.

"Investigative journalism," Langly said from the mantle.

"Now there's a term that'll never catch on," muttered a gentleman who was taking a turn about the room with his female companion.

Mulder sought out his wife's gaze and found himself falling into their blue depths. Poor Mr. Frohike, Mulder thought, he never stood a chance.

“I find it refreshing hearing many different viewpoints,” Mulder said, if only to be a contrarian to the turning gentleman.

“Hear, hear,” from Suzanne.

“I am not used to hearing such things from a peer of the realm, Lord Wexford,” said Langly.

“Perhaps the love of a good woman has changed me.”

Scully watched him, intent.

“Were you so heartless before marriage, Lord Wexford?” asked Suzanne.

“Nay, but I am heartless, now,” he said. “You see, my heart walks outside my body, just there,” he gestured to Scully. “It flits about with ginger hair and Cupid's Bow lips and it spouts scientific facts as though it were an encyclopædia.”

One of the women flapped out her fan and began using it.

Scully caught his eye and her tongue darted out to wet her aforementioned lips.

“It must be inconvenient, going about your day with your heart engaged in other ventures,” said another seated gentleman — a Mr. Green, if Mulder’s memory served.

“Ah,” said Mulder, “but you see, it always returns to me at night.”

Mulder smiled at the shocked intake of breath from Mr. Green’s wife, and walked to the sideboard to pour himself a brandy. He could feel Scully’s eyes on him all the while.

XxX

A few days pass ed, filled with hunts and picnics and lazy strolls around the ornamental lake, Mulder and Scully frequently breaking off to murmur sweet nothings out of earshot of the rest of the party. There was breakfast in the library, rumours of a minor spat between the blended retinue below stairs, and a handsy rendezvous between the new Lord and Lady Wexford in the mock gothic folly at the far end of the grounds. The bed was spacious and soft, and the honeymooning couple made excellent and copious use of their time together. Scully sent postcards home complimenting the food and the company, and Mulder was delighted for his friends to get to know his new bride. The game was plentiful and the weather was fine. It was an enchanting time.

Mulder should have known… that was usually the part of the fairytale when the hero had to earn his happy ending.

[starbuck09256]

Slanted Pool Tables

The X-Files 

Pre Season One AU

MSR tagging @today-in-fic

Fictober day 16

What if she met him before, on one of those birthdays she shared with Jack. At that bar with the slanted pool table, what if Mulder knew of her. How could they have met. 

He sits at the seedy bar, watching a pretty redhead take down a slightly older gentleman that is far too unattractive for her at the pool table. She smiles softly and even in the dim light her blue eyes dazzle him a bit. He’s seen her before he thinks, when he had to present at Quantico a few months ago.  That’s it, she was the pathologist who cracked open his case, she found that key piece that was missing from his profile. Now that he thinks about it her counterpart is also from Quantico Mulder isn’t sure what department he is in though. Scully that’s all he remembers from the autopsy report D, Scully. Fuck he thinks looking down at his celebratory glass of bourbon. Beautiful and brilliant, a deadly combo for him. The ease with which Scully and Willis, that’s right Jack Willis, move about the table as she sips on a beer. It is clear they have dated though aren’t now. If it’s any judgement by the other woman who is clearly friends with Scully, but has also been grabbing Jacks arm throughout the night.  He hears her soft chuckle, and tries to look away but she sees him gazing at her and she starts to walk towards him. He hears Jack yell 

“You can’t buy drinks on your birthday!” he calls as the taller busty blonde kisses his lips. 

Scully shakes her head. 

“There for your birthday, or aren’t you keeping up?” she jiggles the bottle in the air. 

Jack laughs kissing the busty blonde a bit. Scully stands right next to him; she is tiny, for far away he thought she was taller or maybe it was him projecting the way her intelligence flew off the page at him. He had requested her to do a few other autopsies in the past but they had never met. He sent her flowers once too, just as a thank you with his number to discuss some of her more unique findings. She never called, but he also never expected her too. He doesn’t know what to say now that she is next to him in a soft blue sweater and black pants and cute little heels that don’t seem at all practical for someone who stands over dead bodies all day. She licks her lips and he swirls his drink, letting the ice water it down a bit, it tastes better that way. 

Jerry comes up behind hijm smacking him on the back.

“That was some call Mulder how the hell did you know the guy came through the fucking air vent! Damn man, you need to share those tidbits more so us non golden boys can get some credit.” another agent hits him on the back. “Way to go Spooky.”

He smiles and nods and looks at the amount of bourbon that is wasted against the old oak bar. Jerry his partner is annoying, slightly stupid but more so he doesn’t want to work at anything. He is what Mulder grew up around, a bunch of rich kids expecting shit to get handed to him. Scully hands him a napkin. He smiles softly in thanks. 

“Fox Mulder right?” she holds out her hand. 

“I’m Dana Scully.” she smiles and he shakes her hand. 

Her fingers are light and soft but not covered by lotion some women wear. 

“I believe you’ve done a fair number of autopsies for me. I should buy you a birthday drink for the truly remarkable work.” 

She wonders if he is being sarcastic or has a double meeting. She’s a skeptic and it intrigues him even more based on the gold cross on her neck. He loves mysterious women. 

“Seems like you tried to thank me with a ridiculous amount of roses and daisies if I recall. Do you always try to woo women without using their first name or introducing yourself? Or do you just enjoy having them get up at 3am four consecutive nights in a row because you have severe trust issues with other highly trained equally qualified pathologists?” 

“Are you saying you aren’t the best pathologist the bureau has?” he counters turning to her. Fuck the lighting was so misgiving she is breathtaking. 

“I hold the same exact qualifications as my colleagues.” she stares him down it’s not often that someone challenges him so effortlessly which is another major turn on for him. 

Fuck this Scully is going to have him embarrassing himself shortly. 

“And I hold the same qualifications as people in my unit.” he counters.

 “Really? Don’t you have a doctorate in psychology from Oxford? Pretty sure that isn’t run of the mill in the VCU” oh shit she has looked into him, of course she has, she is the most thorough pathologist he has ever seen. Her reports are perfectly meticulous and her logic almost unexplainable. How much does he admit without her thinking he’s a stalker. 

“Right, everyone at Quantico smart enough to rewrite Einstein at 21, and not only that be correct? Tell me about parallel universes Doctor Scully. I can’t tell you how intriguing I found your thesis.”  She laughs. 

“Think you already have a profile on me then Agent Mulder? Is it as enlightening as Monty 

Props? Not everyday an agent's report and profiles become mandatory reading in training.”

 He gives her a sad smile. So she knows the stories, the ones that have him doing certain bidding for privileges of the basement. 

“But seeing as you are here, and have kept me away from the groping fest over there, how about you buy me a drink and I buy you one Agent Mulder?” she gives him a kind smile and he nods. 

“Only if you sit next to me and tell me how in this universe you got stuck celebrating your birthday at a super crappy bar with a slanted pool table and an ex?” She laughs. 

“I don’t know if this bar has enough booze for that Agent Mulder.” Mulder grins. 

“Just Mulder is fine by the way. Really umm, I’m sorry about all the autopsies and all, I read your thesis about 4 times and I have a load of questions written down.” 

He smiles sheepishly. She looks a little stunned but also highly curious. Mulder isn’t like the stories, he is smart, funny and dedicated to the job. He also is extremely handsome and not full of himself like he’s been made out to be. He also hasn’t mentioned anything about aliens or anything else. 

“Well that’s good because I happened to have read some of your work too. M.F Lunar, I take it.” He is speechless and she loves this look on his face. 

“Doctor Scully you keep unfolding like a flower.” 

She clinks the newly added drinks that have arrived and sits down next to him pulling her chair a little closer so she can hear him better. He twirls a small straw from his mouth chewing at the end of it. She leans on her hand staring up at him. 

“Just Scully is fine with me, so how many of these universes do you think have aliens?”

 “Oh all of them certainly.” 

“Certainly” she mutters.

 “I mean you wouldn’t be so closed minded to think they don’t exist.” 

“I think it might be probable that they exist, thinking that they are here bonding with cattle and trailer parks is where you lose me.” 

“Oh well then Scully, pull up a little closer have I got some stories to tell you.” She bites her lip and takes a swing of her beer. He pulls his chair a little closer to her and starts to tell of her of the fantastic and unimaginable. It will go down as one of the best birthdays she has ever had.

[thatfragilecapricorn30]

The Nightmare

Written for The X-Files Horror Exchange, hosted by @xfilesfanficexchange. The prompt is from @baronessblixen - I hope you like what I did! Tagging @today-in-fic

A/N: The title is inspired by the painting “The Nightmare” (1781) by Henry Fuseli

prompt: demons | 4k words | season 5 | horror 

Mulder and Scully drove through the Vermont countryside, carefully navigating the winding roads covered in leaves. It was early fall; the trees had just begun their metamorphosis and the view was stunning. Scully wondered if Mulder specifically picked their current case so they could enjoy the seasonal foliage, because if so, she very much appreciated that level of planning.

They pulled up to a small inn with Victorian architecture; the house looked like it belonged in a novel with a governess as the protagonist. It was very quiet - the only sound was the wind rustling through the trees - which unnerved Scully, who was used to the incessant din of city living.

They got out of the vehicle, both admiring the tableau. She turned to look at her partner. “Really, Mulder?”

“What?” he asked, as he tried to pull their luggage from the trunk.

“Is this really a case or are you trying to get a free vacation on the bureau’s dime?” she chided.

He squinted at her, confused by her line of questioning.

She gestured to their surroundings. “Vermont in October… quaint bed and breakfast… are we really here for work?”

“I hate to disappoint you, Scully, but this is not a romantic getaway,” he said, “but it could be if you play your cards right.” He waggled his eyebrows.

Mulder continued, “This town is so small that this is the only accommodation available. Unless you’d prefer to camp out in the woods?” 

Scully rolled her eyes and followed him inside, where they met the proprietor, Grace. She had gray hair but her presence belied a much younger woman. Grace showed them to their rooms and advised them that she would be around to answer questions and cook them breakfast in the morning.

Scully had to admit that this place was a lot nicer than some of the other motels they had stayed in. There were big windows that faced the changing forest and the bathroom even had a clawfoot tub. The only problem was that the heater was on overdrive. The climate was definitely cooler than Washington, but it wasn’t cold enough to warrant the sauna-like temperature. She couldn’t find a thermostat, so settled for opening the window a touch to let in the fresh air. Scully was marveling at the view when she had the sensation of someone watching her. Usually it was Mulder, which should make her uncomfortable but she was used to it at this point. However, when she turned around he wasn’t there.

“Mulder,” she called out. They were lucky that they snagged the two rooms that had a connecting door, so they didn’t have to traipse down the hall to talk to each other. 

“Yes, dear?” he responded through the open door. 

She made her way over to his side. “Were you just in my room?” she asked.

“Nope,” he said. He was pulling clothes out of his suitcase. She wondered briefly how none of his suits ever seemed to be wrinkled even after being packed away but hers always were.

“My room is really hot. Have you seen a thermostat around?”

He suggested she check with Grace, so she went down to the first floor. Scully didn’t see her anywhere, so she decided to explore a little. There was a parlor with sofas and chairs to sit on and a dining area with a few tables of varying sizes. Scully examined the portraits hung on the wall: many of them were black and white and seemed really old. As was common for the era, no one pictured was smiling and their blank stares made her shiver. She heard a creak behind her, but when she turned around there was no one there. Scully laughed to herself; she was getting spooked for no reason. 

Scully returned to the photographs. 

“That was my grandmother as a child, with her family,” a voice came right over Scully’s shoulder. She jumped a little.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” Grace said with a slight laugh.

She continued, “They all lived and died in this house. My great-grandfather decided to convert it to an inn to make some extra money, but my family has always lived on the premises, even to this day.”

“Wow, so this house has been here a long time,” Scully commented.

“Yes, it has. My ancestors almost lost the property during the depression that occurred in the late 1800s. But my great-grandfather found some old railroad bonds that were worth a lot of money so he was able to pay off his debts. Family lore alleges that he made a deal with the devil in exchange for the bonds,” Grace chuckled as she said the last part.

Scully tried to keep her expression neutral but thought it was a strange story to share with a guest.

“Of course, I don’t think that’s true at all,” Grace continued. “More likely it was a rumor started because some of the townspeople were jealous of his good fortune. But a lot of my guests seem to really enjoy hearing that little story, particularly during this time of year.”

“My partner would love that story,” Scully said with a smile. She knew he was one of many that would get a real kick out of a tale like that, especially while staying in an old bed and breakfast, right around Halloween.

“How are the two of you settling in?” Grace asked.

“Now that you mention it, my room is actually really hot. Is there a way to turn down the heater?”

Grace frowned. “That’s odd. I actually haven’t turned the heat on yet. It’s still early enough in the season that the sun does a good job of warming the house. Though, it’s cool enough outside that if you open the windows, you should be fine.”

“Scully,” Mulder interrupted, now standing in the entryway to the parlor, with the case file and notes in his hand.

“Are you ready to go?” he inquired. She knew that they were due at the police station so she said goodbye to Grace. On her way out, she glanced back at the portrait on the wall, and could almost feel the stare of Grace’s great-grandfather, the alleged deal-making gentleman, on the back of her head when she walked out.

----

It was late by the time Scully and Mulder returned to the inn. They had met up with the local detective, who gave them access to the evidence and even more detailed case notes. Scully conducted an autopsy while Mulder visited the crime scene. After the long day of travel and work, she was happy to have a comfortable bed to sleep in, even though she was too tired to try out the clawfoot tub. Scully drew the shades, but left them parted slightly, so that she could feel the soft breeze from the open window. She noticed that it was full moon and hoped that its luminescence wouldn’t keep her up. She closed her eyes and fell asleep quickly...

Scully woke with a start. She attempted to roll over to turn on the bedside lamp, but realized she couldn’t move at all. It’s okay, I’m still half-asleep, she thought. But when Scully tried to sit up, it felt like there was something pushing down on her chest. A feeling of panic began to overwhelm her and her breathing became shallower. Her room was completely dark, which was odd because before there was a sliver of moonlight between the shades. The most terrifying part was that she could hear loud, raspy breathing. Was it hers? Or something - someone - else’s?

After a few moments of paralysis and her heart practically beating out of her chest, everything dissipated - the labored breathing gone, the weight removed from her sternum, and the darkness lifted. Scully slowly tried to move and once she realized that there were no lingering issues, she ran to Mulder’s room. Fortunately the connecting doors were unlocked. 

She jumped on his bed and shook him awake. “Mulder, there’s something in my room.”

Mulder woke up instantly, asking “What’s going on?” as he started to get out of bed.

“I swear someone is in my room!” Scully exclaimed, trying to keep the hysteria out of her voice.

Mulder got out of bed to investigate and she followed him closely behind. He flicked on her light, which illuminated the room and showed that nothing was out of place. Mulder checked the closet and her bathroom, while Scully remained by the connecting doors. It seemed silly to be scared, but all she could think about was the pitch blackness, not being able to move and the noisy panting that sounded like it was from a person. Scully blushed a little when she saw her gun was on her bedside table. There was really no reason to bother Mulder when she could protect herself.

He met her at the doorway after his inspection was complete. “There’s no one here, Scully.”

She shifted on her feet, reluctant to be alone again. He must have been able to sense her hesitance at sleeping in her own room because he led her back to his bed, where she sat down.

“I’m sorry, Mulder, I really thought there was someone there.”

She started to explain the incident as Mulder got back into bed. She hoped that he wouldn’t comment on the fact that she was making herself comfortable as well, by laying down next to him. She didn’t want to go back to her room but she also couldn’t bear Mulder making a joke right now when she was still feeling a little frightened. 

He listened to her tale with interest and then asked, “Scully, have you heard of sleep paralysis?”

“Mulder, I’m a doctor. Of course I have.”

“Well, I hate to be the voice of reason, but your experience matches all the symptoms,” he stated with a chuckle.

“But it really felt like something was holding me down…” she trailed off, shivering slightly at the memory.

He brushed back a lock of hair that was plastered to her cheek from sweat.

“Did you know that hundreds of years ago, people didn’t know about sleep paralysis as a medical phenomenon and used to believe that a demon was sitting on your chest? And that’s why you couldn’t move?”

Scully wrinkled her nose. “Mulder, your bedtime story needs some work.”

Mulder laughed, “I can certainly arrange for sweet nothings to be whispered in your ear, if that’s what you’d prefer.”

She snuggled into the covers a little more, and raised her eyebrows as if to say go on.

“In Newfoundland, the creature on a person’s chest was called The Old Hag. It’s actually a popular figure in their culture. There are a few ways to prevent the Old Hag from visiting, one of which is to sleep with a bible under your pillow…”

Scully fell asleep to the slow cadence of his voice and the feeling of his fingers brushing through her hair.

----

The next morning, Mulder and Scully ate a quick breakfast in the dining room. There didn’t seem to be anyone else staying at the bed and breakfast, which added to unsettledness Scully felt. Once Grace left the house to tend to her garden, Scully turned to Mulder conspiratorially.

“I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, but…” she paused for dramatic effect. She owed him for letting her stay in his room last night, and she knew he would like this story.

“...Grace told me that there’s a legend in her family that her great-grandfather made a deal with the devil.”

Mulder looked intrigued. “Do tell.”

“Apparently, he was going to lose the house but found some railroad bonds out of the blue. So I guess he sold his soul for them?” she mused.

Mulder leaned back in his chair. “You know, Scully, in Greek and Brazilian mythology, you can make a deal with the devil, or rather a demon, at a crossroads. It’s also a popular theme of a lot of American folk music. I bet we could find one around here, see if her story is actually true.”

Scully glared at him. Now he was taking this too far. “No, Mulder. We have a real case to work on. Plus, even Grace doesn’t think the story is true.”

“So why are you telling me then? Do you think it has something to do with last night?” he questioned.

Scully turned back to her oatmeal. “Of course not. I just thought you would find it interesting, is all.” 

It was a small lie. She had forgotten about Grace’s tale until Mulder mentioned demons last night when he was providing historical explanation of sleep paralysis. Naturally, she didn’t think there was a demon (or Satan himself) in her room last night, but it was an odd coincidence. 

“Uh huh,” Mulder said skeptically. 

Instead of arguing, Scully glanced at her watch. “Come on, Mulder, we have to get going. We’re meeting the detective in twenty minutes.” She pushed away any thoughts of demons and deals out of her mind, so she could concentrate on her job.

-----

When they got back to the bed and breakfast, Scully decided to test out the tub. She was happy that there was hot water and some nice soaps for her to use and that it actually looked clean. But when Scully exited the bathroom, she was concerned by how warm her room still felt. It was so strange: old houses tended to be drafty, not the other way around. Scully attempted to open her window even more, but it wouldn’t budge past the three inches it was already opened. She wondered if she should amend her opinion of this place.

It was only ten o’clock, so Scully decided to go downstairs and see if she could find Grace or a thermostat. It was eerily silent and only a few dimmed lights were still on. Grace didn’t seem to be around anywhere. Scully was, once again, drawn to the photos hanging on the wall. She tried looking for the one Grace showed her but it wasn’t there anymore. However, upon closer examination, the portrait was still there, but Grace’s great-grandfather was no longer in it! Instead, it just featured his wife and daughter, sitting on a divan. Scully could have sworn that the first time she looked, there was a man standing behind the two women. 

Suddenly, the lights went out. Scully was so startled, she let out a little yelp. Luckily, she made it back to the staircase without running into something because there was moonlight streaming in from the windows. Scully exhaled and reminded herself that this was nothing like last night, which was sleep paralysis. Even still, she hurried upstairs before she could be disproven. Once back in her room, she triple checked that her door was locked, just in case. She thought about telling Mulder about what happened, but she didn’t want to give him any more reason to go looking for a crossroads.

However, it didn’t matter, because a few hours after Scully fell asleep, she was awoken again, but this time by Mulder.

“Scully! It happened again!” he whispered eagerly.

“What?” she grumbled, still half asleep.

“I woke up and couldn’t move. The room was completely dark, even though it’s nearly a full moon. The same thing that you experienced!”

Scully sighed, “Mulder, you said it was sleep paralysis last night.”

“Scully, I don’t think so. I’ve experienced sleep paralysis and this was different. Plus, the story you told me at breakfast changed my mind about this situation.”

He walked around to the other side of her bed and pulled back the covers and started getting in.

“Mulder!” Scully exclaimed. “What are you doing?”

“Oh, I’m not staying in that room. That was freaky, Scully.”

“So you’re going to sleep here?” she asked, incredulously.

“What, you can sleep in my bed but I can’t sleep in yours? It’s the twentieth century.”

Scully sighed, “That doesn’t even make any sense, Mulder, but fine. Just don’t hog the covers.”

She turned over so her back was to Mulder. She could hear his breathing even out as he drifted off to sleep and it was surprisingly very soothing. Scully tried to concentrate on that instead of the weird things she had experienced in this house. She couldn’t wait to go home.

----

Scully was not one to give into her imagination, but all day she’s felt like someone was watching her. It was a prickly feeling that gave her goosebumps. It started in the morning, when she went downstairs for breakfast and noticed that Grace’s great-grandfather was back in the portrait. Scully did a double-take when she walked by, and stared at it for a full minute, completely stunned. She was either going crazy or something very weird was going on. Neither explanation was very good. 

A few hours later, when her and Mulder were in the car, they drove through a four-way intersection that didn’t have any stop signs. Mulder laughed about the hijinks bored teenagers get up to, but Scully couldn’t help but notice that they had passed through a rural dirt crossroads. There was no one else on the road and no sign of life at all, which was eerie, but Scully ignored the feeling. Luckily, they were able to close their case so tonight would be their last in Vermont. 

Later that night, she wasn’t looking forward to sleeping alone in her room, even though Mulder was just on the other side of the wall. She got ready for bed and kept thinking she saw something out of the corner of her eye. But whenever she whipped her head around (and almost gave herself whiplash), there was nothing there.

Scully could hear the TV in Mulder’s room, so she knew he was awake. She decided to see what he was up to. When she walked to their shared doors, he was sitting on his bed, flipping through the few channels available before landing on a nature documentary.

Without turning to look at her, Mulder asked, “Scully, are you going to bed?”

“Mhm,” she said, non-committedly. “We don’t get a lot of channels here, huh?” 

She was trying to come up with a topic of conversation that would justify her loitering in the doorway. But she didn’t have to, because Mulder walked over to her and put an arm around her shoulders, guiding her into the room.

“Why don’t you stay here tonight?” he asked with a slight smile. “That way we can protect each other.”

“That’s not what.. I wasn’t…” she tried to argue but Mulder’s smile just widened. 

“Oh, of course. I’m the one that actually needs protecting. You would be doing this as a favor to me,” he kept going.

Scully laughed. She appreciated him not giving her a hard time. Mulder could be really sweet, when he wasn’t driving her absolutely crazy. They both got into bed and Scully pretended not to notice that they each had their designated side now. She trusted Mulder, had since they first started working together, and sleeping in the same bed wasn’t actually as weird as it should have been. She just hoped it would be an uneventful night...

----

For the third night in a row, Scully awoke to a pitch black room. There was no moon light streaming in from the window, even though that was the case when she fell asleep. She couldn’t even tell if Mulder was still beside her. The feeling of something pressing down on her chest was back and she couldn’t breathe. Her heart rate started ratcheting up. There was something breathing loudly in her ear. That couldn’t be Mulder, could it? She thought. Scully lay paralyzed for a few moments until the pressure let up. She blinked and the room returned to normal, meaning the glow from outside was bright enough that Scully could see the outlines of furniture. Was it still here? Scully didn’t know and was terrified. The room felt oppressively hot, like a sauna. She pulled the covers completely over her and Mulder, even though she knew a thin comforter would not protect her against anything natural or supernatural. She moved closer to Mulder, gently placing her palm over his mouth and pinching his upper arm. He grumbled and tried to pull away from her, so she placed her lips against his ear and whispered, “It’s here.”

He froze and turned his head slightly to look at her. She wondered if he could feel the thick air too.

Suddenly, a loud BANG sounded through the room. Both of them screamed and jumped up. Scully turned on the lamp, as Mulder grabbed his gun. Her eyes travelled around the room and noticed the bathroom door was now closed. The loud noise must have been the door slamming shut.

Mulder got up to open it, but it was jammed. He eventually pushed his way through using his shoulder. Scully was right behind him and saw that all of the toiletries had fallen off the counter. The bathroom had a small window, but Scully could see that it was secured.

“Maybe it was a draft?” she asked quietly, even though she knew that was unlikely. If anything, the rooms were stuffy and too warm, which would not indicate any type of draft.

Mulder just raised his eyebrows incredulously. He picked up a can of shaving cream off the floor, now with a cracked cap. It must have hit the floor with some force, indicating that the vibrations from the door slamming wouldn’t be enough.

“Regardless, I’m not staying in this room,” Mulder announced. Scully sighed, but didn’t disagree with him. They both moved to her bed instead, but Scully didn’t sleep at all until the first rays of sun appeared over the horizon and the room was bathed in golden light. 

-----

Their flight left the regional airport at noon, and then they had to connect in Newark before finally making it back to DC. Scully was looking forward to sleeping in her own bed, uninterrupted, unlike the past three nights. She and Mulder didn’t really talk, just packed up their belongings and brought them to the car. Scully returned their room keys to Grace, who was trying to push coffee and muffins on the pair before they left. 

“Grace, if you don’t mind me asking: whose room did I stay in? Like before this place came a bed and breakfast?” She hoped that it wasn’t a rude question.

Grace looked at her strangely but responded with: “It’s funny that you ask, the two rooms you stayed in were actually the master suite a long time ago. My great-grandfather needed an office after he opened the inn so he connected the two rooms. You haven’t seen anything… strange… have you?” she asked curiously.

“Um, no, just wondering,” she said, probably a bit unconvincingly. 

When they finally reversed out of the driveway, Scully looked back at the inn. It still appeared to be a charming bed and breakfast but after her stay there, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of foreboding instead. She glanced up at the window of her room and saw a dark figure standing in the window.

Scully blinked and the shadow person was gone. She quickly turned back around in her seat.

“Scully, are you okay?” Mulder asked. She nodded but didn’t say anything.

“So what do you think? Poltergeist or crossroads demon looking to make another deal?” he queried with a grin.

Scully fiddled with her seatbelt. “Neither, Mulder. It was sleep paralysis. We just both happened to experience it at the same time.”

Mulder’s mouth dropped open. “Do not tell me that’s what you really think.”

Scully started snickering at the expression on his face. “I had you.”

“You did not.”

“I so did. Anyway, Mulder, I’m surprised by you. Why didn’t you want to stay and investigate more? We were practically living in an X-File.”

“Ah, you know. We don’t get paid enough to work two cases at the same time. Also, sometimes it’s nice just to let things remain a mystery.”

Scully rolled her eyes and laughed, “That was deep, Mulder. But I have another theory: you were scared.”

Mulder looked offended, “I wasn’t scared! You came into my room first. I was just doing you a favor the other nights.”

Scully started to debate that he was the one that screamed last night, which Mulder denied. She knew that this argument would entertain the both of them until they arrived back home, at which point they would call a truce. Mulder would help Scully with her luggage and she would make sure that he was going to stop for dinner, since he never had food in his fridge. And they would both agree that some mysteries were better left unsolved.

[baronessblixen]

Okay okay, I just got this idea: The IVF took. They haven’t done the deed yet. Scully’s pregnant and you know, pregnant women hormones. She gets horny, turned on and gets restless (hot and bothered really) and Mulder notices. He asks what’s wrong and she answers a bit ashamed with a blush tinting her cheeks “I’m horny”

Fictober day 24! This is part of my 5 Minutes series that you can find here or on AO3. The story can be read on its own.

Tagging @today-in-fic

Making Up Your Mind

Her living room smells as if someone’s dropped a whole basket of oranges and trampled them into the carpet. The fruity fresh scent makes her hungry and restless.

And giggly.

Mulder’s warm hands on her naked, still mostly flat stomach don’t help matters. She watches him through heavy-lidded eyes, biting her bottom lip to stifle the laugh she feels bubbling up.

A week ago, Mulder showed up with essential oil and a grin, promising her a night she wouldn’t forget. Even now, she remembers the surge of heat that shot through her when she heard his words. But the thing she’s wanted to happen for a while now didn’t happen. At all. Mulder was the perfect gentleman, bunching her shirt under her bra, explaining his every step, asking her if this was okay. It was more than okay. All he wanted to do that night was treat her with essential oils, make this pregnancy easier on her. His thoughtfulness melted her heart.

Today he is more certain with his hands. Who would have thought Mulder was such an amazing masseur? With his hands, though, she isn’t surprised. Those hands are hers now. Well, kind of. They still haven’t done it. That last deed. They’ve made a baby together, but they’ve yet to have sex. Conventional is not how they do things. They’re doing it their way, in typical Mulder and Scully fashion.

So far there have been a few kisses, pecks, really, that ended with soft giggles and deep red blushes. Lingering touches and invasions of privacy. All in all, Scully thinks, feeling a deep frustration, nothing has changed at all.

After the Henry Weems case, she thought this was it. Mulder followed her home as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Since they’ve found out about the baby, he’s been territorial, only leaving her side when she makes him. And most days, she doesn’t; she wants him around.

“You’ll start showing soon.” Mulder’s voice is full of excitement, his eyes sparkling with love. She bites her lip again, but this time she doesn’t feel like laughing. His hands are resting on her stomach, making her skin prickle. His fingers glisten from the oil and she wonders what it would feel like if they moved further up, touched her breasts, squeezed her nipples. She shudders.

“Are you cold?” Mulder asks, sounding concerned.

“No,” she says, licking her lips, tasting sweet, juicy orange. One of these days she needs to admit that she no longer suffers from morning sickness, that him rubbing essential oil into her skin isn’t necessary. One day, but not today.

“You just shivered,” he says, shrugging. His hands start moving again, gently stroking over her skin, never straying too far. She wants him to stray. She wants to feel his hands everywhere. His skin against hers. Involuntarily, she thrusts her hips up and colors a deep crimson, realizing what she just did.

“You sure you’re all right, Scully?” His hands have stopped again. He is so warm. Hot, almost. Her nipples throb, scream for attention, and she whimpers. “Scully? You’re scaring me.”

“I’m fine,” she says, staring at him. He’s wearing a t-shirt, one of her favorites. It’s a faded blue, looks old and feels soft. It hugs his muscles temptingly. She licks her lips again, feeling thirsty and hungry. That damn orange scent. That damn Mulder deliciousness.

“Do you want me to stop?” His thumb is stroking her hip, driving her insane. She wants him to stop, doesn’t want him to stop. Her mouth falls open and all that comes out is a moan.

He chuckles, his eyes meeting hers, softly murmuring, “That’s a very ambigious answer, Scully. Please tell what’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong,” she says quickly and sees hurt in his eyes. Her cheeks are burning. “I’m just- this is embarrassing, Mulder, but…I’m horny.” The last bit is mumbled under her breath, but she knows Mulder has heard her.

“I,” he stammers, taking his hands off of her, running one of them through his hair. “I read that might… happen. I thought we had a bit more time.”

We. That’s the only thing she hears. “We?” she repeats, her voice as wobbly as the rest of her body feels.

“Unless you-”

“No, I want you- I mean us. I want… us.” They stare at each other, amazed and scared at the same time.

“I want us, too,” he says, smiling shyly. “I- do you want me to, uhm, help you with that, you know, problem?” His fingers tap on her stomach, coming dangerously close to the waistband of her pants. Her heart gallops, her mouth is dry. She needs a drink. A tall drink of Mulder. Not trusting her voice, she nods, not daring to look at him.

“I’m just going to wash my hands,” he says, his face close to hers, his breath tickling her cheek, making her shiver all over. “So you have roughly three minutes to think about it. No hard feelings if you change your mind. I want you to be sure, Scully. I want this. I want this more than anything, but most of all I want you to be certain. This is your call and your call only.”

He presses a lingering kiss to the corner of her mouth, making her weak, making her forget everything else. She wants to keep him there, taste him, bite into his bottom lip, devour him. Her mind is made up, but she’ll give him his three minutes.

While he’s in the bathroom, she thinks about how all of this started. The pregnancy test two weeks after the IVF, their combined impatience and fear. She thinks about realizing that she wants Mulder, needs him, desperately loves him. The water is turned off and her heartbeat picks up. She listens to the click of the bathroom door, his slow, careful steps back to her.

There he is, patiently waiting, his eyes full of questions and hope. She reaches out her hand to him, smiling, giving him her answer.

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s2 episode 10 thoughts

woohoo! this episode has "museum" in the title and i love museums! but it also talks about cults in the description and i'm less keen on those

update: there were no real museums :( i feel lied to and cheated

we open on some cows. i was admiring their cuteness and their wonderful sounds by writing "moo" in my notes before we get a JUMPSCARE to a beef processing plant which. augh. unpleasant. i do not care for meat related story lines.

we see this woman working at the processing facility and she comes home to her kids and no husband in sight (a single mom who works two jobs, who loves her kids and never stops, iktr)

and she's getting in the shower but we see some fellow with glasses is WATCHING her. the question is from where and how?!? oh very creepy!!!

then the older brother leaves and we find him in the morning stripped to his underwear in the woods and whimpering. and his back is covered in writing.

so naturally my first thought was "what does this have to do with the meat? or did they just jumpscare me with unrelated meat imagery?"

(we later learn that it is, in fact, related. but this all happened before the title sequence even aired, so i was a little suspicious!)

cut to our beloved duo. mulder says this waking up in the woods with writing on the back and no memory thing has happened to a bunch of other kids. and scully's like "but why does this interest you?" and he says the sheriff claims they're being possessed which does seem up his alley

they're in the car with the sheriff and mulder was a gentleman and let scully sit in the front <3 he said my queen, you have endured so much, and motion sickness shall not be one of your troubles

at this point i realized the earlier meat scenes WERE related because the sheriff is introducing this new religious cult, who are vegetarians and bought a ton of cows to keep as pets. cows are cute but a bit large for pets in my opinion.

next they SHARE AN UMBRELLA on the way to the church's sermon thingy

okay so the leader is typing while someone reads his words which is certainly a presentation style. they all wear red turbans. and scully says she doesn't think they seem like the type to get involved in all this. she wanted them to be innocent so she could pet their cows. i'm onto you.

mulder hears a few lines of their chanting and says that these are "walk-ins'', which means the people think enlightened beings are controlling their bodies. okay theological king!

they go to talk to the boy who was in the woods in his underwear and man. we get this shot of mulder in the back. and his coat. is so comically large. i had to pause. take a deep breath. and remember the origins of my url.

the teenager says he thinks he was maybe possessed by an animal spirit or something, he doesn't know, and scully's sleuthing around the house when she discovers a child (the teenager's brother) and they are having a chat (again how much of this work involves talking to children) but SOMEONE is WATCHING THEM and it is CREEPY!!

cutscene to the pair eating ribs together and scully has sauce on her face and mulder wipes it off for her. and i squeaked. a squeak emerged from my body. look what they've driven me to. i am a woman with dignity squeaking over a rib date.

and why did they both look so good? but i was especially admiring mulder, in his silly little rib eating fit, explain the cult's reasoning behind a new spirit taking over the bodies of those who lost hope. i was embarrassed at myself for how attractive i found him. but then i remembered there are a lot of people who have probably been in a similar situation. so thank u for following this blog so i feel less alone in that manner.

oh nooo a bunch of kids are being mean to one of the church members on the side of the road... mulder gets up to intervene and tells them to gtfo (we love a man that stands for morals and justice)

the lead bully is ANGRY and sees scully come out and says "why don't you run along with the little wife" in her direction which is exactly what i have been saying but no one listens to me.

(neither of them seem to care that this happened which makes me think it's not the first time such words have been tossed in their direction)

and he's all "my father will hear about this" because the girl notices scully has a gun and gasp. he's the sheriff's son! so mulder's like "yeah i think he WOULD like to know about this" and they beat it

there's a moment where scully says it's hard to know who is in the wrong without having a scorecard, implying that keeping up with small town drama is impossible, and mulder is gazing at her. like GAZING at her. i think he heard the wife suggestion and was seriously mulling it over.

then the sheriff's son is making out with this girl for a time i considered far too long. but she goes back to where she lives and she sees a dog! a very cute dog! she appears to know this dog and goes to visit when BAM! dog-related kidnapping occurs :(

she ends up down to her underwear in the woods and she's hallucinating a giant crow eating her and also being swarmed with bugs which seems deeply unpleasant

scully does a check up on her because she is a DOCTOR and you had best not forget it! she seems fine... except... weird chemical in blood... a chemical you'd need to be some sort of doctor to know about... and we see the cult leader used to be a doctor before getting kicked out of the doctor world... it's not looking great for him

they pay him a visit but he won't let them enter his place because they will defile the sacredness of the space with their meat-eating aura. and then all of the members of the church swarm our duo's car and OHH it was creepy. but they manage to bring him into the station for questioning.

they're trying to ask him about the weird chemicals and he's going on about the injustice of eating cows and at this point the sheriff starts screaming at the guy. and mulder has to escort the sheriff out and tell him to be normal.

he says something about the guy starting a lot of trouble for being a holy man and i was thinking to myself. famously holy men DO cause a lot of trouble. this is perfectly on brand.

so then the rest of the church members were protesting outside of the bbq restaurant where our besties recently ate. and the sheriff's son comes out and throws COW BLOOD on them. he took his notes from carrie i see. the sheriff is PISSED and wrangles him up.

while all of this is going down, a strange man is beckoning to scully. and i am of the opinion that strange men beckoning to women should be avoided, but this is what separates me from the fbi agents of the world, because she goes over and he says he wants to show them something

at this point, the score to the show was going hard. i was jamming out. it was really getting dramatic as they rode over to some place and then got out of the car.

this strange man is talking about how he used to own this land, but he sold it and got rich, and he's saying that the new people inject the cows with stuff. i felt as if this episode was trying to make me a lil vegan.

scully's talking about how growth hormone is safe but the guy is not buying whatever the government has to say on the subject. and yeah like scully the government did just take you for a while so maybe they're actually lying? who knows. she went to med school and i didn't. frankly i don't want anything extra in my cow

we see the glasses of the man who was watching them earlier doing some cow injections! the amount of red flags here is staggering...

at this point, our regularly scheduled plot is interrupted by an excellent (and by that, of course, i mean entirely unrealistic) CGI helicopter crash that had be yelling at the screen. i LOVE 90's CGI it always fills me with whimsy. like sorry i know this was a serious scene but it looked funny and i laughed!!!

the two people on the helicopter are dead, and one of them was a doctor, who was found with a briefcase full of cash and a mysterious liquid... hmm..

mulder enters the room. "scully? you're not gonna believe this"

YESSSS! he said the LINE! i had seen it meme'd into my vocabulary far before i had ever decided to watch this show, or even had any idea what it was referring to. i would just mumble "scully, you're never gonna believe this" to myself whenever i learned any surprising information. for at least the last 5 years or so. so this felt very full circle to me. he did it.

he also proceeds to say something that scully can, in fact believe, because she already figured it out herself

so here's the situation: the doctor was treating a bunch of kids, including all of those who had gone into a frenzy in the woods. but what is the through-line here...?

we see glasses man again and then a RANDOM FARMER IS SHOT DEAD!

they go back to the house of the mom and the kids, and she's like yeah my son was getting vitamin shots from that guy. man i hate to tell you but i think there was more than vitamins in those shots. but mulder is... distracted by something.

there's a light coming from the bathroom mirror and he realizes there's something behind it. so he wraps his hand up and PUNCHES IT (bad luck be upon him for 7 years)

he finds what he refers to as a "private little movie studio" with a running camera and a TON of vhs tapes... nasty!!! not good!!!

cutscene to the sheriff's son, who has undergone a kidnapping and has not woken up! sheriff is naturally in deep distress. it turns out that he was actually murdered.

the car of our duo passes that of the gunman who shot that random farmer and scully realizes she knows that face... and i'm thinking that it did not look familiar at all. maybe it's someone she went to school with?

mulder is interrogating the video man, and he's getting real rough with him. he smacks him on the head, which is justified considering he was filming people in their home, but i do worry that mulder's interrogation violence will someday get him fired. the dude swears up and down that he did NOT kill them, but he did do the kidnapping and writing, because the doctor was experimenting on those kids and turning them into "monsters"

scully makes a connection... the gunman she saw before... was the FELLOW THAT KILLED DEEP THROAT???!!!! she has to excuse herself from the room at this revelation

mulder is deep in interrogation mode and the glasses slash video guy is saying that the doctor paid people- himself included- to inject the cows with a mystery substance, and that he must have been doing it to the kids he was treating as well

scully's back in the room and her and mulder are so close. so close. there is no reason for them to be that close. but here they are.

she says the stuff in the bottle was unidentifiable. that's actually not what she says, she said something about the number of proteins it had, and that means nothing to me but mulder goes OFF. he takes her outside the room and starts yelling at her about this meaning something.

here, at this moment, is where i realize what was happening: deep throat had mentioned to scully how they were dealing with people so cruel that they injected alien dna into kids. and i was putting 2 and 2 together JUST AS our main characters were. which honestly i feel like i should have picked up on that earlier but i hone in on character details and not alien details so sue me.

anyway mulder is absolutely gagged. he's yelling about "deep throat dying for this", and scully looks super super scared. he tells her to head out and that he wants this gunman taken alive

next we see him knock on the door of the... cult leader?!?! yes, you heard me right! mulder explains that he KNOWS it might offend this dude's religion, but he needs help. and so all of the kids and the families involved with the secret alien injection are taken to the barn where these people worship. tensions are boiling.

scully asks the sheriff where mulder is and he says that he left because he thought he knew where the gunman was. and this was not part of the plan, the splitting up and going to an undisclosed location! but i can imagine that this was deeply personal for him on the levels of 1. having lost deep thoat 2. having lost his sister and requesting any information pertaining to aliens and 3. these were the folks that kidnapped him at the end of s1 so. he had some scores to settle.

he goes to the beef processing plant, where he finds a TON of gasoline poured all over the floor. now, if i were mulder, being both deathly afraid of fire and also generally concerned with my life, i would have gotten tf out of there. but i am not mulder, and he keeps going on his quest to find this man.

gunman launches a sneak attack from behind a cow. which is not a bad place for a dramatic stakeout/fight scene but boy i'd hate to be there irl. and things are looking tough for mulder, who gets off his feet, only to be locked inside the building while this dude gets his lighter. he's about to drop it when...

scully walks in! with backup! she's got her gun pointed at him and he's wavering but the sheriff shoots him like 800 times. because he was the one that must have killed his son, so it was deeply personal. he's crying while doing this.

mulder stands over his body so sadly, knowing that he will never get the information he wants

scully concludes the episode by writing her case report, talking about how the kids who were infected have started getting sick. none of the kids from the church were infected, so it seems they were a control group. so in that case, the cult leader would have to have been in on this whole thing! oh, it's dramatic

but wait! if our duo had so recently eaten the infected meat, does that mean they are susceptible to aliens in their blood? and who knows who else ate the meat that was shipped out all around the country! aliens could be running rampant!

(i don't think that is actually the case- i'd have to imagine eating alien protein once is a lot different than getting it injected in you regularly for your whole life. but still. could complicate an already complicated situation. i mean, they've already endured evil cocoon bugs, exposure to that fungal virus, scully's coma... their doctors must be baffled at their medical history)

anyway, pretty good episode! i wish i could explain the joy that crossed my face when he said the line. and when they had a little rib date. oh man i needed that. that was good for me. i'll pass on meat imagery, like always, but it was interesting how they built this episode out of that one line in the s1 finale- or that they had planned it that way from the start. i didn't think we'd ever see what that whole process looked like! and it's good to get more info on our late friend deep throat. i still don't fully believe he's dead. you have to keep some suspicions on these things in sci fi.

[lokisgame]

A Generous Donation [15]

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6] [part 7] [part 8] [part 9] [part 10] [part 11] [part 12] [part 13] [part 14]

"You're not fidgeting," Scully said, slipping her arm under his as they walked up the path to her mothers' house. "Your mom isn't that scary." "You're the first one to say that." "First what?" "Boyfriend." She smiled looking up and seeing his grin. "When was the last time you brought a guy to meet the family?" "Don't ask." "Okay, now I really want to know." "Mulder!" They took the three steps to the front door and he drew her closer into his side, grinning wide. "Tell me!" He teased, but she rang the bell and the a second later the doors stood open.

"Charlie!" Scully smiled, stepping inside and hugging her brother. "You're just in time." "I thought we're early," Mulder smiled as they shook hands. "Here, that's on time, if you're on time, you're late." "What if the time isn't set?" "Then whoever's last, is late." "That's mean." "Don't listen to him," Scully laughed and pushed her coat into her brothers' arms. "Emily!" "Hi, Aunt Dana." The girl smiled, kissing Scully's cheek then came and did the same with Mulder. "Grandma sent me to tell you dinner's ready." "Dana, Fox," Maggie came in, wiping hands on her apron, "good, you're here." "Hi mom," Scully hugged her mother then linked her arm through Mulders' again, "this is Mulder, not Fox." "Of course," Maggie laughed and took the flowers he brought. "Thank you for the invitation," Mulder said and taking a step back to Scully's side, he found her hand, waiting for him, fingers lacing together. "Let's agree that from now on, you're not just invited, you're expected." "Mom," Scully sighed, "we just got here." "Who's hungry?" Charlie said, comically cheerful. "I'm hungry," Emily chimed in. "You're always hungry," he laughed. "Will would understand me," she pouted and turned on her heel, clinking buckles and creaking leather. "He'll be back, before you know it." Scully said and followed, pulling Mulder along. "And you'll fight for the best bits." "Once he's back, he can have them all." "He might want that in writing," Charlie chuckled. "Then he will have to go through my lawyer," Emily laughed and walked through to the dining room. Scully followed and paused, clearly surprised by the amount of food on the table. "You didn't say we're redoing Thanksgiving," she said. "It's just a dinner," Maggie replied taking her usual place. "It looks delicious," Mulder said and pulled out a chair for Scully. "Come, sit down and enjoy."

Scully leaned against his side, playing with her wine glass. That was by far the nicest family dinner he attended, though admittedly, his own family gatherings didn't set the bar very high. He felt full and content enough to doze off on the couch, and that was the best feeling he could imagine right now. Charlie took the end of the couch while Emily sat on the floor, trying to lure Stubb from her grandmas' lap. The feather on a stick got nothing but a twitch of whiskers from the ginger cat, who true to his name, missed a piece of his tail, but like his book counterpart, retained his good humour despite the feline misadventure. After rubbing on all shins and collecting all due pats and scratches, he settled in his mistresses hands. "Tell us about your family, Fox." Maggie said from the armchair by the fireplace. "There's not much to tell," Mulder said, "my father worked for the DOD and died in '95, mom stayed on the Vineyard after they divorced and there she died, in the spring of 2000." "I'm so sorry." "It's okay. After my sister disappeared in '73, we sort of started to live on our own anyway." "That's horrible," Maggie said appalled. "It's ancient history. I go out to the island once a year, to visit the graves and make sure the house still stands." "You have a house on Martha's Vineyard?" Scully asked. "Usually I rent it out, saving a week or two for myself in the summer." "I'll remember that," she said, sipping her wine, "it's always nice to get out of town for a while." "Consider yourself invited," he said, drawing her a little into his side, then looking up, "that goes for all of you." "Can I book two weeks right now?" Emily asked opening her arms for the cat, who finally decided he wanted the toy more than a nap. "I'll pay, obviously. "Don't be silly. I'll email you the number for my realtor and let her know she should expect a call. It's always open for family." "Thank you," she said and grinned, picking up the cat to look into his green eyes, "Uncle Mulder." Maggie and Mulder laughed, but Scully levelled a glare at her brother. Charlie shrugged almost imperceptibly and took a sip of scotch, ignoring her frown. "We should all go together, a family vacation," Emily said, looking up at Scully, "Will would love that." "Small steps, Em," Scully said, "we'll see if he's up for it." "Any ideas for Christmas?" Charlie asked. "Haven't thought about it yet, if his results keep improving, they might loosen the quarantine procedures, but is it worth the risk?" "He will have to come out of there, eventually," Mulder said. "Christmas happens every year," she said a little sad, "Will happens once in a lifetime." "We'll think of something," he sighed. "Is everything okay, honey?" Maggie asked. "Sure, I just had a long day, that's all." "You wanna go home?" Mulder said softly, dropping a kiss on her temple, but she shook her head lightly. "Not yet," she said and handed him her glass, "I'll just rest my eyes for a minute." "Okay." The conversation flowed around her, touching Mulder's childhood on the island, the house and his travels. Some stories she heard and some were new, especially ones from his Oxford years. All the while, Mulder stayed as warm and relaxed as ever, as if he always belonged there. And when he and Charlie realised, they both traveled to New York to see Red Sox play against Yankees in September, she realised, he not only belonged, but became one of them.

They came back to her place, somehow feeling that that's the right bed to end the day in. "You want tea?" She asked, when he helped her out of her coat, ever the gentleman. "Will there be rum in it." "No rum, sorry." Mulder followed through the living room, and caught up to her by the sink, where she filled the kettle from the tap. He put his arms around her, pulling her back to his front. "Then we'll have to think of something else to keep us warm," he said against the side of her neck, "beside tea." "I don't recall you having any trouble with that," she teased, leaning against him. "You're my great inspiration," he chuckled, but let go when she moved to set the kettle on the stove. "I need to shower first," she said, turning and pulling his face down for a kiss. "Can you do this?" "So it's me making the tea?" "I really need to pee." That made him laugh. "Go, I'll take care of this," he said, kissing her again. "Thanks."

She left him to roam free around the kitchen, pulling out mugs and her favourite Earl Grey. He found lemon in the fruit basket and sliced it in half, little thing he knew she liked, and while he waited for the water to boil, a picture on the wall caught his eye. It was a simple landscape scene, seaside sunset in orange and purple, but in the foreground, with their backs to the camera, sat Scully, in a sundress and a straw hat, saying something to Will, sitting beside her on the sand. He couldn't be older than five, and God did she look beautiful. The scene radiated love, a sweet and tender moment caught so perfectly, that he almost felt jealous he wasn't there to witness it. There was a date below the picture, July 1996 with initials, CS. The jealous feeling died the minute he saw the inscription, Charlie Scully was a man of many talents. Mulder followed the trail of family portraits captured on various occasions, from birthday parties to Christmases. The kettle whistled when he was looking at a picnic scene, in which Scully fed watermelon to a three year-old Will. His face was pink as was his stained shirt, but their smiles were so vibrant, they made him laugh softly. "What's so funny?" Scully asked from a distance. Mulder turned and saw her come in, wearing a short, silk nightgown under a long, loose kimono. Both very modest, demure even, but the gown had just a touch of lace trim and it was enough to make his knees weak. "Okay, I feel underdressed," he said, as she came closer, barefoot and stunning. "You like it?" She said, puling the midnight blue robe around herself a little. "You might say that." He swallowed hard, watching her take the mugs from the counter on her way, and handing one to him, while glancing at the wall. "Will and watermelon," Mulder said, gathering his wits and gesturing with the mug to the picture. "Oh, that one, we were in California that summer and he really discovered fruit that year, loved it ever since." She took a small sip and looked up. "You want to see more?" "Show me everything." He watched the silk float around her curves and shins, as she pulled albums from shelves and brought them back to the coffee table. She took the first one and folded herself on the couch against his side, filling his space with her warmth. "Before we begin," she said, keeping her hand on the cover, holding the thick volume shut, "please, remember this was early 90's and my hair was…" "Wonderful, I'm sure of it." He finished, taking the album from her hands. First page held a single picture, Scully in a hospital bed, looking up into the camera, holding a little bundle of blankets in her arms. "He was so tiny," she said wistfully, "but there was always something in his eyes, like he knew more than he showed." "That's all you," Mulder said, pulled into this tender scene, "you can make or break someone with one look." "No I don't." "Yeah, you do," he chuckled, turning the page, "but he only got love from you. Look at this." He ran his fingers around a photo, again showing Scully watching Will in her arms, nursing happily, his tiny palm closed around her thumb. "That's love." "He was two months old." "Who took this one?" "Charlie, that's why he's hardly in any picture," she said, leaning on his side, "he's the family photographer." "Here's one." Mulder laughed seeing Scully's brother holding Will in his outstretched arms, little arms flailing and tiny feet squashing his perfect nose. "Why do I find this hilarious?" "Because it is, Will was a fighter, putting him to bed took hours." Scully laughed sipping tea, "only way was to tire him before the bath, warm water calmed him down and he usually fell asleep nursing. Those were the good nights." "And the bad ones?" "Oh, he wouldn't fall asleep for the world, the little night owl. But he wasn't fussy or scared, he just played in his bed, minding his own business." "We would've gotten along nicely." Mulder said, turning the page to more baby and holiday pictures, pausing by a photo of Will holding on to the edge of a coffee table. "Look at him, he's so proud." "End of an era," Scully smiled looking over his shoulder, "after that, I had to have eyes around my head." "He looks like a runner." "He does, but he always loved water best." She pointed to another picture, where they were sitting in a paddling pool laughing, as Will slapped his tiny arms and legs against the surface, sending water splashing everywhere. "A regular sea monster," Mulder chuckled and turned the page to find a photo of Emily, maybe six years old, and Will with his nose and elbows covered in scabs. "What happened here?" "He tried to run," she sighed, smoothing down a corner that got unglued. "He saw Emily walking through the yard and just ran to her." "Poor kid," Mulder crooned. "You'd think so, but he barely cried, he always was a tough cookie." "That's because he grew up watching you," Mulder said not even trying to hide the admiration, "don't underestimate the strength you're projecting, a self-sufficient, capable and independent figure, who also gave him love, care and support he needed. Positively reinforced example." "Sometimes I forget you teach psychology at Harvard," she smiled, kissing his cheek and leaning her head on his shoulder. They browsed through the album, watching Will grow from a wobbling toddler into a small boy. Pictures of first bike rides, country fairs and family trips to Chicago, Washington, D.C., New York. Mulder paused on a picture of Will in a New York Yankees jersey, a classic baseball card shot. "Wow." "What?" Scully said, startled out of her reverie. "I've got the exact same picture," he said laughing under his breath, "I mean, the uniform is a bit different but still, he could be me. I guess all kids look alike at a certain age." "No, that's not it," she said and her tone made him look up from the album and meet her gaze. "Then what is it?" "He's your son," Scully said. For a second he wanted to tease her back, laugh about it, roll his eyes, but though her tone was warm, he saw she was scared. "What?" She shifted a little, staying close while turning to see him. "Remember when I told you how I had Will, after I had a terrible fight with the guy I was with?""He didn't think you can do it," Mulder said. "My friend is a fertility specialist and she agreed to help me with the procedure." "What procedure?" "In Vitro fertilisation," Scully said, holding his gaze, though her cheeks burned and her hands were starting to shake. "I had Will through IVF," then she added quietly, "using donor sperm." Mulder's blood ran cold and he hid his face in his hands. "Oh sh…" "Did you ever?" She asked gently. "I," his voice came muffled, "I did, once. I never told anyone about it." He felt her side pressed against him, arm around his shoulder. "It was supposed to be anonymous." "I contacted the bank and they gave me a few options to chose from." "The blood test before transplant," he said, looking up, "that's how you found out." "Yes," "And you didn't tell me." "I couldn't bring myself to do it," she said quietly, her eyes growing wet, voice breaking, "if anything went wrong, if the transplant didn't work." Tears spilled and she looked away. "I couldn't give you a son, just to take him away." For the first time that night words failed him, but he puled her into his arms, feeling his shirt grow hot as she held on tight. All the conversations with Will were coming back, the pain he felt at the thought this kid might be gone someday, amusement mixed with respect, when he tried to play the matchmaker, wanting to take care of his mother, the relief he felt, when he heard he was getting better, and suddenly, it all made sense. He had a son, a brilliant kid with bright blue eyes and a huge heart. A kid who facing death, cared more about others than himself, honest and kind young man. Could he have done it better? "We have a son." He whispered and felt tears burn down his face. "Why IVF? Couldn’t you just find a guy?" He asked once he found his voice again and once he spoke, she began to relax. "I was crazy back then," she sniffed, snuggling closer, "the thought I'd have to deal with some guy for the rest of my life, someone who might show up one day and ruin what I build for the baby and myself. In my head, it was the worst thing possible." "You could have at least tried," he chuckled, kissing her neck, "maybe we’d meet sooner." "Or we would never end up together. Maybe now, instead of sitting on this couch, I'd be mourning my son, cursing his father, wherever he was." "You wouldn't be together?" "I wasn't ready to share myself with anyone yet, I wanted a child, but that didn't mean I felt that my life lacked." "Unconditional love." "Everyone told me I was crazy, even Charlie." "Really?" "He said, I love you Danes and I'm with you, but this is crazy." "And your mother?" "She thought so too, she thought I should wait, that Daniel wasn't the right man, that someone would show up, who would love me and our child." Scully looked up and cupped his cheek, meeting his eyes with warmth, "she didn't know, I'd have to wait twenty years for him." Mulder leaned closer and caught her lips, feeling them tear-soft and willing. "I still wish you told me sooner." "I couldn't." She sighed, resting her forehead against his, cool fingers scratching at the base of his scull. "If it failed, if Will died because of the transplant, I couldn’t risk watching you go through that." "And if I wasn't a match? Would you leave me one day, without telling me why?" "God no," she pulled him back into a hug, "I love you too much."

[scullysexual]

50 Days of Prompts (22/50)

This List | Cliche prompts | One prompt a day | college au | Words: 1438 |

Prompts One to Ten | Prompts Eleven to Twenty | 21. Cuddling in comfortable silence before... | AO3 | 

@today-in-fic @mypanicface @starwalker42

This might be one of my favourites. 

- - - 

Help me I’m being hit on at a bar please be my fake boyfriend for a second. 

They weren’t in the best of places to say the least. Which was a shame because Mulder had a found a good one in Scully. Years running after Phoebes and Dianas- people who would just use and abuse him, Scully was an angel brought to him in the form of a tiny package of adorableness with freckles he spent endless nights counting and naming, red curls that were messy and unruly because she hadn’t had time to do it today and countless round glasses because she kept losing them (or that one pair he broke because he sat on them but he doesn’t talk about that)

But Scully was too good to be true, too good for him. His attentions were always elsewhere- not towards other girls- but always looking at the sky, ignorant of her needs because hacking government websites with his friends was more important than Friday Movie Night on the rare nights Scully was actually free.

And that, ultimately, is what ended their relationship.

Well, not ended completely, simply “put on pause” had been the words Scully had used. Mulder had taken it as ended.

Sick of him moping around, those same friends had dragged him to a bar with the promise of getting him drunk, getting him laid, and helping him forget Scully.

Neither of those things had worked out yet. Except maybe the first because Mulder was definitely tipsy.

Drinking wasn’t always the best option for Mulder. A toss of a coin; heads- he’s affectionate, tails- he’s miserable.

The gods chose miserable tonight.

Langly is talking about a future campaign and Mulder finds himself wholly uninterested. His eyes wander over to the commotion at the bar- a lot more interesting than his friends’ conversation- and wonders if he is completely sloshed because that same little red-head, the one wearing those tight little jeans that make her ass look fantastic and instantly give him a hard-on, the one he is meant to be forgetting about is standing at the bar.

She’s with her friends, no doubt. For the same reasons he is? No, that’s not Scully. She doesn’t mope when bad things happen, unlike him. She’s resilient, able to get up and move on. She’s here to have fun.

He thinks about leaving. The longing he feels watching her is almost too much to bear but his second drink remains virtually untouched and to go would make his friends wonder why. One look over to the bar and they would know.

Instead Mulder stays glued to his seat, unwanting to stay but unable to go. He was too caught up gazing at Scully that he just about realises that she’s talking to another person, another boy, and breaks often mean allowing the other to sleep with another person, without consequence and judgement but Mulder can’t help but want to turn his face away, his heart deflating at how flirty and friendly she is with this person who has no right to her, because she is his.

But she isn’t. And that sadness consumes him, a dark pit forming in his stomach, the beer churning unpleasantly inside. He wants to turn that sadness into anger, call her every derogatory insult he can think of; bitch, slut, whore but also he can’t. He can’t because that’s the same person he’s called gorgeous, beautiful, and lovely. Because those three former words aren’t what she is. Because who is he to deny her attention once again?

But when he looks away from the boy, with his smarmy smile, and hands itching to touch her, back to Scully he notices how unhappy she looks, how uncomfortable- her eyes searching around, lingering somewhere at the back, calling out for her friends maybe?

Calling out for help.

Scully doesn’t want this boy anywhere near her.

Mulder’s up and out of his seat before he even realises himself. He knocks the table some point on his way up, he knows this because his knee hurts and his friends have stopped talking.

“Where are you going?” he hears Byers ask.

“To get another drink,” he excuses immediately.

“You’ve barely touched the one we got you forty minutes ago,” Langly says though at this point Mulder doesn’t response, he’s moved away, heading towards the bar.

An opening is made just in time, somebody moves out of the way and it lands him right next to Scully. She doesn’t see him, her back to him but Mulder looks towards her unwanted companion and see’s he’s busy collecting his drink.

He taps her side, twice, their secret code along with three knocks on the door.

“You alright?” he asks when she turns to look at him. His elbows are against the bar, he’s leaning down, he doesn’t think the boy can see him.

She looks surprised to see him but quickly recovers.

“Not really,” she says looking miserable. “He’s been trying to hit on me all night. I told him my boyfriend was on the way.”

The look of pleading in her eyes tells him enough. With all his might he doesn’t smirk, to be a gentleman, to do her a favour.

They’re still on a break.

He stands up to his full height, almost towering over everyone at the bar. The other boy is concentrating paying and Mulder puts his hands on Scully’s hips.

And God do they know they belong there. He barely believe he’s touching her again, his brain on constant repeat: you’re doing her a favour, you’re doing her a favour.

And yes, he’s doing her a favour but if this is the last time he gets to touch her like this, he’s going to make it last, going to get something out of it.

So when the boy turns to resume talking to Scully, Mulder pulls her into him, his lips descending on hers. It’s not gentle at all, it’s one of possession, his tongue invading her mouth upon contact. He’s taking it too far, he knows, but Christ he’s missed kissing her like this, missed kissing her at all.

One hand climbs up to her hair, keeping her there, the other onto her ass, pulling her even closer.

It takes everything he has but he needs to, he forces her eyes open and stares directly at the other boy’s.

And it was worth it. The other boy seems dumbstruck for a moment, a look of jealousy in there too, and a hint of sadness that she isn’t his.

That’s right, fucker, she’s mine, he thinks.

They pull away, probably when the needs for air becomes too much, and she’s smiling at him, her once red lips swollen.

I did that, he thinks gleefully, never sick of the sight.

He takes her hand, interlocking their fingers, just another thing that fits so well.

“You ready to go home, baby?” he asks looking at her.

“Sure,” she says and she pulls him away from the bar.

When they’re out of sight of the boy, he stands off to the side so she can get her bag, say bye to her friends. He doesn’t even bother with his and when she returns, he follows her out.

“I meant what I said, Scully,” Mulder says once they are outside, the cool night air hitting their skin. “We can go home.”

It’s not an I can take you home, it’s a We can go home. After that kiss, after his hands on her body he never wants them anywhere else again.

But Scully is, as should be, apprehensive. She plays with the strap of her bag.

“I shouldn’t have asked you to do that, Mulder,” she says. “It was mean.”

He knew he shouldn’t have tried to push his luck, should’ve just offered to take her home. He kicks the ground, a rock on the gravel.

“I’ll do right this time, Scully.” He knows he’s pleading, begging. “Please, just give me a second chance.”

Her attention is diverted to the bar doors opening again, a couple stumble out, no older than Freshmen. They are drunk and in love, stumbling around the place and laughing as they do so.

That was them once, Mulder muses. Having got in early enough before security arrive, drinking alcohol they sneaked in, and stumbling out ready to rip each other’s clothes off in the nearest alleyway- one time they did.

“Are you drunk, Mulder?” Scully asks, turning her attention away from the couple and back to him.

“Not anymore.” Only on you.

“We need to talk, then.”

She starts walking ahead and Mulder follows. They don’t touch, they don’t speak but it’s a start, a chance at a second go.

[serahsanguine]

Vacation Series Pt. 1 - Let The Games Commence. Ch, 3

This is the first book in a two-part series. This book is a six-part story which will be upload daily for the next week. After that, it will be Book two following the same pattern. it was originally made for the Summer Fanfic Exchange.

Tumblr - pt. 1, pt. 2  All chapters can be found Here on Ao3

This Chapter Rating; PG-13

*************************************

              Chapter 3: Day Two - The Village.

Scully woke up, in a tangle of sheets. She hadn’t worn much to bed as it was too warm even at 11 o'clock at night. The sun shone brightly through the folds in the blinds. If she were to take a guess, she would say it was around 9am. She had forgotten to set her alarm the night before, but she didn’t mind losing all sense of time. She sat up, the smell of fresh coffee and something else: breakfast maybe. She stepped out of bed, her legs slightly heavy as they hadn’t been used for a few hours. She walked through to her wardrobe grabbing her black silk kimono and wrapped it around her before descending down the stairs.

She stopped halfway to find Mulder listening to the radio and singing along to it. From what she could hear it was Jailhouse Rock by Elvis Presley. Then she looked around the room to find the table had been set with plates, cutlery, even a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. It looked like he had cooked her a full English breakfast: bacon, eggs, mushrooms, sausages, tomatoes, beans, hash browns. 

She descended the rest of the stairs, making sure nothing was in Mulder’s hands before speaking just in case she made him jump. 

“I didn’t know you cooked Mulder.” 

He jumped a little and then turned around to face her, his eyes lighting up at the sight of her, his smile covering his full face. 

“It’s one of my many talents, it’s just no fun cooking for one.”

“So, in all those years I have known you, why haven’t you cooked for me?”

“You’ve never asked, Scully,” he was serious but not full of conviction.

“Touche.”

“Anyway, sit down. Breakfast is served, madam and if you would like a coffee, I just brewed a small pot.”

“Thank you, Mulder, but you didn’t have to do all of this.”

“Of course I do.” There was a short pause. “You deserve the world, Scully, ”  he whispered. 

His eyes told her he meant it. 

“Tuck in, Scully, before it gets cold.”

An hour later the food was eaten, and she enjoyed every last piece of it. He was an exceptional cook. He added spice and herbs and the food had never tasted so good. She nursed her coffee waiting for it to cool down 

“What is on the agenda for today, Mulder?”

“Well, I thought maybe we could wander through the village, and possibly try out their homemade ice cream.”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea,”  she soon finished her coffee and went upstairs to get changed. Soon after Mulder did the same. 

He shut his bedroom door, leaning against it and thinking about that morning events over and over again in his mind. But spending yesterday with her, he lost all resolve to keep his emotions in check, and guarded. She unintentionally was breaking those walls around his heart. But in doing so he felt like she was also letting him to hers. 

He walked to his suitcase, he still hadn’t unpacked, and his clothes were hanging out the sides. He found the brown shorts he was looking for and also the grey tank top. He quickly showered and changed before heading downstairs to wait for Scully.

30 minutes later and some more of his book read, he was sitting on the cushioned Wicca sofa when he heard Scully stepping down the stairs. He placed a bookmark where he had stopped, and placed the book next to him on the table. He shifted in his seat and looked around to see her. She was stunning, wearing a yellow long skirt and a white tank top.   Her hair was in a messy ponytail and she was wearing a straw kind of hat to keep the sun from burning her face, she had already slightly caught the sun yesterday as her normally pale skin was a tad on the pink side. 

“You ready to go?” he asked enthusiastically.

“Yes I am, but I can’t find my sandals, have you seen them?” He watched her look under the sofa, then around the front porch, then in the kitchen. 

“Scully have you tried on the back porch? ” he watched her walk out of the french doors staring at her ass. ‘One of these days she's gonna catch me staring, and when that day happens I'm done for” he smiled at the thought and watched her re-enter the room. 

“Thank you, how far is it to the village?”

“About a 20 minutes walk, 5 minutes on the beachfront, straight across the bridge and 5 minutes walk to the village.” 

She beamed a smile in his direction. 

“You might be able to see the wild horse as we walk, a little blonde bird told me they were in the area.”

He didn’t know it was possible but her smile got even wider. He knew how much she liked horses though she had never told him herself, he remembered the story her mother told him while she was missing of how her father took her to horse riding lessons whenever he was on leave. And it’s something the two of them shared until she was well into med school. 

//

The walk to the village was pleasant, she didn’t see the wild horses but she didn’t mind, spending time with Mulder was enough, he made light conversation, made her laugh telling her stories of the lone Gunmen and the pranks they pulled on each other. 

They stopped at local shops, they were so beautiful on the outside. There were brownstone buildings, wood buildings, flowers as far as the eye could see on each side of the road: blues, yellows, whites and so much lavender. She could smell them mixing with the sea air. 

When they were done browsing the local shops, they found a small restaurant on the main street looking out onto the marsh. She stood outside reading the sign  AJ’s on the creek. She walked inside and instantly smelled the seafood. She followed Mulder to the table and looked around. The tables were covered in crisp white linens and topped with paper napkins and bottles of hot sauce. She pulled a menu up to her face but causally lowered it a little so she could study her partner. He had definitely caught a tan, he was a lovely golden bronze now. She could see the sweat forming on his brow trickling down his nose. 

“What looks good Scully?”

“Hum…” 

“Scully?” 

Mulder looked at her with confusion. She looked back at him realising that she had been staring and daydreaming for the last 5 minutes about her partner. And she had been caught in the act. 

She started blushing, hoping he hadn't noticed, and if he did, hoping to put it down to the sun catching her Irish skin. 

“Oh the Seasonal soft-shell crab, served fried on platters, and a romaine salad is with a zesty citrus Caesar dressing, Parmesan crumbs, and crisped bread sounds delicious.” 

“The way you just made it sound, makes me want that exact dish.” He raised his eyebrows, in a mock teasing way. And she instantly knew there was a double meaning behind the first part of that sentence.

Their meal arrived and it was just as incredible as it sounded on the menu,  while she waited for him to finish she thought about a few things 

Her feelings for her partner were becoming so clear to her now, but she didn’t want to give in to them, she was scared of losing him, the friendship, their partnership.  He was slowly becoming everything to her. Like he was a part of her and no way in hell she would risk it. But damn she just wanted to kiss him, pull that bottom lip of his in her lips and bite it hard. She soon suppressed such a feeling and carried on.  

“I have a small surprise for you before we go to the ice cream shop.”

“Mulder, you know I don't like surprises.”

“Well, Miss, I know, but you will love this one, I promise. ” 

“Sure, fine, whatever.”

Mulder paid for the meal and started leaving her following close. Just before she stepped out, someone stopped her by gently tapping her on the shoulder.

“You have a lovely husband there, he is definitely a keeper.”

She didn’t know how to respond, she didn’t want to correct the poor woman. But she didn’t have an answer for her. So she simply nodded and left the restaurant. 

30 minutes later and both of them were standing outside a quite large building looking at the sea.

“What are we doing here, Mulder?”

Before he could answer and an elderly gentleman came up the gate. He was dressed in blue levis and a black and red checkered shirt. 

“Mr and Mrs Mulder?”

 Again they were mistaken for a married couple, twice in one hour. She sighed, not saying anything again and Mulder didn’t correct the man either. Instead, he nodded at the old man.

“Ok, then, this way. They’re going to need to be brushed, before you go on them. But they are both beautiful.”

Mulder nodded again and looked at her utterly confused face. He just gave her a wide grin while he guided her to a stable. There were two beautiful pedigree horses: one completely black and another, white and brown. 

“Oh, my God, they are beautiful Mulder; but I still don’t get it?”

“Yes they are Mrs Mulder,” the old man interrupted her. “And they are just ready to go out. Just before I leave you two alone, Mr Mulder said you didn’t need any training to ride the horses and both of you have previous experience.”

“Yes, thank you.” 

With that, the man left them alone.

“How did you know I used to ride? And, more importantly, how did I not know that you do too?”

“First, your mother told me. And second, I learnt with Samantha on the vineyard. She loved horses and she didn’t want to go alone because at first, they scared her.” 

Scully saw the pain in his eyes, but there were also small hints at happiness from the memories.  

“Why did you never tell me?” she asked moving towards the black horse.

“I suppose it just never came up.”

// 

Mulder saw the delight in Scully’s eyes as she trouted along the beachfront: she was truly enjoying herself. Her hair was like fire against the blue of the sea and the black of the horse. 

“Mulder, I’m so glad we did this, it’s been a very long time since I rode a horse.”

“My pleasure Scully. We really should be heading back if you want to try that ice cream.” 

“Ok, race you!” she suddenly yelled and took the horse into a full gallop, leaving a cloud of sand dust in her mist. 

“Cheat!” he shouted, but she was gone

Mulder clicked the rains and went into a full gallop after her. When he finally caught up to her, she was stroking her horse waiting for him. 

“What took you so long?” she was trying to stifle her laugh. 

“You do know that cheaters never prosper,” he looked at her and she was still holding her laugh back.

“And Foxes don't win.”

“Wow, Scully, below the belt.” 

He was teasing her and she knew it. He picked her up off her horse and brought her close to his body before putting her on the ground, rubbing her a little too much against his body.

She pulled him close, lent up on her tiptoes, and whispered in his ear. 

“I know that’s where you want me, and I want it too.” 

She turned around on her heels, grabbing the horse’s reins, and walked towards the stable. She erupted with laughter, leaving him dum-stuck, unable to speak or even breathe. He finally managed to remember how to breathe and grabbed the reins on his horse finally walking to put him back in the stable while contemplating what she had said to him. 

Did she really mean it? I’d be over the moon. But what if she was teasing me? Just playing my game? Those three things kept running over and over again in his mind. 

He hitched the horse on the wood, closing the stable door. Scully was waiting for him just like always. The elderly gentleman thanked them and told them to enjoy the rest of their holiday. Mulder placed his hand at the small of her back and lead her towards the ice cream shop.

They arrived soon and stepped inside. It was a small but beautiful place, with light wood everywhere, something straight out of a magazine beautiful. The sun was setting, bouncing orange beams around the shop's white walls leaving a shimmering glow.  

“What ice cream are you picking, Scully?”

“I’m having a double cone: one side filled with chocolate, and the other, rum and raisins.”   

“Sound’s yummy.”

She ordered her ice cream and turned around to him. 

“What flavour are you having?”

“I was thinking of chocolate orange.”

“Now that sounds nice, Mulder, I can’t wait to try it.”

She had confused him again, but he caught the look in her eyes. It was a wicked look full of mischief.

Their ice creams were soon devoured and Scully had got closer to him. He hadn’t realised he had some ice cream on his chin and kept wondering why Scully was staring at him. She leant in close and whispered.

“I meant what I said earlier.” 

She kissed his cheek and then his nose, they were so feather-like, her lips barely touched his skin. His heart was hammering in his chest and again he was left gasping for air. He looked into her eyes, knowing if he looked he would know if she was teasing. He looked into the warm blue and was lost there. But he saw everything he had ever wanted, the whole truth. She loved him and meant it. Her lips caught him by surprise as she pressed them against his. Her tongue was seeking entrance and he opened up gladly. Their lips were gliding against each other, their tongues exploring every crevice in each other’s mouth. His eyes had shut, enjoying the feeling of their mouths touching. She let go and he sighed missing her already. 

“Chocolate orange does taste nice,” she said giggling like a schoolgirl.

“And chocolate and rum and raisin taste even better.”

They left the restaurant hand in hand, both content with the moment neither wanting to push. Just enjoying the simple pleasure of each other. 

**************************

Tagging; @skullsmuldon @today-in-fic @baronessblixen @peacenik0

[kyouryokusenshi]

A Dog Named Hunter

Co-Authored with Billie Reid

Post My Struggle IV. What is next for Mulder and Scully? AU

Tagging: @today-in-fic

LONG FIC AHEAD

Mulder had been taking care of Scully since she had given birth to their daughter two weeks ago. After a thirty hours of a long, painful and difficult labor, Gracie Katherine made it into the world. Thankfully, nothing was wrong with either of them. Scully was just tired and sore. As Scully rested in bed with Gracie, Mulder washed the clothes and cleaned the house. Scully was nesting right up to the time of labor, so not much needed to be done. He was sitting and folding clothes when he heard some whimpering sounds. He knew Gracie was about to wake up. He walked into the bedroom and over to the bassinet. "What's wrong, baby girl?" Mulder picked her up and kissed her head. He glanced over and Scully was smiling at him. "Hey, you."

Scully smiled at Mulder. She never realized how much he had wanted to be a father until now. It wasn't until she told him she was pregnant that she realized he had been holding his feelings back for her sake for so long. "Hey yourself," she said. "I just fed her, so she can't be hungry just yet. Sometimes I wish we were younger, I don't have the same energy I did seventeen years ago," she managed a smile.

He smiled and leaned down and kissed her. "Get some rest. I will change her and put her back down. If you're going to be okay, I'm going to run out and get some food for dinner."

Scully smiled. "Thank you," she was eager for some rest.

Mulder kissed her again. "Say, I will be right back mommy." He waved Gracie's little hand at Scully. He then headed to the nursery and put her on the changing table. "So baby, Gracie..." he smiled at his daughter. “Hope you're not leaving all the bad ones for just me," he said as he opened her diaper and saw the surprise. "That's what's wrong, sweetie," he teased as she cleaned her up and started singing to her.

Scully smiled as she could hear Mulder from the baby monitor. She immediately thought of Monica Reyes. She hadn't seen her since the night they were racing after William. Last she heard, she had met up with John Doggett. She fell asleep thinking she'd text or call her when she got up.

Mulder finished and took Gracie to the bassinet in their room. He then put the clothes up and headed to town for food. He walked into the store and got everything they needed from diapers to food and milk and even ice cream. He smiled and paid for his items when he was done. He walked out and loaded the car up and then he heard something.

"Stop!"

Mulder turned to see what was going on. He was met with a four-legged creature and a wagging tail.

"I'm sorry, mister," the teenage boy said to him.

"It's okay," Mulder replied. "Cute dog." Mulder looked at the kid then back to the dog. "Sit," he said.

The boy was in shock when the dog sat. "Wow, he doesn't normally listen."

Mulder smiled. "Saturn voice."

The boy was holding the collar and looked over towards at the park. "You should come over and adopt him. We have others out for open adoption day."

Mulder smiled as he pet the dog. Their family wouldn't be complete without a dog. "Oh really, I will definitely come."

The boy smiled. "Great, follow me and I will take you to the lady with the application." The boy led him over to an older blonde woman. "Maria, this gentleman would like an application for this little guy here."

Maria looked up. "Thanks, Jack." she looked at him. "So you want our little escape artist?"

Mulder nodded. "Yeah, I do," he tried to brush aside thoughts of Scully's reaction.

She smiled. "Fill this out. He's neutered and is up to date on his shots," she handed over the paper to him.

He took the paper and filled it out on a whim without thinking. This was going to be perfect.

She smiled. "Today is our special, any dog we have here is only $25.00. No home inspection or anything. Hunter is all yours."

Mulder handed back the papers and opened his wallet. "Wow, just like that huh? And he's healthy and everything?"

She took the paper and filled out the receipt. "He is perfectly healthy. He loves people. I think he saw you and got away from Jack. Guess he picked his owner. He a nine month old lab mix. We named him Hunter, but you are encouraged to pick a different name for him," she handed him the recite and the leash. "Congratulations, Mr. Mulder," she smiled and put the money in the box.

Mulder nodded and smiled. "He chose me, huh?" He chuckled. "Well, that is an honor. The only other person who would agree is my wife."

She smiled. "Have fun with him, Sir." The dog sat there looking at him, wagging his tail.

Mulder looked down at him as he took the leash in his hand. He ruffled the dog's fur. "Well, looks like we got to get you some food and stuff before you come home with me," he smiled.

"Ruff!"

Mulder walked back to his car and opened the door to the driver's side. He put the keys in the ignition and rolled down the windows about halfway. Thankfully, the weather had began to cool down. It was finally feeling like fall. "I'm going to get you some food and stuff, Bud, before we go to your new home. Guard the car for me while you wait?" He closed and locked the door.

The boy that had the dog, watched with a smile.

He sat in the car and barked at everyone, but wagged his tail each time when someone walked by.

Mulder quickly grabbed some basics they would need for the dog and the groceries he needed that were on his list. He headed back to the car and figured he'd grab some takeout for lunch.

Scully was playing with Gracie while she waited for Mulder to return. "Daddy will be home soon, Sweetie. I hope so, I'm hungry."

Hunter laid down in the passenger seat for the car ride home with Mulder.

Meanwhile, Mulder tried to contemplate how he was going to explain this to Scully on the way back. He had stopped and picked up some hamburgers and fries along the way.

Scully was laying on the bed with Gracie. "I think I hear daddy pulling in."

She stood up and picked Gracie up. "Let's go see if that's him." She walked out of the bedroom and headed downstairs to the living room.

Mulder took a deep breath as he got out of the car and went around to get Hunter. "Hey Bud, we're home!"

Hunter jumped down out of the car, wagging his tail and smelling the ground. He found a spot in the grass and did his business.

Scully was at the door with Gracie in her arms. Scully's eyes went wide when she saw the dog.

Mulder looked at her like a deer in headlights and tried to manage a smile. "Hi...Merry...early...Christmas?" He had no idea he would be bringing home a dog today.

"Mulder, I said I wanted food. Not a dog."

"Well, you'll be happy to know that I did remember to get the food. Scully, meet Hunter."

She raised her eyebrow at him. "We have a two week old baby. We don't have time for a dog, Mulder." She was upset but didn't want to yell with Gracie in her arms.

Mulder walked up the stairs with Hunter, who sat down in front of them with his best puppy eyes, as did Mulder. "Aww, Scully. Don't worry, I'll do all the feeding and clean up. You won't have to worry about a thing. He'll be good company for us when you go back to work."

She looked from the puppy to Mulder and just turned and walked back into the house and back up to the bedroom. She put Gracie down in the bassinet.

Mulder followed her and looked over at Hunter. "Let's see your new house," he walked inside, keeping hold of the leash. "You'll have plenty of freedom outside too."

Hunter followed him around, smelling things. He saw a bag and went over to smell it. Mulder looked over. "That's a diaper bag. Off limits to you," he said. The dog walked away on his journey.

Scully walked back down and to the kitchen.

Mulder turned back to Scully. "Oh, that's right. I need to grab the stuff from the car. I got you lunch." Mulder removed the leash still attached to Hunter and he followed Mulder back outside as he made a few trips.

Scully shook her head. Sometimes she just wanted to strangle him. She got an ice tea and sat at the table.

Mulder came in with the food and put a bag in front of her. He then got the ketchup and sat it down. He then gave hunter some food and water before sitting next to Scully to eat. "Look, I'm sorry. I promise I will take care of him, you and Gracie."

Hunter ate a few bites and laid down near them. He then got up and walked around. Gracie was laying in her bassinet making a few sounds. Hunter was off investigating.

Scully sat down to eat with Mulder with a long sigh. "We have to talk about these things, Mulder. Communication is what makes a relationship work."

Mulder sighed. "I know...I'm sorry. When I saw him, I just knew he had to be with us."

Hunter followed the noise and was smelling the bassinet.

Hunter sniffed at the bassinet and was looking at it wondering why it was making noise. Hunter comes down and licks Mulder's hand excitedly and trying to get his attention.

He did it again and ran up the stairs. Waiting to see if he follows. Scully looked over. "He's trying to tell you something, Mulder."

Mulder looked over at Scully. "What do you mean?" He asked as he went up the stairs.

Hunter wagged his tail and went to the noise again. Gracie was whimpering. Hunter danced around the bassinet and Gracie was almost to the point of a full on wail.

"That's your baby sister, Hunter, you have to be careful with her though," Mulder said as he picked her up.

Gracie cooed at her dad. Hunter walked over and sniffed them. He huffed and shook his head at the bad smell.

"Oh no, I guess that means you need another diaper change!" He looked from Hunter to his daughter.

Gracie yawned. Hunter licked Gracie's hand. Scully was wondering what was going on she headed up stairs. "Mulder, what are you doing?"

"Apparently Hunter realized she needed a change before we did," he said as he got to work

"I don't want that dog near her," Scully replied protectively.

Mulder looked at Scully in shock. "What? If we introduce them early, they'll bond faster. I thought you wanted a dog."

"That was before we had Gracie," she walked over. "Come on, mutt." She patted her leg.

Hunter followed her out of the room and back downstairs. Scully looked at the puppy when she got there. "You are a cutie," she admitted, petting his head. "I just wish he'd have asked." She went to the couch and the puppy followed.

When Mulder was done changing her, he set Gracie back in the crib and walked back down the stairs. He stopped when he saw Scully. "See I knew you'd come around. Who can resist him?"

She looked over. "You're going to have to train him. And let him know to be gentle with Gracie."

Mulder smiled and wrapped his arm around her. "Of course I will," he said and kissed her.

She kissed him back. She could never stay mad at him. She was so in love with him, it was hard to stay mad for too long. She rested her head on his shoulder.

"Just wait, they'll be best friends before you know it. You wished for a puppy and got one, right?" He teased.

She looked at him. "Why would I want a dog or a puppy when I have my Fox?" She teased.

"Well thank you, you look pretty foxy yourself," he grinned.

------- It had taken a few months, but Hunter was finally learning some basic tricks, such as sit, roll over, lie down and shake. Mulder's favorite nickname for him was Buddy. He knew Scully wouldn't admit it, but she enjoyed having him around too. He was so attentive to Gracie and though William came around from time to time to visit, they lived in the country and didn't have many close friends or family. It was good for her to have a close playmate.

Gracie was enjoying playing on the blanket on the floor with some of her toys. Playing with some of her plastic balls. They'd go rolling away from her and she'd just watch it, trying to figure out how to get to it. Just then, the Hunter picked it up and took it to her, then licked her hand and laid down in front of her. She giggled and pushed the ball out again. The puppy stopped it and with his nose pushed it back.

Scully looked over and couldn't help but smile. She was really happy Gracie had a friend. "I hate to admit it Mulder, but I think you were right. I really missed having a dog."

He looked at her. "Can I trust you with him? After what happened with Queequeg and Dagoo?" he teased

Scully shrugged, "Well, I lost Queequeg on that one case remember? Don't tell me you're suffering from dementia already," she teased. "As for Dagoo, I worked with a nice rescue to find him a home after my landlord found out. Unfortunately, having a dog at the time wasn't realistic with our cases either," she frowned.

"So, now that we are together as a family. It's the right time for us to finally be happy."

Mulder played with her fingers as he watched Gracie and buddy play."Yeah, that's what I whispered in the church, remember?"

"So you also wished for Buddy?" Mulder pulled her hand up and kissed her knuckles.

"Well, I wished for another puppy, so you were close. Only it wasn't God this time, it was Fox Mulder that delivered."

He smiled at her. "You know, we put her down for a nap. Want to try for another one?" he wiggled his eye brows at her.

"Oh God, you can't be serious, Mulder! Gracie was a surprise and impossible surprise, but we're in our fifties!"

"And fifties are the new thirties. We are still young."

"Well, we are in great shape, I must admit, but don't get your hopes up. What happened was a medical miracle," she smiled. "She's our one in five billion, to be exact."

"Good. I was worried you were getting tired of the sex," he whispered

"Oh no, what made you think that?" "Just making sure," he smirked. "And Gracie is healthy and amazing," he kissed her neck.

Gracie yawned and tried to roll over onto her back. It took her a bit, but she got it.

They both looked over in surprise. "Oh wow, she's sitting up," Mulder said

"She is!" Scully smiled at Mulder. "Just look at her, she's going to be so smart."

"Just like her mom," Mulder smiled.

Just then there was a knock at the door.

Buddy started barking. Gracie fell over and started crying. Scully went and picked up Gracie. "It's okay, Sweetie."

Mulder stood up. He hadn't heard any cars. "I'll go look, you stay here." He looked through the peep hole and opened the door to see Jackson.

Scully was doing her best to calm Gracie down.

Jackson looked at Mulder. "Hi."

Mulder looked at Jackson. "What are you doing here?" Mulder smiled at him. "Come in."

"Scully...we have company," he said as he shut the door once Jackson walked in. Buddy was looking at him, unsure.

The dog barked.

"It's okay, bud." Mulder said, petting his head. "Good boy though."

Scully stood up and went to pick up Gracie. Hunter got down and rolled over for Jackson to rub his belly.

Mulder smiled at them as Scully walked around the corner. She was shocked and happy to see him.

"Will... Jackson." she said and walked over to them.

Jackson looked at Gracie with wide eyes. He saw her in the visions he shared with Scully, but he had never seen her in person before, so he stood there in shock. "Hi," he said.

Scully was rocking Gracie, calming her down. Gracie glances over at the new person in the room and stops fussing. She smiles at him and starts cooing.

"Come in and have a seat. Can I get you something to drink?" Scully asked.

Jackson couldn't help but smile back. His head started to hurt a little. If he didn't know any better, he would say she was trying to communicate with him. He looked up and realized Scully had asked him something. "Oh, uh some juice if you have it. Thanks."

She nodded and smiled. She stepped forward and handed Gracie to him. He reluctantly took her into his arms and looked down at her.

Mulder walked back to the living area where Jackson was. "Your--Scully told me about the visions, so we knew you were okay...but we were worried, are you okay?"

Jackson's gaze was fixed on the baby in his arms. "Oh uh... I'm handling it pretty well."

Mulder smiled. "She's really taken to you. She hasn't been around many people."

Jackson smiled nervously. "And I'm surprised you guys trust me, I've never held a baby before. I mean I've seen her, but I'm still shocked you know?"

"Why wouldn't we trust you?" Mulder said as he petted Hunter.

Gracie cooed up that the new person holding her.

Jackson sat next to him and moved his finger towards Gracie's cheek. "I know you know Dana and I do through the visions, but we haven't spent much real time together you know? What is her name?" Scully returned with the drinks from the kitchen and set them down on the table in front of them.

"Graciela...but we call her Gracie."

Jackson smiled. "Such a pretty name for such a cute little girl." He was surprised with himself. He hadn't really been around little kids much.

Scully sat down next to Mulder. He smiled and rubbed her back some. Scully bit her lip, as much as she wanted to fawn over him, she didn't. It felt different now after knowing the truth. She was sure Mulder heard her crying at night while she was still pregnant after everything that happened that night. She felt like her life was a lie. She didn't know what to believe.

Jackson could sense something was off. He hesitated before handing Gracie back to Mulder. "Uhh, maybe I should go. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to come here."

Mulder took her. "Stay, you two need to talk I'm sure. I'm going to go put her down for a nap. If you need anything, let me know," Mulder said as he took Gracie upstairs.

Scully watched him leave. She glanced back at Jackson. "I'm glad you're okay." She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to push back tears. She took a deep breath and opened her eyes. "I'm... I'm so sorry Will--Jackson. For everything."

Jackson fumbled with his hands and looked down. "You don't have to be sorry for anything. I had a good childhood for the most part until I was older. My adoptive parents, they loved me even if they didn't always understand why I could do things."

"I thought your uncle put a stop to that. You used to move your mobile in the crib. You scared your Aunt Monica and me once. "

"He did? I'm still learning things about myself and I know there are others like me, but I'm different than the others."

She nodded. "Because you are special. What would you like to know?"

He nodded. "Umm, well there's this man, he says he's my creator...the one who shot me. But Mulder thinks he's my father."

"Carl is his name, we knew him as the smoking man and he's behind a lot of the conspiracies about aliens since Roswell," she looked at him. "Wait, what was that?"

"How come he doesn't see the visions?" Jackson asked looking around to make sure Mulder was out of earshot.

"I'm thinking because I have the alien DNA as you do, but his was deactivated."

"Oh I see," he said. Just then, Hunter came running up to them and buried his nose between Jackson's knees. "It looks like he wants to go for a walk," Scully said. "We should take him out and we can talk more."

He nodded. "Where's the leash?" he stood up and followed her

Jackson found the leash and clipped it onto him and walked outside with her. "How are you doing?" he asked.

Scully tried to manage a smile. "I'm fine, it took a while to recover after having Gracie and we've been worried about you."

"She looks like you," he smiled

Scully smiled as she walked behind their house to the trail they often took. "Well, it's possible her features could change as she gets older."

"So, she'll be cuter," he smiled. "So how upset is he?"

"You actually looked a lot like her as a baby," she said. "Upset? What do you mean?"

"What you said to him, It's not true."

Scully stopped suddenly. "What did I say?"

"What you told him at the docks about me."

"Oh, you heard that?" Scully felt awkward and uncomfortable. "I uh, I didn't mean to say those things. Not like that. Our friend had told me shortly before that...the smoking man was your father. And then I ran into you. Then finding out you had died. I'm so sorry...I was overwhelmed and not thinking clearly. Of course I didn't mean it. I was just in shock."

"The old man isn't my dad. I found records that Mulder is."

Scully looked at him in shock. "Where?" she was afraid to hope.

He pulled a piece of folded paper out of his back pocket and handed it to her.

Scully took it from him slowly. "Is this what you found from the Crossroads Project?"

He nodded. "I wanted to make sure."

He looked at her. "Who's Emily?"

The thought of Emily brought some unexpected emotion to Scully. Gracie actually looked a lot like her. "She was your sister, I didn't carry her though. I didn't give birth to her like you and Gracie. My ova were taken and used to create her, but when I finally met her, she was very sick and she died."

"You sure?" he pulled out another paper. It listed everything from her illness to what happened to her. "They couldn't continue with you around. They put her in a coma and made her look dead."

He stepped closer to her, not sure how she'd take the news.

Scully looked at him in shock. "Are you saying you think she's still alive?" Scully thought for a moment. Emily would be about twenty four years old right now.

He nodded. "That's her paper work. She and I are both yours and Mulder's. His sperm from when he was abducted the first time and your ova." "Wow, this is just...so much to take in. I don't know what to say," Scully felt lightheaded.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to spring all this on you at once."

Scully sighed. "Do you have any idea where she could be?"

"You think I'd come here with all this and not tell you that part?" he smiled

Hunter went and did his business as they stopped. "Where?"

"About 30 miles from here, actually. She's a doctor at a hospital," he smiled.

"Oh really? It wouldn't happen to be mine would it?" She'd been on leave since they went back to the FBI and didn't have plans to return to work for another few weeks.

"You are good," he smiled at her. "I've met up with her. She was shocked to find out she was filling in for you. She adored you and hates the people that took her away from you."

Scully's eyes widened. "She remembers all of that? And you have talked to her?" It was a lot to take in. Hunter ran back to them once he was finished. "We should tell Mulder," she said.

He took her arm as she stumbled. "You still need to be resting,"

Scully wanted to protest but realized he was right. "Okay, but afterwards we go," she insisted.

He started walking back to the house with her and hunter.

Mulder came back down the stairs with Gracie and walked onto the porch. He could tell something was up.

Scully saw Mulder. "Go to daddy, Hunter," she unclipped his leash.

Hunter ran up the porch towards them. Scully grabbed onto the railing. "What's going on?" Mulder asked.

Scully looked at him and handed the papers Jackson gave her to him and then took Gracie inside. Jackson sat on the step and petted Hunter while waiting for a reaction.

Then Mulder looked up in shock, he was afraid to hope as well. "Where did you get these?"

"I've been out searching."

Mulder still couldn't get over that Skinner and Scully had been mislead. He smiled. "Well, when I saw your room, there wasn't a doubt in my mind. You're just as weird as me, kid," he teased.

He laughed. "Oh yeah, like that makes it better," he teased back.

Scully smiled at them. Only thing missing now was Emily. She looked down at Gracie in her arms and smiled.

Jackson's phone beeped. "I should get going. I'm supposed to meet a...friend."

"Oh a girlfriend?" Mulder asks. Scully looked over at Mulder. "Mulder, we have to go look for her."

"Mo...Dana," he started to call her mom. "You need to rest. When it's time, it'll happen." "And no...not a girlfriend." He stood up and looked at them. "I will see you guys soon."

Scully moved to hug him unexpectantly. "Please be careful and um...come back soon?"

He hugged her back. "Oh, I will,” he touched Gracie's face. "Bye, Sweetie."

Gracie lifted her arm towards him and babbled.

He smiles. "You be a good girl okay, Gracie? I will see you soon too."

Mulder stood up. He walked down the steps with him. "You need anything, you call okay and you are more than welcome to stop by anytime."

Jackson nodded and hugged Mulder too. Mulder was stunned silent and then pulled back a minute later. "Hey, that was better than last time," he joked. Jackson grinned with embarrassment. "See you guys later," he said and took off to his car.

Jackson headed into town. He planned to meet up with Emily and talk to her about things more too.

Mulder looked back at Scully and smiled.

"I can't believe Emily is alive," she said, afraid to hope.

"I will look into it as well see what I can find out. Let's take one step at a time okay? Why don't we head inside and watch a movie and relax. I will start looking afterwards, okay?" Mulder took Gracie from her arms.

Scully looked over at Mulder and nodded. "Okay," she couldn't help but feel anxious.

Scully fell asleep against Mulder halfway through the movie. He looked over and reached over to pull the blanket over her.

Meanwhile Jackson drove into the city and to the restaurant where he was supposed to meet up with Emily.

Jackson walks over to her. "Hey," he said and sat down. "I know you're on break, so I will make this quick. These papers are everything I have gotten when I was looking into the CDC and the projects. Right down to everything. We finally have proof," he smiled at Emily as he handed her the papers to read over.

Emily took the papers. "I take it you told them?" She asked. She had gotten word that Dr. Dana Scully was returning to this hospital after an extended leave and each passing day made her nervous.

"I did," he said. "She wants to meet you. She's missed you...and she even smiled when she looked down at Gracie. She said she reminded her of you."

Emily got teary eyed for a second. "Oh God, I have to meet with a patient in fifteen minutes, I can't be crying," she laughed. She was nervous but relieved her mother hadn't stopped thinking about her.

He smiled at her. "Dad's leery of course...think he's being strong in case something happens."

Emily nodded nervously. It was going to happen sooner than later and she'd rather it be sooner. "Yes, that sounds great."

He smiled. "Sounds great, you have my number. I will call you with a day and time." He stood up and stood next to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I'm glad things are finally coming together for us." Emily smiled. "Me too, see you soon."

"Take care, sis," he smiled and headed off.

Two days later, Jackson stopped back by the house and knocked.

Mulder had been out for a run and swore he saw Jackson's car, so be began to jog back. Scully was startled by the door. It couldn't have been Mulder unless he forgot his key again. There wasn't much need to lock the door during the day as no one was around for miles, but with their history you couldn't be too safe. Scully had just got done putting Gracie in one of those baby carriers so she could get some things done around the house. She walked to the door and opened it. She couldn't hold back her excitement. "Jackson, I didn't expect to see you back so soon," she said.

"Oh...you um, want me to leave?" he teased. He knew how happy she was when she saw him, but the teasing side he guessed he got from his dad.

Scully smiled. "No, don't be ridiculous. I just didn't want to get my hopes up."

"So, mind if I come in and talk to you and Mulder?"

"Yeah, Mulder isn't back yet, but he should be soon."

"I can come back then."

Just then, Gracie let out a cry. She could sense who was at the door and she wanted to see him.

Scully smiled. "Someone wants you to stay," she said.

He smiled. "She in the living room?" he asked just as Hunter ran to him, wagging his tail. "Yes, she is." Scully was happy they seemed to like each other a lot already.

He walked into the living room. "Hey Cutie," he picked her up. He looked over at Scully. "You think we could all have dinner say...tomorrow?" he asked. Scully looked at him in surprise. "Of course," she looked at him curiously

He smiled at her. "Good...someone wants to meet you too."

"Mind if I take a picture of Gracie to send to Em?"

"Oh, so you two have been in contact with each other?" Scully was surprised.

"I have for a while, yes. Once I found the information out from the CDC and the projects. I was shocked when I found out I had a sister. I tracked her down." Jackson was playing with Gracie as he held her.

Just then, Mulder came in the door and looked at them both in surprise. He looked over and smiled at Jackson. "Hey you."

He walked over and handed Gracie to Mulder. "I just stopped by to see if dinner tomorrow night with all of us would be okay."

He didn't want him thinking he was doing something behind his back. Mulder took Gracie.

"Oh? Who's all if you don't mind me asking? You bringing a girlfriend over?" he teased.

"No. You, Mo.. Dana, me and Emily," Jackson filled him in on. Mulder looked over at Scully.

Scully felt anxious all of a sudden. She was afraid to believe, but hopeful at the same time. She had a feeling the meeting would change their lives.

"You okay with this, Dana?" Mulder asked, worried about her.

"I don't think I have a choice, I go back to work soon. I can't not know, Mulder."

He then smiled down at Gracie in his arms. "Jackson want to take hunter for a walk with me?"

Jackson nodded. "Uh sure," he felt like something was up.

He handed Gracie over to Dana. "Come on, Hunter. Time for a walk."

Hunter was listening pretty well, so he didn't need to put the leash on him. Mulder opened the door and walked down the steps. He looked over at Jackson. "I looked into the info you gave us and I found the same thing. So you trust this…Emily? Scully may want to do a DNA test to check for sure."

Jackson nodded. "I haven't had any off putting visions about her. I can usually sense right away if something is off about someone, like the guy I got a car ride with while you were following me all those months ago."

"So you believe her, then?"

He kept an eye on Hunter. "I just don't want your mom upset again. I don't like seeing her upset."

Jackson nodded. "I know, that's why I waited to tell you guys. I wanted to be sure also."

He nodded. "Okay, I hope you're right," he said and put him arm around him.

Jackson smiled. "So she showed you the papers? I'm sorry you had believe that as long as you did," hoping Mulder knew what he was referring to.

Pulls him closer. "I knew deep down in my heart I was your father. I never doubted it. Just hate when others use my family against me."

Jackson smiled. "Good."

"So...where are you staying at?"

Meanwhile, Emily texts Jackson back. "She's a cutie…You didn't tell them about Molly did you?"

Jackson ran his hand through his hair. "Umm, this motel nearby. The owner thinks I'm a middle aged guy on a work trip."

"Above the garage is like a small apartment if you need a place," he looked over at Hunter. "Come on, boy. Let's head home."

Emily was starting to panic that Jackson told them. She wanted to do it. She was finally able to get away from the project when she was twenty one, but not before they impregnated her. So far they have left them alone, but she always worried when she was at work and Molly was at the sitters.

Jackson smiled. "If you're sure I won't be a bother."

"I doubt it," he smiled "I'm sure Scully would enjoy the company when I'm gone."

"Jack…please tell me you didn't!" Emily sent another message

"Come on son, let's head back to the house."

"About lunch tomorrow?"

"Is it a go... and don't tell them about Molly, please."

"Yes and no, don't worry, I haven't said anything."

"Why am I so nervous?" she was dropping Molly off before work

"There's nothing to be worried about, Em. If it helps, Mom's nervous about you too."

"Mom huh? You're already to that?" she smiled and kissed her daughter. She then headed to work.

-----

Emily went to work and while doing her rounds, something caught her attention. She stopped and looked over the markers on the wall. Dana K Scully, head doctor. She smiled and traced her fingers over it. She knew who she was filling in for, but she never thought in a million years that's she'd be this close to her again. She always wondered if they'd run into each other again and if so, would she know? Jackson found her almost a year ago. It's been a slow course, but they needed to make sure things were done right. She couldn't risk it with Molly around. She smiled as she pulled out her phone and looked at the picture Jackson sent. It was of Gracie. Her sister. In the background was her mom standing there smiling at Jackson and Gracie. She bit her lip. She asked to switch shifts for tomorrow to have off. She couldn't wait. She started walking down the hall to do her job.

The day dragged on, but when she was finished with work, Emily picked Molly up from her friend and sitter, Jane. Jane looked at Emily. "I'm not going to be able to watch Molly for a while. My dad is in the hospital and I'm flying down to be with him. I'm sorry, Em," she said, worried.

Emily's eyes went wide. "No, don't worry, go be with him. I hope everything will be okay. Keep me updated okay?" Jane nodded. "Of course I will." They had been friends for a few years, so Emily knew she could trust her with Molly. She picked up her daughter who was sound asleep and carried her out to the car.

How was she going to explain this to Jackson? Sighing, she pulled into her driveway and parked the car. Getting Molly, she took her inside and up to bed. She went and sat on the couch and texted her brother. "My sitter is flying out to be with her dad. I'm going to have to cancel lunch tomorrow, I have no one to watch Molly." She leaned back, dreading his reply.

Jackson looked at his phone and frowned. "Oh no, well maybe you can bring her...we'll figure something out."

"I can't leave her in the car while we eat."

Emily soon feel asleep on the couch. She didn't know if she should risk meeting them again after all these years, let alone introduce them to Molly at the same time.

"Of course you won't, bring her with us. They won't bite."

She woke up and saw her message from Jackson. It was early and she couldn't believe she slept on the couch. She got up and started cleaning and getting ready. "Sorry I fell asleep, I hope they like her then."

"Are you sure you don't want them to know about Molly yet? We can trust them."

"They are going to find out sooner or later. I was just hoping to meet them first."

She got Molly up and got her some cereal. She then had her get her bath and get ready for the day while she did the same. "We are going to go meet some people today, okay Sweetie?"

Molly looked at her. "Okay, Mama."

"And when we get there, I'm going to leave you in the car to make sure they are home first and then I will come get you."

Jackson had stayed over that night with Mulder and Scully and he had to admit, it was nice waking up in a warm bed. He was eager for them to meet Emily, but anxious at the same time.

Scully was up early making brownies, getting salad ready and cleaning

She made a pie too. She was going to keep it simple with hot dogs, hamburgers and that kind of thing.

Mulder was up keeping Gracie busy as he got some laundry done while he helped Scully.

"Wow, Scully. I forgot how impressive you were when it comes to cooking," Mulder said.

Jackson came down the stairs after sleeping in some. He woke up a few times from hearing Gracie cry at night. "Wow, Dana...that's impressive.”

She smiled. "Always been used to cooking for a big family. Always helped my mom."

---- Emily was just about to head over. She texted Jackson. "What should I bring over? I wasn't even thinking."

"I think there's plenty here, Em...maybe some drinks. Some soda? Dana doesn't keep that kind of stuff here according to Mulder."

"Okay, I will get a few bottles and be right there." She put Molly in the car along with her purse and Molly's things. She headed for the store and bought four two liter bottles and headed over to their place.

She got there easy enough and parked the car in front. After admiring the unremarkable little house, she decided to go inside. "Let me go see if they are home, Sweetie, okay?" "Okay, Mommy." Emily got out, but left her door open. She walked up to the door and knocked.

Scully was nervously cleaning at this point and she teased Mulder about being a slob. She nearly jumped at the sound of the door.

Mulder looked over at her and checked Gracie before walking to the door. He opened it up. Emily was standing there nervously waiting.

Emily looked at him. "Hi,” she said and smiled.

She licked her lips. Mulder looked at her. "Emily?" he asked. She nodded her head. "Wow, you haven't changed all that much."

Scully stood there, trying her best to find the words and was struggling. All the rehearsing she did went out the window. "Hi, uh…come in."

She made a face. "Um…I brought someone. Is that okay?"

Mulder put his arm around Scully who nodded. "Who did you bring?" she asked, somewhat uncertain.

Emily didn't answer right away. She went back to her car, unbuckled Molly and helped her out. She looked at her. “Come on, Sweetie." Emily took her hand and walked back to the door where they still stood. She took a shaky breath. "This is Molly...my daughter."

Scully was overwhelmed this was so much to take in. If this was true, did that make her a....grandmother?!! "She's adorable. Hi Sweetie."

Molly looked at her then to her mom and grabbed a hold of her leg and hid. Emily smiled. "Sorry, she's like this with new people." She turned to see Jackson standing behind them. "Hey Molly, look who it is!" Emily pointed to him.

Molly ran to Jackson and clung to him. He could sense Dana wanted to do a DNA test, but would wait to ask her. He couldn't blame her for wanting hard evidence after all these years. He recalled her doing one on him when she found him and thought he was dead.

Emily smiled at them. "I brought some drinks. I will grab those quickly. And I will explain her later," she whispered to them

She grabbed the drinks and shut her doors. She then went inside with them, still nervous.

Mulder looked at Scully as Jackson picked Molly up. "Want to see a baby?"

"Baby?" She said.

"Yes," Scully said and she went to pick up Gracie. "This is Gracie."

"acie?" she couldn't say all words right just yet, but she was smart. Molly smiled and leaned forward and kissed her head. Jackson held tight as she moved in his arms.

Gracie reached towards Molly and cooed. Scully smiled. "It's nice having visitors. She hasn't been around many people yet."

Emily smiled. She went over to see her as well. "She’s a cutie," then something familiar caught her eye. She looked at Dana and she saw the cross necklace. She reached out towards her and touched it. Scully tensed up slighly and then relaxed as she remembered. "You...remember...this?" Her voice wavered slightly.

She nodded. "Yes…you gave it to me when I was younger. They took it from me when they took me from you," she frowned

Scully fought back the tears. This had to be her Emily. She reached out and hugged her.

Emily smiled and hugged back. "I've missed you so much," she whispered.

"For so long...I thought," her voice broke.

"What happened, where have you been?" Scully had so many questions. "How did you find Wi--Jackson?"

She pulled back some. "I will explain it all once she's down for a nap. I don't let her know what all has happened to me," she looked over at Jackson. "He found me actually. About eight months ago or so." Scully nodded in understanding. "Oh I see." She was glad they seemed to get along well so far. "Well, are you guys hungry?"

Molly had her head on Jackson's shoulder but nodded. Mulder smiled and tickled her. "Hey, let's go get food before they do," he held his arms out towards her.

Emily smiled at Mulder. She remembered he was goofy with her too.

"I don't get to have dinner with other people very often," Emily smiled. "Thank you."

Scully smiled. "Me either... I'm stuck with him," she nods towards Mulder and smiled.

"Is it because I'm Spooky?"

"Yeah, maybe a little," she smiled.

"Thanks," he said.

"I still can't believe you work at Our Lady of Sorrows," Scully said, looking back at Emily.

Emily looked at her. "I was just a fill in at another hospital then got a call to cover a woman on maternity leave."

"Ahh I see," Scully couldn't help but feel proud of the fact that her daughter must have been incredibly smart to be working as a doctor already. And the woman on maternity leave had to be her, though it was possible someone else could have gone. She had been away from the hospital for close to two years.

"You need help with anything?" Emily asked.

Mulder made a funny face at Molly.

Scully shook her head. "It’s all done," she handed Gracie to her. "I will get the plates."

Emily couldn't believe how well Molly and Mulder were getting on.

Molly giggled at him. "You’re silly." Hunter went under the table and hoped for leftover droppings of food.

Molly was talking to her mom as she ate. Hunter took her hotdog and laid down on the floor and munched away. Jackson was the only one who noticed and grinned.

Molly looked and was shocked, but kept talking. Mulder was feeding Gracie and listening. All of them were enjoying this time together. Jackson was so happy he now had a family and siblings.

He held out a piece of meat under the table for Hunter on the sly while he talked. "Man, I kind of wish we had a dog growing up."

Scully looked over. "I've had a few…don't ask your dad about it though," she warned.

"Oh, why not?" He was curious now. Hunter licked his fingers and walked away.

Mulder looked over. "Oh, she keeps losing them."

Jackson frowned. "Is that so?" Scully turned to Mulder. "Well if you hadn't insisted on bringing Queequeg along on that case..."

"Oh, so it's my fault?" he teased.

"Something like that.....so you better take care of this one."

"You said you'd take care of Hunter," she sighed. "So…onto something else.”

------

After dinner, Emily decided Molly needed to rest. "So...we should probably talk,'" she suggested to Mulder and Scully as she and Jackson helped clean up. Scully nodded. "We have an extra bed in the nursery, she can sleep in Gracie's room."

Emily smiled. "Thanks." She helped and then took Molly upstairs for a nap. When she was asleep, she came back downstairs.

She looked at them once she sat down in the living room. "So where to start...once they took me from you, they put me into a coma. I was taken away and awake. They continued all their testing on me. It took years, but finally I was cured. Then it was onto a new test. It took three times, but I became pregnant from their testing. I destroyed the computers, burnt the place down and ran away."

Mulder and Scully looked at her in shock. Scully recalled Sveta, who was close to Emily's age. "Do...you have the marks?" Mulder asked. Emily looked at him then to Jackson. She knew what he was referring to. She stood up and lifted her shirt. She didn't have as many, but they were there. Scully gasped. Part of her couldn't help but feel afraid for Gracie when she was pregnant, but she had run every rest imaginable. She had the same worries when she was pregnant with William.

"Look I know this is hard…I'm sorry."

Scully shook her head. "No, you don't need to be sorry, baby...." she said without realizing it. I'm sorry you had to go through that. It was one of the reasons I had to give up Will--Jackson and sometimes I'm afraid for Gracie too."

"Gracie will be fine…from what I destroyed and what Jackson destroyed. It's over." "I was afraid for Molly for a long time." Mulder put his arm around Scully. "She's a sweet girl," Scully said. "Do you live around here?"

"47 miles from here," Emily replied

"You must be closer to D.C. then, but still that is a commute," Mulder said.

"Yeah…I was lucky enough to have a friend close by to babysit. Which I don't know what I'm going to do next week," she sighed Scully looked over at Mulder. "Well, we have time to kill right now...so you could always bring her here, we wouldn't mind."

She was shocked. "Really? You wouldn't mind?"

"Of course not," Scully smiled. "She is a cute little bugger," Mulder agreed. "Plus Gracie hasn't been around many people. I think it would be good for her too," Scully said.

She smiled. "That would help so much, I can't thank you enough."

Jackson smiled. "I wouldn't mind helping either, Em."

Emily looked over at her. "I know you will probably still do a DNA test...I don't mind and I don't blame you. I have the papers I took locked up safe somewhere if you want to read them." Scully nodded. "Don't worry, I'm just happy to make up for lost time." She looked to Mulder. Meanwhile, Gracie was smearing baby food around and Hunter was looking up waiting for more food to drop.

Hunter jumped up some and licked Gracie. He'd never hurt her, but he was cleaning her off.

"Hunter…down," Mulder said. He walked over and cleaned Gracie. "What are you doing with all this food, huh? It’s supposed to go in here," he tickled her belly. Gracie smiled at him and cooed.

Mulder washed her up and kissed her. Then went back to the living room with the others, holding Gracie.

It was an overwhelming few days, but Scully had collected a hair sample from Emily to compare against both her and Mulder. She also decided to check Jackson's DNA again since the first time they had only done it against her own. She needed evidence on paper once and for all. Once the tests came back, it was confirmed that Emily and Jackson were the children of both Mulder and Scully.

Mulder had been teaching a psych class at a nearby college on and mentored students. Once Scully returned to work, she planned to help Emily secure a more permanent position. Jackson had come to live with them and planned to return to community college the following year. They would have plenty of time to bond as a family. The darkness that overcast their lives as they knew it was gone. They found the light at the end of the tunnel.

End

[tatooedlaura-blog]

Date Night

This third series reads as follows:

Shattered … Desolation … Determination … Us and Ours … Ratty Towels … The Sleepover … Skinner and the Punch … Oregon … Impossibilities … Something from Nothing … Out of the Car … Partners … News … Never Replace You ... The Chip

@today-in-fic

First series … Second series

*********************

His arm was sore from where Byers inserted the smallest of metal rods containing some kind of scientific doo-hickey that would tell them where he was, anywhere in the world, within a couple hundred yards, Mulder disbelieving but not willing to truly test the theory by going 600 miles the other side of the middle of nowhere. Now he watched Scully get hers while she talked quietly about this that and the other thing to Frohike … antiseptic, nick, probe, insert, Neosporin, two stitches, Bandaid.

“Ready, Mulder?”

Eyes drifted from where she was adjusting her sleeve, then pulling on her sweater, up to her face, “sore?”

“Not yet. Yours?”

“A little. I think Byers took out some latent anger with the scalpel.”

Byers gave them a smile as he cleaned up, “you do owe me $22 for food from our last poker night. I may have pulled the stitches a little tighter than I should have.”

Thanking them, then quietly reminding them to forget everything that had happened in the last four hours, Mulder and Scully headed out into the snow, which was beginning to blow down the alley and around the corner, freezing any and all exposed skin. The only thing he could see of Scully was a slit where her eyes were, squinted against the driving ice pellets, scarf thick and warm around her head, “hey.”

“Hey, what?”

“Wanna go on a date?”

Skidding to a stop when her boots hit a packed down section of snow, “a what?”

“A date. The kind of thing we skipped right over when we went from ‘hey, let’s surf’ to ‘hey, take off your pants’.

She inhaled a wee bit of yarn fuzz from her scarf at this point, “hey, take off your pants?”

“Not here, it’s cold but maybe later.” Reaching out to grip her mittened hand, “I think we should go do something that a normal couple would do.”

“What the hell do normal couples do?”

“I don’t know. We can go to the movies or go get some dinner or fly to Italy?” Eyes glittering now with possibilities, “or we could drive south until we get out of the snow or hey, we could pack a bunch of blankets and head to Babar and chill, no pun intended, until spring.”

Head spinning with a whirlwind of suggestions to match the gale whipping her coat, “slow down, partner. Babar is buried in snow and Italy is too long a flight for now. I don’t want to sit in the car for 8 hours to find the end to winter but I could really go for some Mexican and maybe a movie with one of those incredible large buckets of artificially buttered popcorn … Oh my God, Mulder, we need to go eat food right now.”

Laughing at her, pulling her scarf down enough to reveal the tip of her nose, he brushed his over it, “where do you want to eat? Fast or slow?”

“Slow. I want to watch them make the guac so I can request extra lime and onion.”

“For that reason, I won’t be kissing you later,” he could see the shape of her mouth through the scarf and kissing the general area, “so I’ll just do it now.”

Sudden giddy giggle emerged and she nudged him towards the car, “car, move, hungry.”

“Use your words, Scully.”

“Food.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

&&&&&&&

It took ten minutes to drive, park and given the ugliness of the weather, to be seated in a corner, cozy booth, menus in hand and waters on the way, “not too busy for a Saturday night.”

Grinning at him as she opened the menu, honing in on the fajita section, “it’s 5 degrees out and snowing. Every sane person is home, in their slippers, trying to keep warm.”

“More salsa for us then.” Digging into the freebies on the table, “what are you getting?”

“I was debating the fajitas for two, shrimp and steak.”

“Oh, I was looking at the chicken chimichangas.”

Moving in on the salsa as well, “I never said the fajitas were for sharing, Mulder.”

As his head dipped, smile wide, “you’ll have a ton of leftovers.”

Biting her chip and twinkling her eyes at him, “maybe.”

Two hours and two orders of Guacamole later, Scully had her feet up on the booth seat beside Mulder and he had his hand wrapped around her ankle, picking random green peppers off her plate, “think we should head out?”

“What? Is it already over? Dates usually last past 9pm, don’t they? And if so, we are severally short changing ourselves.”

“I don’t know how dates work? Maybe some do end at 7:47pm, give people a chance to get home, put on pajamas, complain to friends on the phone how the guy didn’t pay and the sour cream was warm.”

Shaking her head at him as she rested against the vinyl back, “I think we should wander the street for five minutes and see what the cool kids are doing these days.”

“Five minutes and they’ll be frozen kids.” Squeezing her leg, he shifted to pull out his wallet, “date night, guy pays, call me sexist but whatever.”

“I’m not complaining. I forgot my wallet in the car.” Crunching one last chip for the road, “we can get it when we walk past.”

Dropping tip on table and picking up bill, “I think we can manage without your wallet for the evening.”

“I also need some gum.”

“Car it is.”

&&&&&&&&

Shivering after two minutes, Mulder stopped dead in front of a store, nodded his head, pulled her inside, “come on.”

Warm air hit her face, what was exposed anyway, and her eyes lit up …

He’d taken them into a bookstore. An independent little place that when she stood on her toes to see over the stacks of items, seemed to extend backwards to infinity; more than likely a few hundred feet but still, whatever, felt like miles.

“Feel like staying?”

She would have heard him but she was already ten feet away, unraveling scarf, following her nose wherever it led, behind a stack, around a table, through a doorway marked ‘red things, cooking, fantasy and small’. Mulder hoped he’d see her again by spring.

Nodding to the one worker, bedecked in cardigan, kilt and Yankees ball cap, he meandered to a wooden carved sign hanging from the ceiling declaring the section on aliens, astronomy, alchemy and algebra. Believing he had fallen down a rabbit hole, he broke the silence by asking, “how late are you open?”

The kilted gentleman answered, his mouth full of pizza, “we’re open ‘til we close, man, no hurry at all. I live upstairs so it’s a short commute.”

As a Tortie cat wandered through, giving Mulder a thorough look and sniff, “how many books do you have in here?”

“Lost count a few years back.” Pointing to Mulder’s right, “there are two rooms in the direction your wife went and,” pointing now to his left, “three more than way. If you get lost, yell.”

And he did.

He found Scully again nearly two hours later as she surprised him coming around the corner of the doorway leading to ‘medical, marvelous, sparkly and green’, “oh, hi.”

“Hi.” Eyeing the stack of books nearly blocking her face, “find anything?”

She almost worked up to embarrassed, “this is my second stack. Corky already has the first one.”

Mulder gave her a look of complete incredulity, whispering, “kilt man is named Corky?”

“Yes, Fox.”

“Touche.” Setting book in hand on the pile by his feet, “ready to go?”

“We probably should although I haven’t even made it to the ‘fiction about dead people’,” looking over her shoulder and squinting to read the ornate sign, “humorous cats, chubby hamsters and historically ordinary men with mustaches.”

“Oh, we’ll be back. This may very well be my new favorite place in the universe.”

“Where was your original favorite place in the universe?”

“It’s slightly x-rated.”

Pretty sure she knew exactly where he was talking about, she had the sense to turn slightly red, cheeks pinking up enough to let him know she knew, “come on. We need to go find out if we have to ask my mother for a loan to buy Ramen so we can eat for the next month.”

Corky, having moved on to lounging in a reclining aluminum lawn chair behind the checkout desk, cat on stomach, book in hand, dislodged animal and stood when he caught sight of them walking towards him, “I see you’ve found more.” Perusing the titles, nodding at some, eyebrow raising in appreciation at others, “good stuff, too. Totally don’t even remember getting this one in so kudos for finding it. If you don’t like it, bring it back, I’d like to read it when you’re done.”

And he was completely serious.

So was Scully when she nodded, “I will.”

Mulder wanted to ask if Corky needed a part-time employee but refrained, instead, pulling out his credit card, “what’s the damage there, Corky?”

The amount did not knock them off their feet. Made them inhale a bit deeper, wonder fleetingly if maybe they should put one or two back on the shelves but then Corky, being Corky, an excellent Corky in a world of Johns and Ryans and Donalds, handed back Mulder’s card, “and just ‘cause the weather sucks and your wife bought something with a shiny cover,” holding out a box of donuts, open, glazed, “you both get a snack for the road.”

Scully, getting a little hungry again, took one without question, and feeling the calm of paper and dust and musty pages surrounding her, “do you have a section on aura mapping and/or aura projecting?”

“Of course. In the back under ‘rainbows and righteous soul things’.”

“My husband would like to marry you.”

Holding up his left hand and occupied ring finger, “taken but I’d love to have a conversation with you about the whole aura thing if you’ve ever got the time. You are a very curious shade of red.”

Mulder glanced at Scully’s hair, in the process of being trapped under her hat, “I always assumed I’d be blue.”

Once everything was bagged and they’d finished a few more minutes of conversation, they headed out to the street, Mulder hefting two bags while Scully carried one, “thank God for canvas bags. Paper ones wouldn’t have held up.”

“I may not hold up. Did everything you bought have to be hardcover?”

“Pot, kettle, Mulder. You’ve got a 20 lb. book about tasseography.”

Putting stuff in the trunk, he grabbed her before she could open her door, turning her, leaning her against the Jeep, wiggling down scarf to kiss her long and slow, only pulling away when he could feel her begin to smile, “we should date more often.”

“We should and you know what’s best about dating me?”

“I have at least 480 reasons but lay it on me.”

Tugging her scarf up after another quick kiss, “you get to go home with me and take your pants off.”

“Always with the pants off.”

“Do you object?”

“Just get in the car.”

&&&&&&&&

Eventually, they arrived home, slow-going on the icy roads, to have to lug everything upstairs, leftovers included this time, “okay, there is a four book limit for our next visit.”

“Each or total?”

Tripping on the last step and hitting the wall with his elbow, “each.”

As she took the largest of the bags from him, “I can live with that. It won’t happen but I can live with the concept of it.”

Giving her a tired smirk, “then only paperbacks.”

Wet boots left at the bottom of the stairs, they only had to shed frozen coats and accessories before they could hone in on hot chocolate packets from the cupboards and super thick socks from the bedroom, “meet me on the couch in five minutes.”

Like he’d ever not meet her on the couch in five minutes and after the five minutes were up, he turned, about to yell that she was late when she appeared, package of fudge striped cookies in one hand and two mugs of cocoa in the other. Taking his, he sipped, burned his tongue, nibbled a cookie, loved his life in general, watched her settle before she asked, “so, what did you buy?”

“Didn’t you already see the titles when he rang them up?”

“Yes, but now I want you to tell me why you bought them and the order you’re going to read them.”

Another sip, another burn, another nibble, “you are such a geek, Scully.”

“Corky also thinks I’m your wife.”

Offering her a bite of his cookie, which she accepted readily, “we should get on that.”

Perfectly fine with marriage hanging in the air over them for what could possibly be years to come, “probably.”

[sunflowerseedsandscience]

By the Dim and Flaring Lamps: Part Three, Chapter Three

Part One: One | Two | Three | Four Part Two: One | Two | Three | Four | Five Part Three : One | Two

NOTE: THIS IS THE SECOND CHAPTER THAT I HAVE POSTED TODAY. You can read the one directly before it at the link above.

AUGUST 1863 WEST OF FREDERICKSBURG, VIRGINIA

As luck would have it, during the week that Mulder has spent in Fredericksburg, the Army of the Potomac has marched further south, stopping at the Rappahannock River. As a result, instead of the half-day's travel on horseback that it took him and Scully to get to Charles Spender's house at the start of the week, today, he will only need to travel for an hour or so. He has, of course, neglected to mention this to his parents; the idea of being forced to sit and listen to his father's strictures and his mother's pleading for any longer than absolutely necessary is enough to set his teeth on edge.

It's a warm morning, but not yet uncomfortable, and he meets almost no one else on the road. With the army so close, civilian travel is strongly discouraged; special papers are often required in order to pass from one town to another, and some soldiers are less cordial and gentlemanly than others when it comes to dealing with Virginian citizens.

Of course, it's not exactly safe for a soldier from either side to be riding alone, either, given the number of opportunistic thieves roving the countryside. And it's particularly dangerous for Union soldiers, at the moment, with Mosby's Raiders leaving the rebel army to go marauding north of Lee's encampment. Mulder hopes, not for the first time, that Scully had managed to make it back to the regiment without any trouble.

Near the end of his ride, about twenty miles away from Fredericksburg, Mulder passes through a picket line, marking the outer boundaries of the Union army's encampment. He's let through with relatively little hassle- the men are from his own brigade and recognize him immediately- and passes through three brigades before he manages to locate his own.

Further along, just out of sight of the picket lines, there's a group of men whiling away the morning by playing a game of four-to-a-side baseball, their jackets lying abandoned in a heap behind their makeshift home plate. Mulder stops to watch for a moment. The players are making do with a pitcher and three basemen; the men waiting to bat for the other team are taking it in turns to retrieve the pitches that the batter misses. Mulder wonders, for a moment, whether being a colonel means that he's supposed to be "above" joining in the games with his men. He resolves then and there to not give a damn if it's considered proper or not; he loves baseball, and during the long months of winter encampment they'll endure starting in December of January, it will be a welcome diversion- not to mention a way to keep warm.

He wonders whether Scully has ever played baseball before. There's a decent chance that she has, if she's grown up with two brothers and is as much of a tomboy as she's said that she was. And if she's never played... well, he'll just have to teach her.

Another few minutes' ride brings Mulder into the encampment itself. He stops to ask the colonel of each regiment where the Third Brigade is currently encamped, and before too long, he spies the red Maltese Cross of his brigade fluttering in the breeze above headquarters. Mulder decides to stop for a moment and see Colonel Skinner, before he continues on to his own regiment. He tells himself, firmly, that he's only doing it to make sure that his superior knows that he's returned, and to see if there is anything that he needs to know about, any upcoming orders that he'll need to get his men ready to carry out.

It's not because he's putting off seeing Scully again. Of course it's not.

Colonel Skinner is sitting under an awning in front of his tent, bent over a table with several members of his staff. He looks up as Mulder arrives and dismounts, then stands to return Mulder's salute.

"Welcome back, Colonel Mulder," he says. "Is your family well?"

"They are, Sir," says Mulder. "I appreciate being given the time away to see them. Thank you for that." Skinner waves this off.

"It wasn't a problem at all. It's certainly not as though anything is going on around here, at the moment."

"Before I return to my regiment, Sir, might I ask how things are standing right now? Will we be moving out anytime soon, do you think?"

"Doesn't seem very likely," says Skinner, sitting back down in his chair. He gestures away south, in the direction of the Rappahannock River, lying out of sight some two or three miles away. "General Lee's got his entire army on the southern bank of the Rappahannock, and we're sitting over here on the other side... and it doesn't look as though anyone has any plans to do anything. For the moment, we're just waiting, running drills daily to keep the men occupied, and having our sharpshooters take it in turns to keep watch along the riverbank, especially at night." He turns back to Mulder. "And speaking of sharpshooters, where's your Lieutenant Scully? We'll need him to take his turn on the watch, if you can spare him for a bit. Didn't he go to Fredericksburg with you?"

"He did, but he left much earlier than I did," says Mulder, alarmed. "You haven't seen him back here yet?"

"No," says Skinner, "but I've been close to my tent all morning. For all I know, he's waiting for you with the rest of your men." Mulder nods.

"If that's all, Sir, I'll be getting back to my regiment," he says, and Skinner returns his salute and waves him away. Mulder salutes, climbs back up on his horse, and continues on until at last, he spies the regimental colors of the Eighty-Third Pennsylvania.

The men who are gathered in his regiment's camp send up a loud cheer as he rides through, which he acknowledges, with not a small amount of discomfort. He doesn't feel quite right accepting praise from the entire regiment, not just yet, not before he's led them into battle and has proven himself to be capable of having command of so many men. But still, he waves back as the men salute him and call out to him, all the while keeping a sharp eye out for Scully's distinctive red hair.

By the time that he's reached the tent that his men have pitched for him, however, Scully is still nowhere to be found, and Mulder is becoming genuinely concerned. Scully had said that she was returning directly to the regiment, he recalls, but it's not outside the realm of possibility that she had changed her mind and had decided to spend the week elsewhere, instead. But where would she go? The roads aren't safe for anyone riding alone, not with bands of robbers and brigands waiting to attack the unaware.

His stomach gives a sudden, awful lurch when it occurs to him that, in the course of a highway robbery, Scully's attackers could discover, all too easily, the secret that she's managed to keep hidden from the entire Union army. And if that were to happen, the danger would not just be to whatever meager valuables and money she might have stashed away in her haversack. He resolves that, if Scully hasn't shown up within the hour, he will send runners to the other regiments to find out if anyone has seen her. Her hair, thankfully, makes her easy for people to remember.

And if she hasn't shown up by nightfall, Mulder will ride out in search of her himself.

Mulder dismounts and hands his horse off to be wiped down and fed. He ducks into his tent and discovers, much to his surprise, that a cot has been placed inside. He thinks that he remembers seeing one in Skinner's tent, when he had been colonel of the regiment, so maybe it had just taken some time for one to be located for him. Whatever the reason, he's glad of its presence now, and throwing his haversack to the ground, he sinks down onto the cot with a groan. It's a far cry from his accommodations of the past week, but it's a solid step above sleeping on the ground, so he'll take it.

The tent flap is suddenly thrown back, and Mulder sits upright with a start. Scully is standing just outside, peering in, squinting in the lower light. Mulder's gut unclenches at the sight of her, and his relief is strong enough to leave him light-headed.

"Permission to enter, Sir?" Scully asks stiffly, and inwardly, Mulder grimaces at the formality.

"Of course you can come in, Scully," he says. "It's your tent, too."

"Not officially," she says, but all the same, she steps inside, allowing the flap of canvas to fall closed behind her. She raises her eyebrows at the cot, and Mulder ducks his head sheepishly.

"I didn't request this, I promise," he says. "It was all set up when I got here a few minutes ago. I'll have a word with Colonel Skinner and see if I can get you one, as well."

"No, don't," Scully says. "That would likely raise a few eyebrows. Lieutenants don't usually sleep on cots, do they?"

"I don't think so," admits Mulder. "Well, you can take this one, then. I don't mind sleeping on the ground."

"It's your cot, Mulder. You're the senior officer. Why would you give it to me?"

"Because I'm a gentleman, and it's the polite thing to do," Mulder says. "Isn't it?" Scully narrows her eyes at him.

"Not when the person you're offering the better sleeping arrangement to is your subordinate," she says. She lowers her voice. "This is the sort of thing I was talking about, when I said you might treat me differently."

"But still," Mulder protests, "I don't feel right about it. At the very least, we should trade off nights." Scully sighs.

"If I agree, will you promise to shut up about the damn cot?" she asks, rolling her eyes. "I've been back at camp for all of five minutes, and already you're making me wish that I'd just deserted, instead." Mulder's heart sinks... but then he sees the glint of mischief in Scully's eyes. He grins at her, relieved.

"Fine, we trade off nights," he agrees. Scully nods and drops her gear next to Mulder's, then sits down beside him on the cot. "Where'd you go, Scully?" Mulder asks her. "You told me that you were returning to the regiment, but Colonel Skinner says he never saw you come back." Scully ducks her head.

"I didn't," she admits. "I started riding back the way we'd come, but...." She sighs. "I needed some time to cool down, after I left Fredericksburg, and I wasn't ready to come back and face the regiment, and have to come up with some phony explanation about why I wasn't still with you and your family." She glances up at him. "What did you tell them, by the way?"

"I said that we had a rider in the night, with a message calling you away," Mulder says. "I left it at that. Samantha was disappointed when you were gone at breakfast, I'll tell you that much."

"I'm sorry that I didn't get to spend more time with her," Scully says. "I feel like she and I were getting along really well." She twists her fingers awkwardly in her lap. "Mulder, I feel like I owe you an apology," she says. "Those were some terrible accusations that I was throwing around, and I shouldn't have said anything unless I knew for sure what was going on."

Mulder opens his mouth to tell her about what had happened, that last night... and stops. He's suddenly reluctant to share what happened between him and Diana last night, and it's only in part- a small part- because he doesn't like admitting that he might have been wrong.

While it's true that Mulder doesn't want to prejudice Scully against Diana more than she already is, if it turns out that the conversation in the alleyway- as well as last night's events- were innocent, it just feels... wrong, somehow, to tell Scully what had nearly happened in his bedroom last night. And it's not just because Scully is a woman; after all, hadn't they touched on the subject of intimacy briefly, right after their arrival in Fredericksburg? One way or another, Diana's advances are not something he wants to share with her, just now. He goes with a different tack, instead.

"I owe you an apology as well, Scully," he tells her. "You were right about one thing: Diana could have been a good deal more welcoming than she was, and I should have stepped up and said something to her about it."

"It could have made your visit less pleasant," Scully counters. "She didn't have any warning that I would be there, after all."

"Well, my visit was less pleasant anyway, because you weren't there," Mulder says, and Scully ducks her head, blushing. "And maybe if I had just taken the time to explain her a little bit better, you wouldn't have been so upset by the way she acted. Diana's... she's used to getting what she wants, used to having things done the way she wants them to be. I'm not saying that it's an excuse, but she's always been easily upset when plans change at the last second. I should have written ahead that you were coming with me, and I'm sorry that I didn't." He reaches out, tentatively, and covers her hand on the cot with his own. "Do you think that you can find it in your heart to forgive me?" She smiles at him, still blushing. He's charmed by the way that her freckles stand out against the pink of her cheeks.

"If you can forgive me for jumping to such offensive conclusions about your fiancee," she says.

"Scully, there's nothing to forgive," he tells her, and he means it. "You were only looking out for me, the way that you're supposed to do- as my lieutenant, and as my friend." They sit in silence a moment longer, and Mulder discovers that he doesn't want to take his hand away from Scully's. She doesn't seem in any great hurry to move, either, and so they sit quietly on the cot, not holding hands, exactly, but enjoying the connection.

"So... you never told me where you went, when you left Fredericksburg," Mulder reminds her.

"Nowhere special, really," says Scully. "For maybe half an hour, right after leaving, the idea honestly did cross my mind to just ride north, to go home and give this up, whatever happens." Mulder turns to face her fully, alarmed, and she twists her hand upwards so that they're properly holding hands, and gives his fingers a reassuring squeeze. "I decided against that pretty quickly, though. Aside from not being ready to face my mother just yet, I knew that if I left the regiment, there would be a decent chance that you and I might never see each other again."

"Not to mention, the lovely Dr. Waterston would be waiting to force a ring on your finger and drag you straight to the chapel," Mulder points out. Scully, however, looks skeptical.

"In all honesty, Mulder, I'm not sure that Daniel would still be interested in marrying me, if he found out where I've been for the past six or seven months," she confesses. "He would be absolutely scandalized by my spending all of this time in the company of men. I'm sure that he would believe my virtue to be absolutely beyond retrieval." She grins. "And that's not even getting into all of the excellent swear words I've picked up, sitting around the cooking fires." Mulder laughs.

"So you think that you'll be free of him, then?" he asks. "When you do eventually go home?" She nods.

"I think so, yes," she says. "Although, as I'm sure my mother will be quick to point out, there likely won't be a single man in all of West Chester- or in all of Philadelphia, no doubt- that will be interested in marrying a woman who has just finished spending God knows how many years in the constant company of soldiers."

"Then every last man in West Chester and in Philadelphia is a fool, and not a single one of them is worthy of you," says Mulder, before he can stop himself.

If Scully had been blushing before, it's nothing compared to the shade of red that she's turning now. She looks up and meets his gaze, her blue eyes shining, and the slow, sweet smile that plays across her lips transforms her entire face into something truly lovely... and for the first time, Mulder becomes fully aware of one very important fact.

Dana Scully is beautiful.

Reluctantly, Mulder forces himself to let go of her hand, and he stands, putting some space between them before he does something that will either get him slapped or make their situation complicated beyond all comprehension. Scully, he would like to believe, looks slightly disappointed, but she hides it quickly.

"Thank you, Mulder," she says. "Your opinion means a great deal to me." He chuckles.

"It shouldn't," he says ruefully. "Not when I'm allowing my family to believe that I'll marry someone who's treated my best friend so shamefully." Scully frowns.

"Why wouldn't your family believe that, if you and Diana are engaged?" she asks, confused.

"Because we're not, not officially," Mulder says, even as he's mentally kicking himself for telling her this. He and Scully, he's beginning to realize, are going to need a great deal of self-control to make it through the war without doing something that truly would be cause for scandal, and allowing her to think that he's engaged would probably have been the wiser choice. He knows her well enough to be fairly certain that she would never allow anything improper to happen between herself and another woman's prospective husband. But he's already gone this far, so he might as well explain.

"It's more or less assumed that one day, Diana and I will marry," he says. "We've always been close friends, from the time that she came to live with Charles Spender... and I guess that to my parents- to most people, probably- if an unmarried boy and an unmarried girl are that close, it's because they plan to wed, eventually, when they're old enough. My parents and Charles Spender love the idea; it would mean the consolidation of both of their families' fortunes. And Diana...." He shrugs. "Well, I'm pretty sure that she was hoping I would have proposed by the time I left Fredericksburg today."

"But you didn't?" Scully asks, and he shakes his head.

"To be perfectly frank...." Don't, he tells himself, she doesn't need to know, but his rational mind seems to have taken a leave of absence, and he ploughs ahead recklessly. "In all honesty, Scully, I'm beginning to have second thoughts."

"You are?" asks Scully, in a tone somewhat more cheerful than what could be called appropriate for this sort of admission. She seems to realize this immediately, and adopts a more sober countenance. "Not just because of how she treated me, I hope. You were right that it was unfair of me to expect her to be completely welcoming without having any notice that I would be coming along with you."

"No, not because of that, necessarily," Mulder replies, "though it's related to that, a little bit." He bites his lip, thinking. "Scully, you know that sometimes, I tend to be... impulsive, wouldn't you say?" Scully laughs.

"Sometimes, Mulder?" She chuckles, shaking her head. "I'd say that's a bit of an understatement, wouldn't you?" He grins sheepishly.

"All right, most of the time," he concedes. "I don't mind when the plan gets shot to hell at the last second, and I honestly enjoy improvising, doing things spur of the moment. And I just got to thinking, this week... what would it be like, for someone who dislikes surprises and always prefers to know, ahead of time, exactly how everything is going to be, to end up married to someone as impulsive as I am?" Scully seems to be thinking this over.

"It doesn't seem like the perfect recipe for domestic bliss," she says. "But do you really think that Diana hasn't had these same doubts? If she's known you for this long, your penchant for doing things spur of the moment can't have escaped her notice."

"No, it hasn't," says Mulder. "But I think that Diana might be operating under the age-old assumption that marriage is going to change me, make me more level-headed and less attracted to excitement." Scully looks at him skeptically.

"So you're saying that she's in love with the man she wants you to become, as opposed to the man that you actually are?"

"Well, to be honest, she's never told me that she loves me," Mulder admits. "So maybe she's not worried about love, one way or the other."

"I can't imagine marrying someone that I didn't love," says Scully. "I mean... I know that it's relatively common, I know that plenty of marriages are arranged, or are a matter of convenience, but... I just can't fathom placing all of my chances for my future happiness on the hope that being married will change traits that are essential to who my husband truly is." With a sigh, she stands. "Listen," she says, picking up her things again. "I'm supposed to be down by the riverbank in about a half hour, all right?" Mulder frowns.

"What for?" he asks.

"I'm in the rotation for guard duty," Scully explains. "The colonel of the Forty-Fourth New York made the rounds at the beginning of the week, I'm told, and said that all sharpshooters are required to take a turn on the picket lines."

"How long?" Mulder asks.

"I should be relieved and back back by supper, I think," Scully answers, and Mulder nods.

"Be careful, all right?" he advises her. "Stay awake. No distractions." Scully rolls her eyes.

"Of course, because I'm the one who needs to be told things like that," she says. "Do you think that you can manage to keep yourself out of trouble for the rest of the afternoon while I'm gone?" Mulder scowls at her, but underneath, he's fighting off a smile. His fear that he and Scully might have lost this over Diana, this easy rapport between them, has been consuming him since the night she had ridden off in anger, and discovering that they're going to be all right is a relief beyond comparison.

"Listen, I was doing just fine all on my own before you showed up in this regiment to torment me," he tells her, and she grins.

"You just keep on telling yourself that, Mulder. I'll see you at supper tonight, all right?" And with a final wave, she ducks back out of the tent and is gone. Mulder returns to his new cot and flops back down onto the stretched, waxed canvas with a groan.

Just what is he getting himself into?