#first date MSR

[h4msanta]

i like to think they could finally be together happily outside of sibyl's reach

[freckleslikestars]

Check

Thank you lovely!

Mulder takes Scully on a date.

422 words, read here on AO3

They’re in a restaurant, his choosing this time, and it’s more than slightly nicer than their usual fair, with a candle and flowers in the centre of the table and jazz playing quietly on the speakers. He orders a bottle of wine with the justification that they’ve closed the case, and they’re technically off duty, and tells her she can have anything she wants when she hesitates before ordering a salad. Off his look, she changes her order to pan-seared salmon, quirks an eyebrow when he orders himself a steak. Not within the Bureau’s usual budget, but she assumes he’ll justify it on their expense report with some bullshit about the local diner in the town being closed for renovations or something.

She frowns at him when he suggests dessert, and he shrugs it off with the offer of sharing, perhaps the cheesecake? And because she can’t resist the impish smile on his face, she nods, blushing when he takes one bite and then spends the rest of dessert drinking her in as she relished the tart bite of passionfruit mellowed by the sweet, creamy cheesecake.

It’s not until he presents not the Bureau card, but his own personal one, with the arrival of the check, that she realises that this is a date.

He blushes when she asks, avoids her eyes as she beams at him, ducks his head as they walk, side by side, out of the restaurant.

She clears her throat and stops, just on the edge of the warm glow spilling from the bay windows of the restaurant, waits for him to turn and look at her, and when he does, she pushes up onto tiptoe and presses a tender kiss to his coarse jawbone. Their cheeks are flushed, whether from the wine or the chill of the air or their shyness, and they step away from one another, standing in silence for a moment, before she smiles up at him, ‘thank you, Mulder.’

He shrugs and proffers his arm out to her, smiling softly as she takes it, and they slowly make their way towards their motel, a comfortable, companionable silence settling over them until they reached her door.

‘It was a beautiful dinner.’

‘It was.’

‘Maybe we could do it again sometime,’ she says quietly, and he nods.

‘I’d like that.’

‘Goodnight, Mulder.’

‘Goodnight, Scully,’ he presses a kiss to the corner of her lips and waits until her door is closed before heading into his own room, unable to wipe the smile off his face.

Tagging @today-in-fic

Send me one word prompts to break through my writers block

[atths--twice]

Chapter Two

Chemistry 101- A Study In Organic Interactions

Mulder and Scully have made plans for a first date after their school trip to the forest. What will be on the agenda?

Mulder took a deep breath as he walked up the stairs to Scully’s dorm room, his hands sweaty and his mouth suddenly dry. He willed his body to calm down before he arrived at her door. 

They had been talking on the phone for the past few days and every conversation they had was better than the last. Her sense of humor was wickedly funny and she was wonderfully intelligent. 

One night, he had found a late night movie he had seen many times. As he had it playing in the background at a low volume, she excitedly found the same movie and suggested he turn it on and they could watch it together. He had smiled and agreed, not telling her he was already watching it. He had not paid any attention to the movie, however, choosing instead to listen to her talk about the movie. He knew it by heart and hearing about her favorite parts had made him smile. 

Thursday they had been in class together, the majority of which was spent discussing the weekend they had all spent together. She had smiled at him a lot, rolling her eyes when Kyle and Brian spoke about what they had liked, even going so far as to ask if falling in the mud had been a favorite moment for him. He had glared at her as everyone else had laughed and she had shrugged her shoulders. 

When class was over, Hannah had pulled her away before they could talk, following after Craig and laughing. She had looked back at him and mimed calling him and he had nodded, his heart pounding and hands sweaty. Even after the weekend and all the time they spent speaking on the phone, seeing her in person still made him feel nervous. 

When his phone had rung that night, she had apologized for running out earlier and he had asked her out to dinner. Silence ran down the phone line, as he had waited, listening to her breathing. 

“Well… I wasn’t expecting that as a response to my apology, but to your question, my answer is… finally.” 

“Is that a yes?” 

“No. It’s a hell yes.” 

He had grinned and punched the air, before they settled on Saturday evening for their first date. 

Now as he approached her door, he let out a deep breath, nervous and excited for the date. Taking another steadying breath, he knocked on her door and waited, wiping his hands on his pants. 

The door flew open and before he could utter a word, she grabbed his shirt and pulled him into the room. He stumbled and looked back at her, as she stuck her head out of the door, looking left and right down the hall. She closed the door and hurriedly walked past him to the window, looking through the blinds. 

“Did anyone see you coming in here?” she asked, glancing back at him. He stood there dumbstruck, not knowing how to respond to her question. “Mulder? Did anyone see you?” 

“I… I don’t think so… I didn’t see anyone,” he answered truthfully. 

“We’re not allowed to have men in our dorm, or even on the floor.” She checked out the window again and then closed the blinds. 

“What? Oh my god. I… I had no idea. I could have waited for you outside. If you had said…” He stopped as he saw the smile slowly crossing her face. “Oh… you’re… you’re joking with me?” She shrugged and he exhaled a nervous breath, shaking his head, as she laughed. 

“I thought it would be a funny icebreaker.” 

“Yeah… hilarious.” 

“I knew it would be,” she said with a grin. “I just need to put on my shoes and we can get going. Have a seat,” she said, gesturing towards a desk as she grabbed a pair of black Converse and sat on a bed. 

He sat down at the desk and looked around the room. There were two beds, each with different bedding. A large light blue rug was between the beds and each side of the room had the same identical desks. Her roommate, Kimberly, whom he had heard speaking to her as they spoke on the phone one night, seemed to be more messy, her desk piled with papers and books, while Scully’s was tidy. 

There were two dressers and two small closets with storage space above. It was decorated minimally and the overall feeling of it was comfortable, which he appreciated as he calmed down from her little prank. 

He looked at her as she sat on the bed. She was wearing dark jeans and a black sweater with light pink, purple, and blue stripes. Her hair was down and falling forward as she tightened her laces and tied her shoes. 

“Okay! Ready!” She stood up and smiled, pushing her hair back and tucking it behind her ears. “What are you sitting around for?” 

“You’re just a regular comedian aren’t you?” he asked, as he stood up, smiling as she picked up her purse and placed it over her head and across her chest. 

“I am pretty funny.” 

“Hmm,” he hummed, unable to stop smiling as he headed toward the door. 

“Wait,” she said softly and he turned around. She stepped closer to him and put her hand on his arm, staring into his eyes. 

Pushing up on tiptoes, she kissed him and he pulled back in surprise. Staring at her, he bent his head and kissed her again, softly and slightly longer than the first one. 

“Good,” she whispered with a smile. “I didn’t want to miss it this time.” He laughed nervously and nodded, putting his hands in his pockets, his heart racing. 

Taking a jacket from her closet, she laid it over her arm and smiled at him, as she cleared her throat softly. He nodded again and stepped back so she could walk out the door first. 

“Keep an eye out for any resident advisors,” she said as she locked the door. “We may need to make a run for it.” 

“Nope, not falling for that again,” he said as they walked down the hall and down the stairs to his car. 

“Well, I’ll have to think of something else then,” she teased as he opened the car door for her. 

“Bring it on,” he said with a shrug and she grinned. 

“Oh. I will.” 

Driving away from her dorm room, he could not stop smiling. The fact that she was with him and would be for the next few hours, filled him with happiness. Already he was feeling less tongue tied and comfortable. 

It was nearly sunset, his favorite time of day. Glancing over at her, he saw that she was smiling, and the beauty of the day could not compare to the happiness he saw on her face.

“So I was thinking,” she said, looking at him, and breaking into his thoughts. 

“Oh yeah, what about?”

“Well, ever since you told me the story of Maurice and Lyda, I’ve been thinking about it.” 

“Oh you mean the cursed house on Larkspur Lane?”

“Wait. The cursed house? Cursed? It’s not enough that it’s haunted, it has to be cursed too?” she teased and he smiled.

“Well, I mean…” He made a scale weighing motion with his hands and she laughed with a shrug.

“Are you comparing a curse to a haunting? Because, well, I’d have to say that the two are very different,” she stated, running her fingers through her hair. 

“Please elaborate,” he said with a grin and she nodded with a smile.

“Well, being a layman- or laywoman- my explanation may not be up to scratch compared to yours, but I’ll give it a shot.” She smiled at him again and he slowed down at a stop sign, nearly going through it as he stared at her. 

Quickly glancing around and finding that no cars were approaching, he raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to continue. She licked her lips and bit the bottom one before smiling at him and taking his breath away.

“So, by my way of thinking, and I am pretty intelligent, if I do say so myself,” she said, with a shrug. “A haunted house tends to indicate that there is the potential of spirits or ghosts, but a cursed house… well, that just implies scary twins in a hallway, an elevator full of blood, and a dead naked woman in a bathtub. I mean that just screams cursed as opposed to haunted.” She raised her eyebrows back at him and smiled.

He shook his head slowly and had to physically stop himself from kissing her thoroughly. She tilted her head and he nodded with a smile.

“Does that explanation suffice?” she asked, twirling her hair in her fingers. He could smell her shampoo and he took a deep breath, breathing it in. 

“Yeah, it’ll suffice,” he said and she bit her lip again, staring into his eyes. She started to lean toward him and a horn honked behind them, causing them to jump and then laugh.

He cleared his throat and turned left, heading to the restaurant he had picked for dinner. As they pulled up, she sighed and he looked over at her.

“Did you want to go somewhere different?” he asked and she looked at him, sighing again. “You want to go check out the house, don’t you?”

Her eyes widened and she actually stuck out her bottom lip in a pout.  He laughed and nodded, putting the car in reverse and backing up.

“Yes…” she breathed and he laughed again. She looked at him and grinned as he shook his head.

“You tell me you don’t believe in ghosts or ghost stories and yet you want to go explore a haunted house.”

“A seemingly haunted house,” she said, giving him a look. “And one that just so happens to be close by.”

“So, what? You want to prove me wrong?” he teased and she shrugged with a smile. “Okay, let’s go check out the house.” Again she said yes under her breath and he laughed.

They were quiet as they drove over, comfortably quiet. The fact that she was there, that he could smell her shampoo and perfume, that she had kissed him, and nearly had done so again, made him unable to stop smiling. 

It was not far to the house, a place he had driven to a few times, his own curiosity piqued by the idea of it. Turning down the street, he glanced at her as they approached the house. Stopping the car, he parked and shut it off, and they sat in silence as they stared at it. 

“This is it?” she asked after a few seconds and he nodded. She looked out the windshield and grinned. He smiled as he watched her, the house in his peripheral. “Well, it does have a spooky feel to it, but that’s probably because I know it has a story behind it. Any other time, I wouldn’t have looked at it twice.”

She unbuckled her seatbelt and opened her door. Scrambling after her, he felt his heart pounding. He had never gotten out of the car before, nor been this close to the house. 

“Wait!” he called out to her and she turned around.

“What? Don’t you want to see if it’s actually haunted?” She smiled and he sighed, looking at the house. “I mean, I know you said it was just on Christmas, but shouldn’t we check? Just to be sure?”

“It’s just…”

“Oh,” she said, her eyes shining. “You’re scared.”

“Pfft. Scared? Hardly.” He shook his head, glancing at the house.

“You are! Oh my God, that’s so cute,” she said, stepping closer to him as she folded her hands by her mouth, and grinning adorably. 

“It’s not that I’m scared,” he said with a deep sigh. “I just, okay fine… I… I am a little scared.” She giggled, covering her mouth, trying to hold it in, as he shook his head with a sigh. “It’s an irrational fear, but…” 

She moved her hand and nodded, looking at him with a smile. Glancing at the house and back at him she nodded again. 

“So, we won’t go inside. We could just… walk around the perimeter? Peek in the windows?” she asked and he smiled with a relieved sigh. 

Stepping back, she nodded again and then glanced down, her eyes seeming to land on his hand. Looking back up at him, she made to step towards the house, but he stopped her with a touch on her arm. She stared as he moved his hand down to grasp hers, giving her a nervous smile, as she bit her lip. Giving her hand a squeeze, they walked up to the house. 

”Question,” she said as they arrived at the front door. “You said Maurice and Lyda died in 1917.” She looked at him and he frowned with a nod. “1917. And yet, the house looks nearly perfect and it’s been over 60 years. How is that possible? Do they have a caretaker? Why has this place been kept at all? I mean, a big place like this…” She gestured and he looked around at the house and the grounds.

“Good questions, all,” he said with a grin and squeezed her hand again.

“I mean, it seems like a strange thing to keep a house like this, with no one living in it and… what?” she asked, looking at him in confusion.

“Live here? Would you want to live here?” he asked with a smile. She stared at him and then grinned wickedly.

“Well, I know you wouldn’t,” she retorted and he raised his eyebrows.

“You’re damn right,” he said with a shudder and she giggled.

Letting go of his hand, they walked around, looking in the windows and exclaiming over the way it appeared to be in very good repair, considering the amount of time it had been sitting there uninhabited. He had actually been imagining a classic type haunted house setting: one full of cobwebs, broken windows and ripped billowing curtains. 

“It looks... okay. Safe even. Sure you don’t want to go inside?” she asked, as they stood by the front door, her hand on the door knob. She raised an eyebrow at him and he shook his head with a grin. 

“Fine,” she sighed, moving her hand and smiling. “Next time, I get to tell the interesting story.” 

“Hey, you asked me for a story,” he countered and she laughed.

“To be fair though, I didn’t expect a story that would be true or at a place that is practically in our backyard. How could we not come out and investigate it, even if you’re too scared to go inside?” She raised her eyebrows with a smirk. 

He stared at her, shaking his head at the happiness he saw on her face every time she teased him. He smiled and nodded. 

“Okay, you’re on. Although, I don’t know if any story you tell could top… Jesus Christ!” he yelled and jumped back, her laughter ringing nearly as loudly as the door just had. 

“Oh… you are so easy,” she said between fits of giggles. 

Shaking his head, he looked at her hand on the door knob where he had not noticed she had placed it again. His gaze had been on her and he had not seen her reach out for it. While he was distracted, she took advantage and shook the door violently; the sound scaring the absolute shit out of him. 

She laughed and then let out a satisfied sigh, staring at him with a huge smile. Despite the fact that she had nearly scared him to death, he had an overwhelming desire to kiss her. He worried it would seem too forward, regardless that they had already done so. 

Licking her lips, she stepped closer and then bit her bottom one, staring at his own. The scent of her shampoo blew in the breeze and he felt his knees buckle slightly, propelling him forward.

She placed her hand lightly on his chest and he gripped her elbow as their lips met in a soft kiss. She clenched his shirt as he kissed her twice, the tip of her tongue touching his, causing him to pull back, both of them breathing hard.

She pressed her lips together, her eyes closed as she took a deep breath.

“You’re a really good kisser, Fox Mulder,” she breathed, opening her eyes slowly as she smiled.

“I… thank you,” he said, clearing his throat, and taking a deep breath. 

“I can’t be the first person to have told you that,” she said with a smile staring at him, her head tilted to the side.

“Umm…  I haven’t dated much, to be completely honest with you.” 

“You don’t have to “date” to kiss someone,” she said, crossing her arms and smiling at him. “There are parties and… games…” 

“Not really the places you would find me.”

“You? The country club boy?” she asked, stepping past him and going down the stairs. “I find it hard to believe you’ve never found a hidden corner for a bit of debauchery at those cotillions you told me about.”

“Debauchery?” He stopped walking and stared at her. “What do you think goes on at those parties?”

“I don’t know. I’m not a country club girl.” She grabbed a handful of her hair, bringing it over her shoulder, twisting it as she shrugged.

“Debauchery…” he said again, taking his car keys from his pocket. “It sounds so dark and seedy.”

“All those women in jewels and fancy dresses, with a young Fox Mulder in their sights… ” She shrugged again and he shook his head. He knew she was just teasing, but he also did not want her to have the wrong idea about him.

“Nah. No debauchery for me.”

“Well, I’m sure there are many women who are sorry to have missed out on some of that debauchery.” She smiled with that dimple showing, her hair still being twisted around her fingers, and he shook his head with a chuckle.

She walked to the passenger door and got in the car. Shaking his head again, he walked over and got in, starting the car and glancing at her.

“You’re a good… you... a good kisser too,” he said with a sigh. She turned to look at him and smiled slowly, her entire face lighting up.

“I know,” she replied and he raised his eyebrows at her.

“Ohhhhkay…” he said with a smile, drawing it out, as he put the car in reverse and backed up.

They got on the main road and he headed toward the restaurants in the college part of town, foregoing the original plan he had for dinner.

“Do you have a preference? I was thinking Italian, but I can go for whatever,” he asked, glancing at her at a stoplight.

“Italian sounds good,” she agreed. He nodded and when the light changed, he pulled into the parking area. 

They walked across the street and before they walked into Zona’s, the best Italian restaurant in the area, she stopped him with a hand on his arm, and a nervous look on her face. 

“I… I haven’t kissed that many men.”

“What?” he asked her in genuine confusion.

“You said I was a good kisser and I said I knew, which may have implied I had been told before, or I knew because I had kissed a lot of men and therefore they must enjoy kissing me, so I figured I was good at it.” She took a deep breath, her tumble of words coming to a halt. “I just… I didn’t want you to have the wrong impression of me.”

“Dana… Scully,” he said with a smile. “I… none of that was… that was the furthest thing from my mind.” She let out a sigh and smiled tightly. He put a hand on her upper arm and squeezed gently.

“No debauchery on my end either,” she said softly and he smiled. “But, if I had been at those country club parties with you, I think we may have changed that.”

“You would have terrified me,” he whispered, not realizing he said it out loud until her eyes widened. “Oh, I… I didn’t mean…” He stopped speaking as she smiled, the biggest one he had seen yet and his heart pounded hard in his chest.

“You have no idea,” she whispered back and he let out a shaky breath. She turned around and walked toward the restaurant, leaving him standing there feeling almost dizzy. 

How much more enjoyable those countless cotillions and holiday parties would have been with a redheaded young woman causing his heart to race, her blue eyes full of mischief as she looked for some hidden corner to drag him into…

“Mulder? Are we going to dinner or not?”

He looked up at her and grinned slowly, nodding his head as he joined her, opening the door of the restaurant and placing his hand on the small of her back as they stepped inside. 

______________

As they walked out of the restaurant, she reached for his hand and bumped her head lightly against his shoulder. He squeezed her hand and she looked up at him with a smile.

“So, where to next?” she asked and he smiled.

“How about some dessert?” He pointed towards an ice cream parlor and she nodded with a squeeze of his hand.

They walked into the shop and waited in the line of families who must have been visiting for the weekend with younger children running around excitedly with chocolate on their faces. 

“Which flavor will you choose?” he asked, looking up at the menu. 

“The answer to that question is always chocolate,” she said with a grin. “With hot fudge and whipped cream whenever possible.”

“So, I take it you like chocolate?” he teased and she nodded happily.

“No. I don’t like it. I love it,” she answered as she stepped forward and gave her order. Taking her wallet out of her purse, he stopped her with a shake of his head, and a hand on her arm. 

“You paid for dinner,” she argued and he shook his head again. “I also nearly scared you to death. The least I can do is pay for our ice creams.” She smiled and then scrunched her chin in such a cute way, he would have kissed her, if not for the large crowd of people bustling around them. 

“Okay,” he agreed quietly. “Although, I wasn’t that scared.” She gave him a look and raised an eyebrow at him.

“Order your ice cream, you liar.” She moved aside so he could step past her to the counter, shaking her head with a smile. 

Placing his order for butterscotch ice cream, with no toppings, she paid for their treats, watching as the ice cream was scooped and put into two large waffle cups. 

Picking them up, they walked past the families, Mulder grabbing a handful of napkins on the way and shoving them in his pocket as they headed outside to an empty table. 

It was warm out and many people were enjoying the evening. They were quiet as they ate their ice cream, looking around at fellow classmates, families, and children all sitting around in the spring air. 

Looking over at her, he saw she had chocolate on the corner of her mouth. Taking a napkin out of his pocket, he handed it to her and she took it with a smile. Wiping at her mouth, she missed the spot entirely. Chuckling, he shook his head and pointed at it. Foregoing the napkin, she ran her tongue along the corner of her mouth and then across her lips to the other corner, staring at him before wiping her mouth with a napkin. 

He swallowed hard, knowing how soft her lips were and remembering the feel of her tongue touching his briefly. Her eyes were on his and his heart raced as he thought of kissing her again.

“Did I get it?” she asked softly and he nodded, swallowing again. She smiled and put the napkin on the table, taking a bite of her ice cream. Letting out of breath, he shook his head and continued eating his as well.

When they were finished, they walked back to his car. As he opened the door for her, he paused and looked at her.

“I didn’t plan anything past this, not exactly sure what you would want to do besides dinner, and possibly dessert. Visiting a haunted house had not been on the planned agenda.”

“Or, was it cursed? We never went inside to find out for sure. Some of us were too scared.” She shrugged and he shook his head, giving her a half smile.

“What I’m trying to say is…” He took a deep breath and cleared his throat. “Unless you want, I’m not quite ready to take you home, but I don’t have anything planned and I don’t…” He stopped talking as she suddenly leaned forward and kissed him softly, grabbing a hold of his shirt and holding tightly.

This time as her tongue touched his, he did not pull back, but placed his hands on her hips and pulled her closer. His head began to spin at the sweet taste of the chocolate ice cream lingering in her mouth. Her hands began moving up to his neck, when he heard someone loudly clearing their throat, followed by an even louder “excuse me.”

He broke from their kiss, breathing hard, but not releasing his grip on her. Looking up, he saw a middle-aged man standing in front of the car parked beside his own. He raised his eyebrows and smiled at Mulder, nodding at his car. 

“Would you mind pausing for just a quick moment and allow me to get into my car?” he asked, his keys spinning on his finger.

Scully’s head fell onto his chest and he held onto her as he stepped back, allowing the man to close Mulder’s open passenger door, and get into his own car. Backing up, he smiled as he flashed them a peace sign, and drove away.

“That was so embarrassing,” she said, her voice muffled in his chest. Pulling back, she looked up at him, and he laughed bringing a hand up to cup her cheek.

“Doubt we’ll ever see him again, so who cares?” She licked her lips with a nod and he took a deep breath. “So… what do you say?” 

She reached up and kissed him softly before stepping back and tucking her hair behind her ears.

“I know it’s not too late, but I go with my family to mass on Sundays and then we go out to lunch. I have to be up early to get ready and then take the bus over to my parents house, so… it’s probably best if we call it a night.” She seemed almost nervous at her words and he did not like seeing her that way.

“I understand. Would you… I could maybe pick you up in the morning? Give you a ride over to your parents house?” He shrugged, offering but doubtful she would accept.

“Are you asking to join us for mass?”

“God, no!” he said with a scoffing laugh, until he saw her raised eyebrows and serious expression. “I mean… I’m not Catholic and I uh… church isn’t exactly my thing. I uh…”

“Oh,” she said, looking down. “I didn’t realize.”

His heart sank at the thought that maybe that was a dealbreaker for her. Maybe she wanted someone who was religious, or at least had some interest in it. As he opened his mouth to say he could at least try it, see what the hype was about, she looked up with a grin and he exhaled.

She got him again.

“You are so easy, Fox Mulder,” she whispered, shaking her head with a smile.

“Hmm,” he agreed with a chuckle, opening her door and stepping back. She rubbed his arm as she got in the car and he walked around to the other side. As he started the car, he looked at her and smiled. 

“Well, how about a ride over tonight? Then you don’t have to get up so early. Or take the bus.”

“You would do that? Really?” She stared at him, searching his face.

“Yeah,” he said with a shrug. “Like I said, I don’t exactly want to take you home just yet.” She smiled and reached for his hand.

“Okay then. I accept your offer.”

“Good,” he laughed, squeezing her hand, backing up the car one-handed. 

___________

Walking into her dorm room, he waited as she gathered her things to stay the night at her parents: a couple of bags of dirty laundry, her backpack, a dress and cardigan on a hanger, and a pair of low heels.

Handing him the bags of laundry, she put her backpack on, laid her dress over her arm, hung the heels from her fingers, and grabbed a toiletry bag. Giving him a nod, they walked out the door, and she locked it behind them.

Putting all of her things in the backseat, they got in the car and headed to her parents house. She fiddled with the radio, finding a station she liked, quietly humming along with the song.

Glancing at her, he smiled before looking back at the road. He had fun with her tonight, a lot of fun. They could have done it a while ago, if he had not been so awkward with women and afraid to make a move. What a fool he had been, missing out on spending time with her.

“I had fun tonight,” she said, the song ending as she turned to look at him with a smile, almost as though she could read his mind.

“Me too,” he grinned, reaching for her hand. 

“Turn left and then take the second right,” she said, squeezing his hand. He followed her directions and stopped when she pointed to the Cape Cod style house on the left.

Parking the car, he shut off the engine and turned to look at her with a smile. She smiled back and then bit her lip as she stared at him.

They both leaned forward at the same time, his hand cupping her cheek and moving to her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair as they kissed. Her hand was on his mid thigh and the kiss deepened, unable to control himself. 

“Ohhh…” she exhaled, pulling back and breathing hard, her hand moving to his knee. He was breathing hard too, his fingers still in her hair. 

“Hmm,” she hummed, letting out her breath and shaking her head. “I should go inside. I think that’s enough debauchery for one night.” Giving his knee a squeeze, she pulled back further and licked her lips. 

Letting go of her hair, he pulled back too, opening the door and getting out to grab her bags of laundry. She gathered the things on her side and they walked quietly up the brick walkway, mindful of the late hour. Up three steps, they stood in front of the door where he set her bags down and smiled at her. 

“So, I guess I’ll talk to you on Monday?”

“Why not tomorrow?”

“You said you’d be at church and then lunch with your family,” he reminded her. “I don’t want to infringe on that and besides, I don’t have your parent’s phone number.” He smiled as he raised his eyebrows. 

Laying her dress on the railing and setting her shoes down beside it, she took off her backpack. Searching inside, she found a pen, and set it down. 

Reaching for his right hand, she wrote: Scully home- 555-6627 and then drew a small heart beside it. She blew on the ink to dry it and that simple act shot desire straight through him. 

“I usually stay over on Sundays, because I don’t have classes on Monday, and it gives me time to do my laundry,” she said quietly, staring at him as she still held onto his hand. “You have the number here now. I don’t want to wait until Monday to talk to you.” 

She let go of his hand and capped the pen, putting it back inside of her backpack. He nodded with a smile as she put her backpack on again, and picked up her dress and shoes. She reached inside her purse and took out her keys, staring at him, her eyes intense.

“I really like you,” she whispered and he grinned.

“We have that in common,” he whispered back.

“You really like yourself?” 

He laughed quietly, shaking his head at her quick wit. “I do, but I obviously meant you, smart ass.”

“Hmm,” she hummed with a smile.

They stared at one another, the quiet of the night settling around them, until her watch beeped, announcing it was midnight.

“Time to head inside Cinderella. It’s getting late and you're literally holding a pair of heels. Don’t want to tempt fate and lose one.” He grinned and she looked down at the black heels swinging from her fingers. 

“Seems like your task to find me would be pretty easy if I did, you’re literally standing right here in front of me.” 

“Are you implying that I’m your Prince Charming?” 

“Depends. I know you know how to dance, but do they teach you country club boys how to wield a sword?” 

“I learned in fencing class, yeah.” 

She stared at him, her face running a gamut of emotions and expressions, her mouth opening and closing. Until he smiled at her and she laughed softly as she shook her head. 

He finally got her. 

“All right, don’t look so smug,” she said with another shake of her head. “You had me going, but I’m definitely in the lead.” 

“For now,” he told her, picking up her laundry bags with a smirk. 

She took the cue and unlocked the door, pushing it open quietly, as she turned to look at him. He set the bags just inside on the floor and turned back at her.

“We’ll have to start keeping a tally,” she whispered and he nodded. “Thank you for tonight and the ride over here.” Stepping closer to him, she placed a hand on his chest and kissed him softly one time, leaving him leaning in for more. 

Pulling her closer, one hand on her hip, the other on her neck, he kissed her again, his tongue softly grazing hers as she gripped his shirt and leaned closer. One more and he pulled back, his thumb moving in small circles on her hip. 

“Goodnight,” he whispered, his forehead resting against hers. 

“Uhhh… mm-hmm,” she murmured, stepping back, and breathing hard. “A really… really good kisser. Whew...” She shook her head and stumbled dazedly through the door. He smiled as he watched the effect his kiss had on her, knowing how it affected him. 

“Huh,” she breathed, turning around and staring at him. “Gonna spend some extra time in the confessional tomorrow.” He raised his eyebrows and she smiled wickedly. “Totally worth it.” He chuckled and nodded. 

“Completely agree.” 

“Goodnight, Mulder,” she said, shaking her head and humming again. “Use that number you were given.” He glanced down at his hand and then looked up at her with a nod. “Goodnight.” 

“Goodnight… Scully.” 

The door closed softly and he heard the lock click, before he walked off the porch and back down the walkway to his car.

Turning around when he got to the door, he saw her at the window, the curtains pulled back. Waving to him with a shake of her head and a smile, she closed the curtains and he got in the car with a smile of his own.

Before he drove away, he looked at his hand and took a pen out of the glove box, writing the number down on a scrap of paper, not wanting to forget it or chance it smearing. He copied it just as she had written it, including the small darkly penned open heart. 

Once it was copied down, he put the pen back and placed the paper on the passenger seat. He started the car with a final glance at the house. Not seeing her there, he drove away, with a chuckle. 

He grinned the entire drive home, replaying the date in his mind. Her smile, the shine of her eyes, her laughter, the scent of her hair, and the intoxicating taste of her kiss.

Pulling into his parking space, he picked up the slip of paper with her parents phone number on it and headed inside. Dropping his keys on the counter, he walked into his room to get ready for bed. 

Lying down a few minutes later, the paper with the phone number on his nightstand, he traced the now faint heart on his hand, remembering the feel of the pen pressing into his skin, and her soft breath blowing across it as she made sure the ink was dry. 

Closing his eyes, he turned onto his side and took a deep breath. He suddenly remembered something she said, and his eyes flew open. She did not have classes on Monday. And neither did he. 

Maybe we could have lunch at the country club. Or perhaps take a fencing class, he thought with a smile and a chuckle, thinking of what she would say if he told her that was the plan. 

No, he thought, the perfect idea coming to him. The yacht club. 

Wouldn’t she tease him mercilessly once she learned they were also members at a yacht club?  But some of his favorite summers had been spent there. First learning to sail and then teaching others. 

The yacht club… yeah that could be fun. He had not sailed in awhile, but it was like riding a bike. Maybe that was something she would enjoy. 

Hell, her family are Navy people, he thought with a laugh. She might be able to sail better than me.

Tiredness beginning to set in, he closed his eyes with a yawn, and shook his head. Tomorrow. Tomorrow he would suggest a day of sailing and see what she had to say. Hopefully she would be keen to get out on the water.

That night he dreamt he was on a boat, the warmth of the sun shining down on him and the glassy water. He smiled as he looked to his left and found Scully sitting beside him, smiling with happiness. Her long hair was like fire in the sunlight as she reached for his hand, and the wind caught the sail and her laughter danced in the breeze. 

[pookie-mulder]

October 2024 fic roundup

👶☑️ Beginnings by @television-overload

The most perfect follow-up to Of Our Own Making! Seeing m&s fall in love and go on their first date AFTER getting married and having a child together is just precious. (Especially Mulder’s “will u go out with me” note!) I love their unconventional relationship so much.

🐓🍽️ Untitled by @aloysiavirgata

This little fic is hilarious! I love Mulder getting the chance to be subtly petty towards Bill. I also love to see MSR being so domestic and settled down in the unremarkable house.

blue prints by @foxmulders

(Couldn’t find an ao3 link to this one)

Oof. This one hurts in the best way. It’s everything you want for these characters that they never got to have. It’s fluff, but it feels like angst because it’s a reminder of what the Mulder-Scully family could have been. I love it!

🛁🫧 the alchemy by @leiascully

I absolutely adore “platonic” intimacy that happens when they’re not quite together, and this fic starts out that way and ends in some incredibly satisfying RST. For such a short fic, this one sure does pack a punch! One of my favorites from fictober.

🕳️📍 You Send Me by spookynerd

The silliest premise leads to the sweetest romance! I love to see Mulder all pathetic and pining. My favorite line: “I’m in love. I think it’s terminal.”

🧜‍♀️💍 mermaids, native to montana by @foxmulders

I read this one a while ago and recently stumbled across it again. It’s the type of fluff with an undercurrent of sadness that creates such a powerful sense of longing. If you’re a fan of an unconventional marriage fic, read this one!

🛌🚂 Untitled by @myassbrokethefall

I usually steer clear of revival fics (I haven’t even been able to bring myself to watch it yet) but this one is just so darn sweet! I’d like to go back in time and show CC a copy of this fic so he writes it into the show.

🎂💌 Birthday Blues by Donnilee

I’m a fan of an author who can turn the silliest, most improbable situations seem probable, and this fic delivers. Read it if you’re a fan of tropey goodness and smut that’s as adorable as it is hot.

💇‍♀️💥 By the Dim and Flaring Lamps by @sunflowerseedsandscience

I was in the mood for a historical setting, and this Civil War AU fit the bill! One of my favorite things was its exploration of 19th-century gender roles, not to mention the unconventional romance.

🇮🇪🏰 Katherine of Ireland by Jenna Tooms

If you’re a fan of Hiraeth (as I am), you’ll love this one! It has a very similar setting and plot. The writing styles are very different, though, so it’s not like they’re carbon copies of each other or anything.

Anyway, this fic is achingly romantic, with plenty of lines that take your breath away.

(If you want the epub for easier reading, let me know!)

🏝️👻 Waldron Island by @sisterspooky1013

Like Gaslight, this fic features M&S not being able to trust their own minds. However, this time, it’s for horror reasons, not sci-fi reasons. Regardless, that concept is one of my favorites to explore in fiction, so I absolutely devoured this spooky fic! (And the ending scene? 😫🔥🥵🥹‼️)

😈🪞 Succumbing to the Truth by OnlyTheInevitable

If you liked Waldron Island, you’ll love this one! It’s a similar concept, but lies more in the casefic genre rather than straight-up horror. I loooove the way it uses the plot (a succubus demon) to force M&S closer together and finally talk about their feelings. It’s one of those fics where you can see where it’s going, which adds anticipation and makes the ending so much sweeter!

🥤🛍️ Inevitable by @thefinestmuffins

This alternate version of the car conversation in Tooms is an incredible Scully character study that’s absolutely dripping with UST. For a short fic, it truly packs a punch! One of my favorite parts is this: “On the Dana Scully list of priorities, want figures very, very low. It’s not that she doesn’t possess it in great quantity, it’s just that she fights like hell to rate it less highly than ambition, dignity, control, pragmatism, self-sufficiency, stability.”

[leiascully]

Smutty fic prompt? Established MSR. Mulder and Scully are on a case, Mulder is being serious, Scully is amused but not convinced - and just wants to stay at the hotel and have sex for the week because the case is a total waste of time. Mulder telling her everything he wants to do to her but ultimately rebuffs all advances, and it’s all fun and games because Scully thinks he’d rather chase monsters than put his money where his mouth is. Anyway — he ends up being a man of his word which takes her by surprise

I think this fills your prompt, anon.

9000 words; M/E for sexual situations including pegging; good little agents don't consort while on assignment, but they really, really want to. (ao3 link)

“You’re serious.” She fixed him with a level gaze over the roof of the rental car.

“I’m always serious,” he said, and they both ignored the inherent fallacies in that statement. “Are you serious? You thought I brought you up here to play house?”

“What else was I supposed to think?” She gestured at the forest around them and the quaint bed and breakfast standing in the clearing. “That you brought me up to an adorable B&B on the wooded shores of Lake Champlain for a week to hunt another sea monster no one’s ever actually seen?”

“There have been over 300 eyewitness reports of a snake-like creature in the lake, dating back to the Iroquois,” Mulder told her. “That doesn’t even include the latest series of reports. I don’t know why you wouldn’t want to investigate it.”

“First of all,” she said, “your last lake monster ate my dog.”

“It wasn’t my lake monster,” he muttered.

“Second of all,” she said, fixing him with a steely eye, “last time you took me on a trip that was so obviously a wild goose chase, we hadn’t yet escalated our relationship. So yes, Fox, I thought you brought me here to play house.”

He raised an eyebrow. “We’re back to Fox?”

“I think I’ve earned the right to use your first name now and again.” She smirked. “After all, I’ve been inside you.”

To her surprise, he blushed.

“How many rooms did you get?”

She heard his feet shuffle. He wouldn’t look at her. “Two.”

She sighed. “Lake monster.”

“Lake monster that’s been frightening tourists,” he said. He came around the car and stood a little too close to her, the way he always did. “The tourism bureau asked around. Someone told them we were the people to solve their problem.”

She leaned against the car and tipped her head back to look at him. “Two rooms.”

“Come on, Scully,” he said in a low voice that made her tingle. “You know the people in finance already share our expense reports around. I want to win the betting pool.”

“And what will you do with your thousands?” she teased.

He shifted even closer. She felt her lips part in anticipation as he leaned down, but he skimmed past her mouth to whisper in her ear: “Take you on a real vacation.”

She reached out past the loose lapels of his suit jacket and hooked her finger into the waist of his trousers. “You better.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He stepped back, taking her with him like they were dancing. They’d always been dancing, she thought. Two steps forward, three steps back, but rarely entirely out of sync. He reached behind him to pop the trunk and pulled out her suitcase, pretending to strain against the weight of it. “Maybe you won’t need this many clothes for our vacation.”

“Hmm,” she said, “maybe I’ll bring something less bulky than a suit.”

“You could wear one of those little t-shirts,” he suggested. “Some cutoff jean shorts.” He paused, clearly caught up in an intriguing possibility. “You could wear my boxers.”

She smiled at him. “Maybe even something more abbreviated than that.”

He dropped his voice even more. “Scully, are you holding out on me? Do you own lingerie I haven’t seen?”

She leaned into him, slipping her fingers further into his trousers to graze the elastic of his boxers under his shirttail. “I guess you’re not gonna find out this week.”

He groaned.

She gave her fingers one last wiggle and extracted them from his waistband. He heaved his own suitcase out of the trunk and closed it. They trundled their luggage along the brick path and up the stairs. She looked at him one last time as they stood on the porch in front of the lobby windows.

“Two rooms?”

“Don’t worry, Scully,” he murmured. “I’m sure I’ll be able to hear you through the wall.”

Heat flooded her body as he opened the door and ushered her in with one hand at the small of her back. This time, she didn’t mind that he’d gotten the last word.

+ + +

When they were checked in and settled, she went to his room and sat on the bed. All the furniture in the place seemed to be charmingly mismatched antiques. Mulder’s bed had four posters and it creaked picturesquely when she shifted her weight. “Tell me about our suspect.”

“Champ?”

She sighed and rubbed her hand over her face. “Of course it’s called Champ.”

“We’re dealing with a protected species here, Scully.” Mulder leaned against his dresser. He’d taken off his jacket and rolled up his shirtsleeves. “The lake was declared a safe haven for its resident monster in 1981. In 1984, 58 different people claim to have seen Champ. Early reports declared it to resemble an enormous serpent with the head of a sea horse, a white star on its forehead, and a band of red around its extremely long neck.” He stepped forward to pass her a fuzzy copy of a photograph. She studied it. “This is the Mansi photograph. No one’s ever been able to debunk it, but Sandra Mansi destroyed the negative, so nobody’s ever been able to authenticate it either.”

“Naturally.” She got up and went to the window. The lake was visible as a blue glint through the trees. “And what crimes has Champ perpetrated?”

“Overturning small watercraft, biting fish off people’s lines, that kind of thing.” He joined her at the window. “No human casualties.”

She let her shoulder brush his chest. “So what are we doing here? It doesn’t sound like there’s anything for us to investigate. If anything, this level of activity would draw in tourists and benefit businesses like this one. The loss of a fish here and there seems negligible.”

“No human casualties yet,” he said, “but there have been reports of people feeling something large brush against them in an area where there was no underwater debris.”

“Are there fish in the lake?”

“Big ones,” he said. “Sturgeon and gar, for starters.”

She gestured. “Ta da. There’s your suspect.”

“Neither sturgeon nor gar are capable of disappearing multiple swimmers and boaters.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “You never lead with the most pertinent information.”

“Impertinence is my middle name.” His eyes twinkled as he grinned at her.

“I think I read that in your file.” She turned to face him. “So what are we supposed to do about it?”

“We do what we do. Dredge the truth up from the depths.”

She looked longingly at the bed. “Wouldn’t local law enforcement be better at this? We know nothing about the area.”

“Local law enforcement hasn’t turned up anything.” He sat on the bed and took her hands, drawing her close to stand between his knees. “Help them, Scully-Wan Kenobi. You’re their only hope.”

She softened, gazing down at him. By default, they’d become two of the foremost experts in American cryptozoology, and their solve rate on missing persons cases was the envy of the Bureau. Maybe it was Mulder’s intuition; maybe it was her eye for detail. She couldn’t deny that their expertise was unparalleled in cases like this, paranormal or not. “I want a nice vacation after this.”

“I promise.” He raised her hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles.

“And not to Loch Ness.”

He laughed, soft and low. “I promise that too.” He looked up at her and his eyes were like a forest fire. The blaze in them kindled an answering flame in her belly. “I’ll make it up to you.”

She pouted a little. “How?”

“Very, very slowly.” He licked his lips, making his meaning clear. Scully squirmed and he pressed his knees into her hips, pinning her there.

“Did we ever decide if we can consort during a case?”

“Go against the regulations?” He turned her hands over and rubbed his cheek with its incipient stubble over the soft skin of her wrist. “Why, Agent Scully, it’s like you don’t even know me.”

She curled her fingers around his jaw and ran her thumb over his lips. “And if we solve this thing tomorrow?”

He lifted one shoulder. “Then I guess I’m buying plane tickets and you’re buying lingerie.”

“This B&B could be haunted,” she suggested. “Then we’d have to stay and investigate.”

He squinted up at her fondly. “Why didn’t I know you were susceptible to the charms of creaky floors, Scully?”

“Maybe you don’t know me very well.” She tilted her head, challenging him to challenge the patent absurdity of the statement.

“Then I’d like to know you better,” he said in a voice like velvet. Damn him, he always understood exactly how to disarm her.

“Not until we solve this,” she scolded him, and stepped away. “I’m going to freshen up.”

“Hey, Scully?” he said from the bed.

“Hmm?” She turned in the doorway to face him.

“How big a box of condoms do you think the drugstore will sell me?”

She thought for a moment. “I don’t know, but buy two.”

She heard him exhale in a rush as she slipped out the door.

+ + +

As it turned out, they shared a bathroom. She’d been too distracted to think about the geography of it when she’d glimpsed the door in his room. The B&B was an old house with a lot of additions. She doubted there was a true angle in the place. But it was charming. There was a clawfoot bathtub that she was definitely going to get better acquainted with.

She freshened up and changed into her small-town uniform of jeans and a windbreaker. People in places like this often distrusted suits. She’d learned over the years that she needed all the credibility she could get. For some reason, showing up armed with federal credentials and factoids about cryptids didn’t garner much respect.

Mulder was also wearing jeans when she found him downstairs. Scully was suddenly glad he’d cut his hair. If he’d been looking like that with his hair falling over his forehead, she would have dragged him straight back upstairs, and let anyone missing stay missing. His ass, hugged by denim, was a more compelling force than anything previously discovered in her known universe.

Instead, she took the file folder he offered here and spent the drive to the local police station reviewing the details. Behind a thick stack of garbled reports of enormous, half-visible underwater shadows and unexpected friction, she found the reports. Most of the people who’d gone missing had been found a few hours or a day later, including a group of teens who’d been stranded when their boat ran out of gas. Fortunately, they’d been in shouting distance of Burton Island State Park, and someone had spotted them the next morning. There was the occasional death by drowning, but the bodies turned up with marks of predation that didn’t indicate anything bigger than fish. Frankly, Scully didn’t know why most of them were included. A nine-year-old who’d wandered away in search of ice cream and been rediscovered sleeping in his parents’ car didn’t deserve a missing persons report. But it was a small town. Maybe local PD didn’t have much else to do.

There were two people who had disappeared the previous week and hadn’t been found. Both women in their thirties. A place like this would need seasonal workers, but when Scully checked their addresses, they were both townies. Grown and raised here, graduates of the local high school (go Panthers). One worked in an antique shop (of course). One managed an ice cream parlor and its attendant roster of high school employees.

“Just these two actually missing persons?” she asked.

Mulder drummed on the steering wheel. “So far.”

“Mmhmm,” she said. “And you’re sure this isn’t a joke case? Something you dreamed up so we could dillydally on someone else’s dime?”

“This is a legitimate investigation,” he assured her. “Cassy Miller and Naomi Diaz are gone. No one’s seen or heard from them. They were fishing buddies. Their boat was found washed up on shore halfway across the lake with all their tackle in it.”

“I take it this was uncharacteristic behavior.”

He nodded as he flipped on the turn signal. “Neither of them’s missed a day of work in years without a doctor’s note. Never late. Reliable as the sunrise.”

She examined Naomi’s photo. A young-looking thirty-something with dark wavy hair. She was smiling in the photo, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “And now…what, devoured by a mythical creature?”

“It’s a possibility,” Mulder said. “However extreme. The boat wasn’t far from one of the areas where frequent sightings have occurred.”

Scully flipped the page and re-read the sparse details of Naomi’s life. “Allegedly.”

He dipped his head in acknowledgment. It was a familiar push and pull between them. No case would have felt complete without it.

They reached the edges of the town, and then, very quickly, the center. The police station was easy to find. When they walked in, Scully knew jeans had been the right choice. It wasn’t the kind of place a suit would garner any kind of respect.

“Gosh, we will be glad of the help,” said the police chief. Her name tag said Hughes. She seemed earnest enough. “We do stay busy around here during tourist season. Not just people going missing, but petty theft, the occasional fire, all that. A lotta DUIs, if I’m honest.”

“And you’re…experts?” Chief Hughes’ second-in-command was standing in the corner of the room, thumbs hooked into his pockets. “In…Champ?”

“We’ve done extensive work in cryptozoology,” Scully said coolly. “Champ, as you call it, is just one example of a larger clade of hypothetical marine reptiles. If these women were consumed by such a creature, we would be able to verify that predation occurred. If there are other, less fantastic explanations, we’ll find those.” She glanced at Mulder, who was lounging in his chair. “Isn’t that right, Agent Mulder.”

“You took the words right out of my mouth, Agent Scully.” He smiled at the police chief, who blinked back at him, her mouth open just slightly.

He was such a little shit sometimes.

+ + +

They spent the day on the lake. It might have been romantic, if it hadn’t been for the trio of deputies assigned to them. They kept looking at Mulder and Scully, nervous or envious or skeptical or some combination of all three. She was used to it. Big city feds in their sunglasses and windbreakers inspired a variety of interesting feelings in their less cosmopolitan counterparts. She’d seen it all.

“Bet I could bully them into letting me drive the boat,” Mulder whispered to Scully, leaning in so the deputies couldn’t hear them.

“You’d have to dump me in the lake first,” she whispered back.

“And let you get eaten by Champ?” His eyebrows crimped together under his sunglasses in an exaggerated expression of woe. “Scully. I would never.”

“I would,” she told him.

“I accept my fate.” He sat back, stretched his arms along the side of the boat.

The deputies showed them where the boat had been found, the boat, the intact tackle. Scully examined it all dutifully. Mulder examined it less dutifully, gazing out over the water. He had one hand on his hip, the other shading his already shaded eyes. He looked like a statue.

“Does he see something?” one of the deputies asked Scully. Her voice was hushed, almost worshipful.

“I’m sure if he does, he’ll let you know,” Scully told her.

The purported victims’ boat having yielded nothing, the deputies herded their federal charges back onto their own departmental boat. Scully peered into the depths, Mulder’s hand braced on her back. No serpents emerged. There wasn’t so much as the silver flicker of a fish, although that was telling, in its own way. But they’d disturbed the waters with the wake of their boat, coming and going. The fish had fled the limnetic zone because of the noise of the motor, not because of some primordial beast.

Still, it was nice: the sunshine on the water, the convivial throng of tourists on the beaches. She and Mulder talked to the assistant manager at Cassy’s ice cream parlor, a young man clearly flummoxed by his brevet promotion.

“I don’t know,” he said, bewildered. “She’s great. Runs this place - ran this place - really well. I mean it’s hard to deal with a bunch of kids sometimes, right? But she started working here when she was a kid and just never stopped. I don’t know. I don’t know.” He put his face in his hands. Scully patted him on the shoulder, a little gingerly.

Afterward, they got ice cream: strawberry for Scully, butter pecan for Mulder. They carried their windbreakers folded inside out over their arms to hide their credentials. They might have been anyone. They walked along the lake shore and he smiled down at her and they could have been an ordinary couple. The sunshine gleamed on his skin and brought out gold flecks in the green of his eyes. She couldn’t stop looking at his mouth.

“What?” He licked his lips exaggeratedly. “Ice cream?”

She shook her head.

“Then what?”

She squinted up at him. “You’re just really pretty sometimes.”

“Sometimes?”

She smiled. “Sometimes.”

“Well, you’re really pretty all the time.” He bumped her with his arm. “And that’s my professional opinion, by the way. I’ve been working on your profile a long time. I don’t want to brag, but I’m known for my powers of observation.”

“That’s not what profiling is,” she said sternly.

He tilted his head at her. “Sometimes.”

She huffed: not a laugh, not a sigh, but happy. “Sometimes.”

+ + +

They got dinner at a little restaurant. The fish was fresh, the coleslaw was crisp, and the fries were hot. There was homemade pie on the menu and Scully indulged in that too. If she couldn’t have Mulder, she was going to treat herself in other ways. It had cooled off by the time they finished dinner. Scully shrugged her windbreaker on. On the drive back to the B&B, they rolled down the windows of the rental car.

“This is summer,” Mulder said with satisfaction. “T-shirts in the afternoon, sweaters in the evening.”

“Not like DC,” Scully said. She put her arm out the window and spread her fingers to feel the breeze push through them.

“Not like DC,” Mulder agreed. “Unless you like being wrapped in a wet wool blanket.”

Scully let her head loll over on the headrest, gazing at him. “I can think of other things I’d rather be wrapped in.”

Mulder flicked his eyes at her. “Or maybe you’d rather be unwrapped?”

“Maybe I would.” She tipped her hand so the breeze washed over it. “But someone put a note on me that says ‘Do not open until Christmas’.”

“Not until Christmas, Scully,” he said, amusement in his voice. “Just until we’ve wrapped the case.”

“Wrapping begets unwrapping. I see.”

“A little motivation for us,” he suggested.

“You know, I always thought that I’d be the one who insisted we separate work and play,” Scully mused.

He chuckled. “I did too. Turns out you’re not the good girl you play on tv, Agent Scully.”

She wished that didn’t send a little thrill through her. “Aren’t you glad I’m not?”

“Desperately,” he said, with a raspy edge to his voice that sent another frisson up her spine. He pulled into the little lot of the B&B and turned the car off, then slung his arm over the steering wheel and turned to her. “Don’t think I wouldn’t unwrap you right now, Scully.”

“Haven’t we paid enough cleaning fees to the rental agency?” she said, leaning toward him just a little. Mulder’s event horizon extended too far - she’d been pulled in unexpectedly so many times.

“Not for this.” His voice strummed a chord inside her. “Variety is the spice of life, Scully.”

“Uh huh.” She tipped her chin up. “And what would you do with me, if you unwrapped me in this rental car?”

“Obviously, I’d start with kissing,” Mulder told her. “I’m a gentleman. I’d never jump right in unless you asked for it.”

“Mmhmm,” Scully said.

“Oh, sorry, I misspoke,” Mulder said. His eyes glinted. “I meant I wouldn’t jump right in unless you begged for it.”

Scully licked her lips. “And under what circumstances do you think I’d beg for it?”

“If I kissed your neck for long enough, you might,” he said. She was staring at his mouth, half-hypnotized. “That spot behind your ear. If I put you on my lap and played with your tits and you could feel how much I wanted you.”

“I don’t know,” she said slowly. “I’ve always considered myself to be a stubborn person. I don’t think that would do it.”

“Maybe if I stretched you out in the backseat. Braced myself over you. Stroked my way up the inside of your thigh,” he suggested. “Never quite touching exactly where you wanted. I’d use my hands, my leg. Maybe my lips. Just teasing until you can’t stand it any longer.”

“Mulder.”

“Yeah?”

“Is that what you were doing for the past seven years?”

“Metaphorically,” he said, twinkling at her. His eyes were dark. “Are you ready to beg?”

She leaned forward, her lips nearly touching his. “Good night, Mulder.” She climbed out of the car and left him in the dark surrounded by the song of crickets.

+ + +

Later, in bed by herself, she touched herself just like he’d imagined, drawing her fingertips up the soft skin to brush her curls over and over until she was shivering with need. She didn’t stifle her cries. When she finally dragged her thumb over her clit, she said his name. She thought she heard a groan from the other side of the wall.

She was glad it was a small B&B. That meant fewer eavesdroppers. The other guests all seemed to be adults, at least. Maybe their vacations would be improved by this kind of soundtrack. It was her turn to be the one gasping in her tangled covers, even if she was doing it alone.

+ + +

The next day, she fell in the lake.

They’d borrowed the boat and the deputies again. Mulder was studying a map of the lake. It was all marked up with places of particular interest. Maybe that’s what he’d been doing while she was raking just the edges of her nails up the crease of her thigh.

“Right down there,” he said, peering over the gunwale. “There’s a deep spot. Maybe that’s where its den is.”

“Its den?” Scully said, joining him. “Doesn’t it have to breathe? Or is that part of the myth?”

“There could be pockets of air underwater,” Mulder said. “An intricate system of caves. Or maybe it can hold its breath.” He turned to look at her. Scully glanced over his shoulder. The deputies were watching them breathlessly. “Some whales can hold their breath for hours. Maybe Champ can too.”

“Maybe something cold-blooded needs less oxygen,” she said. “It might have a slower metabolism. And the red band around its neck - that could be a primitive system of gills. That could allow it to stay underwater, even in the benthic zone.”

“I love it when you come out to play,” he murmured, just quiet enough that the deputies couldn’t hear.

She opened her mouth to reply to him and then the boat rocked on a huge swell of water and she went over the gunwale before she could reach for the railing.

“Scully!” Mulder shouted, and grabbed for her, but she was past the point of no return and his grip on her ankle just meant she banged her side hard on the boat as she splashed into the water. It was cold in the lake. She was soaked instantly, water pouring into her shoes and down her collar. The current swirled, tugging at her, pulling at her until she couldn’t tell which way was up. Scully opened her eyes. She was deeper than she’d thought. The darkness under her rippled. She kicked toward the surface. Mulder was reaching toward her almost as soon as her head broke the water. He and one of the deputies hauled her into the boat while the other two braced themselves against the other gunwale.

“Are you okay?” he asked. A deputy passed him a towel and he blotted her face gently with it.

She spit out a bit of lake water and took the towel from him to squeeze water out of her hair. “I lost my sunglasses.”

“Tragic.” He took off his own and settled them on her nose. They were too big and slipped down, but she loved him for it all the same. She patted her pockets. She still had her badge and her wet brick of a phone and her wallet. Fortunately, Mulder had the keys to the rental car.

“Agent Mulder?” said one of the deputies. “What made the boat tip?”

“Heavy wake from another boat,” Scully said automatically. “A gust of wind that created an abnormally large wave. Unregistered seismic activity.”

“Or a lake monster,” Mulder said, still looking her over. Seemingly satisfied with what he found, he turned to the deputies. “What did you see?”

“Nothing,” said one.

“Not a boat big enough to pull that kind of wake,” said another. “You’d need a ferry.”

The last one shuffled her feet. “A shadow,” she said at last. “I think. Maybe nothing.”

Scully coughed. Mulder rubbed her back. He was pressed against her side. Her wet clothes were soaking him, but he didn’t move away. “Sorry to say, Deputy, you’re going to spend a lot of time investigating shadows if you stick with this job.”

The deputy’s brow was furrowed. “Do you think that’s what happened to Cassy and Naomi? A wave? But they could swim. Everyone here can swim.”

“All their gear was still in the boat,” Mulder pointed out. “They fell out and the tackle box didn’t?”

“I guess not.” The deputy looked troubled. “The lake’s too deep to dredge and too big to dive.”

“Then all we can do is our best,” Scully said. She shivered. The sunshine was bright, but the breeze ruffling the water kept it from warming her.

“Let’s get you somewhere where you can dry off,” Mulder said, and the deputies took the hint and powered up the engine.

+ + +

Scully ran a very hot bath in the clawfoot tub. Her clothes had dried a little in transit - they were definitely going to get a cleaning fee for the rental car, and not for any entertaining reasons - but she was still too wet and too cold to be comfortable. She peeled off her clothes and hung them on the towel bar with her damp towel from the boat underneath to catch drips. It was a relief to climb into the steaming foamy bath. She sighed, her whole body relaxing into the warmth as she tipped her head back to rinse her hair.

When she thought of the lake, she got fragments of memory. The breathless moment going overboard. The splash. The cold. The dark. It had only been an hour or two and yet it slipped away from her. She was glad she’d given a report before they’d come back to the B&B. Had there been something looming below her in the darkness? Even in the moment, she hadn’t been sure. Had she been brushed by a tangle of floating weeds? Had the water been agitated by cross-currents from boats speeding over the busy lake?

Had a monster tipped her into the water, or was it a silly mistake on a slippery deck?

She sighed again, sinking into the water up to her chin. For a while she drifted, eyes closed. The window was open for a crossbreeze and the smell of lake and pine mingled dreamily with the lavender scent of the bubble bath. She lay there, imagining the life of a prehistoric creature trapped in the modern world. If there were a monster, what had it seen? How much did it understand about the changes in its habitat? Did it long for the past? Had it eaten Cassy Miller and Naomi Diaz? Had there been other victims?

The adjoining door creaked open. Mulder walked in and knelt by the tub, pillowing his arms on the side.

She opened one eye. “I thought we weren’t consorting while on assignment.”

“We’re not consorting.” He brushed a wet strand of hair off her forehead and resettled his chin on his arms. “We’re conferring.”

She made a skeptical noise. “How collegial of us.” Most of the bubbles had popped, and what remained didn’t provide much modesty. They’d had less-clothed conversations about work, but not many.

“What happened at the lake?” she asked.

“You tell me.” He gazed at her. “You were the one in the drink.”

She pushed herself up a little in the tub so they were face to face. His eyes dropped predictably to her breasts and dragged back up to her face. “A larger-than-average wave rocked the boat. I fell in. There was some kind of current that pulled me further under than would usually result from a fall of such a short distance. I can’t speak to its origin. During my brief time under the water, I thought I saw movement below me, but it could have been anything, Mulder. A shadow. A log.”

“An ancient reptile.” The sun had shifted and the bathroom was draped in shade. What light there was reflected patchily off the bathwater to dapple Mulder’s face. She wondered if there had been a time in her life when she hadn’t known how beautiful he was. She couldn’t remember that either. Her life before Mulder felt somehow insignificant.

“What did you see?” she asked him.

“I only had eyes for you,” he said.

“You’re losing your touch,” she said lightly.

“I’m all right with that.” His eyes searched hers. “As long as you’re all right.”

“I’m fine. I’ve been wet before.” Her lips quirked. “You of all people should know that.”

“I had a suspicion.” He tipped his cheek onto his bicep.

“I have a suspicion of my own,” she said. He raised his eyebrows, inviting her to continue. “Cassy Miller and Naomi Diaz ran away or disappeared through otherwise un-supernatural circumstances.”

“Going out on a limb there, Agent,” Mulder told her. “I don’t know if I can present that kind of wild theory to Skinner.”

“If, and I stress if, there were a mysterious reptile that had been inhabiting this lake for centuries if not millennia, I don’t think it would target humans. We’re too noisy, too fast. Increased activity on the lake would likely drive it deeper, not provoke it.”

“Unless it were desperate,” Mulder said. “A drop in the population of fish. Rising temperatures in the lake.”

“A species would take generations to adapt to the changes that have occurred in the local environment, but this is one hypothetical individual, Mulder. One organism can alter its behavior on a timescale far more rapid.”

He nodded against his arm, just a little. “They were last seen in a boat.”

“So the report says,” Scully said. “But Cassy Miller’s car is missing.”

“There are actually a surprising number of car thefts for a town this size,” Mulder told her. “Something about teens and tourists.”

Scully opened her palm above the water. Her fingers were pruny. “That’s my theory.”

“I respect it,” Mulder said. “But I haven’t decided yet whether I agree.”

“Why am I not surprised.” She cupped water in her hand, let it pour over her breasts. The bubbles sluiced down the slope of her chest, pearling around her nipples. She watched Mulder watch her. His breath caught a little and his pupils darkened. “Are we still conferring, or have we moved on to consorting?”

“You know there’s nothing I want more than to climb into that tub with you,” he said in a low voice.

“I can recommend against wet denim,” she said. “The chafing ruins the mood.” She thought of straddling his lap, feeling the friction of the sodden fabric against her skin, and rubbed her thighs together in anticipation. Up until the chafing, it would be delicious.

“I think I learned my lesson today,” he told her. “No clothes. Just you on top of me, skin on skin. You could take your time. I’d worship your tits.”

“I think your vision ends up with water all over the bathroom floor.” She let her hand drift down her body.

“Worth it.” Hunger flickered in his eyes.

“Is it consorting if I’m pursuing solitary pleasures while we’re discussing a case?” she asked.

He laughed. “If so, we’ve been consorting for years.”

“I knew it,” she said. Her fingers wandered down her belly, strayed lower.

“Fuck, Scully,” he said roughly. “You know I can withstand anything except temptation.”

She toyed with her curls, imagining the slow swell of his erection. He shifted a little on his heels as she pushed her fingers between her folds and stroked slowly. She let her head loll against the porcelain. Her other hand rose to stroke her breast. Mulder took a deep breath and let it out in a slow hiss.

“You know there’s nothing but your own conscience stopping you from getting into this tub.” She arched her back, pushing her breasts out of the water.

“I told you,” he said. “I’m trying to take this seriously. I take you seriously. Everything we’re doing deserves our full attention, Scully. The work. This.” He gestured between them. “Whatever you think about my lake monster theory, there are two women missing. People are worried about them.”

“I know that,” she said, an edge creeping into her voice. Her hands slipped away from their pleasant tasks.

“We crossed a line together,” he said. “I don’t regret it. I’ll never, ever regret it. But there are other lines we shouldn’t cross.”

“You’re the one who keeps telling me all the things we’d be doing if we weren’t working,” she snapped.

“And I mean every word of it.” It sounded like a vow. “When we’re done here, I’m going to fuck you until you can’t remember your name. But we’re not finished.”

“I’m finished.” She toed the stopper out of the train and hauled herself up out of the water, too cranky to finish what she’d started. He rocked back on his heels, looking wounded. “With this bath, Mulder. I’m tired. I’m going to take a nap. Wake me up for dinner.”

“I will,” he said. He handed her an enormous fluffy towel and helped her out of the tub.

“Scully,” he said as she opened the door to her room, and she turned just enough to indicate she was listening. “I’ll make it up to you.”

She went back to her room, dried off, rolled naked into the bed. She was too keyed up to sleep. She rolled onto her stomach and thrust against the ridge of her hand until pleasure spiraled tight within her. She moaned into the pillow, suddenly boneless as release hit her, and drifted into sleep.

+ + +

The rest of their investigation yielded nothing. They dutifully went in each day to work with local law enforcement. They searched a few other areas of the lake. The deputies made Scully wear a life jacket, but there weren’t any other mysterious waves. They followed leads to dead ends. Wherever the women were, they weren’t using credit cards. Cassy Miller’s car was found a few miles away. It wasn’t far from a bus station, Scully noted, but she kept her thoughts to herself. Subsequent trips to the lake produced no evidence of a lake monster or any foul play. No bodies. No torn clothes.

“We’ll keep following up,” Mulder assured the chief of police. “I’ve added their names to our list. If anyone turns up matching their descriptions, we’ll let you know.”

“I appreciate your help.” Chief Hughes shook their hands.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t help more,” Scully told her.

“We’re grateful anyone showed up,” Chief Hughes said. “Not a lot of feds would care about our small-town problems. But two of our own disappear, that’s something we feel here. Like a missing tooth.”

Mulder looked away. Scully clasped Chief Hughes’ hand. “We won’t stop looking.”

Chief Hughes’ smile was watery. “Neither will we.”

+ + +

“I thought the breakfast at the B&B was excellent,” Mulder said as they walked to their gate at the airport. “Those scones were homemade.”

“The beds were also excellent.” Scully glanced up at him. “At least, mine was. I can’t speak to the quality of any other accommodations.”

“I’d stay there again,” he said. “Recreationally.”

“Oh? Are you seeing someone?”

He stopped suddenly in the middle of the passageway. She stopped too and looked at him curiously. He took her face between his hands and kissed her. It was profound. It was passionate. It was making her weak in the knees in the middle of a fucking airport. She put her hands on his waist to steady herself.

“It wasn’t because this is a secret, Scully,” he said. “I’d get your name tattooed in five inch letters on my ass tomorrow if that’s what you wanted.”

“I know.” She took a deep breath and let it out. “I know. The work matters. It was just weird not to be on the same page.”

“It was,” he agreed. His eyes searched her face and he smiled at whatever he saw there. “Should we go home?”

“Are you conferring with me in a professional context, Agent Mulder?”

He shook his head, the smile turning into a grin. “I’m not interested in your professional opinion at this time, Agent Scully.”

“Then yes, we should go home.”

He slung his arm around her shoulders as they walked and she leaned into him.

+ + +

In the DC airport, Scully caught a glimpse of curly hair and a familiar profile. “Naomi,” she said quietly to herself, and then louder. “Naomi!”

The woman turned, blanched, tried to push through a crowd. Scully swore. It was the suits. It was always the suits. Scully pursued, Mulder at her heels.

“Naomi! You’re not in trouble. We just want to talk.”

Naomi turned at last, eyes bright but her chin held high. She was clutching the hand of a blonde woman Scully had seen in a dozen photographs.

“Naomi Diaz,” Mulder drawled. “Cassy Miller.”

“How do you know our names?” Naomi demanded.

“We’ve been looking for you.” Scully showed them her badge. “Police Chief Hughes called the Bureau to follow up on a missing persons report.”

“And here you are, remarkably unmissing,” Mulder said. He was enjoying himself too much for someone who had been completely wrong, Scully thought.

“We shouldn’t have left the way we did,” Naomi said. Her mouth trembled. “I know that. But we couldn’t stay.”

“Why not?” Scully asked, and then looked again at the women’s clasped hands and understood.

Cassy stepped in front of Naomi without letting go. “It’s a small town, ma’am. Everybody knows everybody there. The kids at my store, I watched them grow up. I babysat half of them. Their parents are the older siblings of the kids I went to high school with. If I changed shampoo brands, the whole town would know by the end of the week.”

“I see.” Scully put her hands in her pockets. A week looking for two women and no one had mentioned they were lovers. The picture drew itself.

“I have loved this woman for a decade and everyone pretends they don’t know that,” Cassy said fiercely. “They just look right past me. It’s almost worse than if they were hateful.”

“It was like we were already dead,” Naomi put in. “We can’t get married. Landlords kept losing our application when we tried to get an apartment together. So it seemed easy. Everybody knows that people get drunk and stupid on the lake and nobody ever sees them again.”

“We read the reports,” Mulder told them. “Nobody in that town thought either of you would be drunk or stupid.”

“It was better than staying,” Cassy said in a firm voice. “Now we can start over. We can have a life that’s real. I’m thirty-two years old. I can’t spend the rest of my life playing pretend. Not about her.”

“They think you were eaten by the lake monster,” Scully told them.

Cassy laughed. “Champ? That’s just a legend.”

“No, it’s not,” Naomi muttered.

Scully exchanged a look with Mulder. “Regardless,” Scully said smoothly, “I think in this case, we can file a report saying that all evidence was inconclusive.” She paused. “Being eaten by a lake monster isn’t the worst way to go.”

Mulder was scribbling on a piece of paper. He passed it to Cassy. “Go to this address. The attendant in the Metro can show you the best stop. Tell them Mulder sent you. They’re weird guys, but they’ll help you.”

“And that’s it?” Naomi asked. “You’re not going to turn us in?”

“Leaving town isn’t a crime,” Scully told her. She started to turn away, and then turned back. “This may sound strange but…it’s never too late to start living the life you want. For what it’s worth, I think you’re both brave.”

“Thank you,” Cassy said.

Scully nodded and walked away with Mulder at her shoulder. They were quiet as they picked up their backs at the luggage carousel. She said nothing as they got into Mulder’s car. She waited until they had exited the airport road and merged onto the highway.

“Mulder?”

“Hmm?”

“I told you so.”

+ + +

He parked in front of her apartment and carried her bag in for her. “What a gentleman,” she started to say, but before she could get the words out, he was pressing her into the door, his hot mouth descending on hers. She tugged at his lip with her teeth and then surrendered, opening her mouth to the insistent slide of his tongue. Their hands tangled trying to get to each other’s buttons. But finally, fucking finally, his hands were on her bare tits and she was digging her nails into his back. She could feel his erection against her belly. She cupped it with her palm and he groaned.

“Fuck, Scully.”

She dragged his head down and nipped at his ear. “Time to put your money where your very active mouth is, Mulder.”

“Anything you want,” he promised.

“Tease me,” she said. “Worship me.”

He pressed his body into hers, fumbling at the closure of her skirt. After a moment he gave up and just pushed it over her hips. His hands ghosted over her skin, barely touching, until her nerves crackled and fizzed like a plasma globe. By the time his thumb traced up the damp gusset of her underwear, she was almost panting.

“What do you want, Scully?” he whispered, his tongue flicking at the shell of her ear.

“I want to give it to you,” she gasped. His hips jolted against her and she moaned.

He bit gently at her shoulder. “I’m confused but very turned on.” His thumb grazed her underwear again and she arched into the touch for a moment. It was difficult to wriggle out from between his body and the door, but she had the fuel of a week’s worth of frustration. He followed her, shedding his pants as they slid off his hips.

She dragged her suitcase into the bedroom and tipped it onto the floor. She unzipped it and pulled out a bundle of straps wrapped around a slender purple dildo.

“That was in your suitcase the whole time?” he said from the doorway.

“I thought it was a different kind of trip,” she told him. She shook out the straps; they resolved into a harness. The dildo fit neatly into it. She’d practiced assembling it. There was no fumbling here. She shed her skirt but didn’t bother with her underwear, stepping into the harness and buckling it tight.

“I thought you were going to be the one begging,” he said, sauntering closer. “Looks like you’ve turned the tables on me again.”

“Say ‘please’,” she told him.

He knelt in front of her, gazing up her body. As she looked down at him, he lapped slowly at the head of the dildo. She shuddered at the way his eyes closed in pleasure. He opened them again and stared up at her. “Please.”

“Clothes off. Get on the bed.” She ducked into the bathroom and grabbed a towel. He caught it when she tossed it and spread it under his hips. “You’ve done this before?”

“Not in a while,” he admitted. “I didn’t know if you’d be into it.”

“It’s got more reach than my fingers,” she said. “And honestly, Mulder, I’ve wanted to fuck you speechless for years.”

“Is that a challenge?” His eyes gleamed.

“It’s a promise,” she said, pulling a latex glove out of her suitcase and snapping it on.

She took her time preparing him. A single finger up his ass in the heat of passion was different from the dildo, even if it was the smallest of the set she’d bought. He lay on his belly on the bed. She knelt between his legs, pushing his thighs wide with her knees. The marks of her nails were pink half-moons up and down his back. She liked seeing them: proof he was hers.

She worked him open slowly, slicking him with lube until he was dripping, rubbing her fingers up and down and up and down between his ass cheeks. One finger, slow and steady. Her pussy throbbed under the base of the dildo, aching for him. Two fingers and he was groaning, lifting his hips toward her. Three fingers - that was probably the same girth as the dildo, and he rocked against her eagerly.

“Are you ready?”

“God, Scully, please.”

“Turn over,” she commanded. “I want to watch you while I fuck you.”

He flipped himself over with a surprising amount of grace. She gestured and he tossed her one of the pillows. She dragged the towel over it and helped him wedge it under his hips. He looked so vulnerable like this, splayed out before her. His cock banged his belly and she couldn’t resist dragging her tongue up it to taste the salt. Her thumb stroked the tender skin under his balls, sliding back and back to push inside him. More lube. More pressure at his entrance. She circled it with her thumb, slicked the dildo with yet more lube, let the head of it rest against him.

“Scully, please,” he said in an urgent hush.

“Please what?”

“Pretty please,” he said. “Pretty please, please fuck me.”

She checked her watch. “It’s only 4:58 p.m., Mulder. Are you sure we’re off the clock?”

“Please,” he said. “I swear we’ll talk about it next time we take a case that looks like a vacation.”

“In that case,” she said, and pushed into him oh so slowly. He took the toy an inch at a time. She would have sworn his eyes got greener the deeper she pushed. He made a noise like she’d touched his soul. When she started to pull out, he whimpered. The naked need on his face floored her.

“I’m not done,” she assured him, and thrust again. Fuck, it was hard not to just snap her hips into his. She wanted to fuck him rough. Maybe once he had graduated to something bigger, she’d bend him over her couch. Maybe she’d pull out her most indulgent dildo, the one that was almost too big, and let him gag on it. Not tonight, but maybe if he pulled a stunt like that again.

For now she fucked him slowly. The base of the dildo ground against her pubis, not quite the contact she needed, but good. And his face while she fucked him, God - she could have come just from the way he looked at her.

“Enough,” he gasped when she was so on edge she was gritting her teeth to keep going. “Fuck, Scully, enough.”

She pulled out of him and he reached for her and dragged her up the bed. He undid the buckles on one side of the harness and she undid the other side and the straps fell away. She tossed the dildo to one side. And then she was straddling him and his beautiful fucking cock was pressing against her and how was she already this goddamn close? She was seeing stars and he’d barely touched her yet.

Mulder wrapped his hand around his cock and rubbed it against the wet cotton that separated her skin from his. She reached down and pushed it aside and moaned. His shaft slid between her folds. Fuck, yes, that was what she’d needed. She wasn’t waiting any longer. She cupped her hand over his and used her other hand to pull her underwear away and then she was sinking down onto his cock.

“Not yet,” he said. His hands grabbed her hips, urging her higher until she was sitting on his face. Her underwear had slipped back into place, but that didn’t seem to bother Mulder. He licked at her through the fabric, lips and tongue working together. The cotton blunted the edges of his teeth when he scraped them over her clit. She moaned, a high urgent sound, and he pulled her down hard and sucked her clit until she saw stars.

“Mulder, yes,” she was saying, over and over. Her legs shook. He lessened the pressure, then swirled his tongue in rapid circles until she was coming again, grabbing at the headboard. He slid out from under her and pressed up against her back, his big hands on her tits, thumbing at her nipples until she was almost coming again. She turned her head to kiss him hungrily as his fingers slipped lower, spreading her folds so that he could push two fingers inside her. His thumb circled her clit and she came again, a warm wave of pleasure that surprised her.

“I think these need to come off,” he said, and helped her wriggle out of her panties.

“Now will you fuck me?” she panted.

“However many orgasms that was wasn’t enough for you?” He grinned.

“It’s different,” she said. “It was good - it was fantastic - but I need you inside me, Mulder.”

He didn’t have anything to say to that. He surged up behind her again, nudging her knees apart roughly, and pushed into her, filling her pussy in a way that immediately soothed the ache inside her and made it worse all at the same time. His arm locked over her shoulders as he heaved up into her, holding her in place on his cock. She whimpered and sank her teeth into the corded muscle of his forearm. She was clinging to the bars of her headboard. The motion of his hips rocked her up and down. His other hand was braced next to hers, his fingers curling over her fist. She leaned her head against his shoulder. Fuck, she loved him.

The pressure of him inside her made her desperate. She freed one hand, touched herself with trembling fingers. She was coming undone, again, her muscles clutching around him. He moaned and pulled out of her. She cried out in protest, still shuddering, but he put his back against the headboard and hauled into his lap, thrusting up into her like he’d never stopped. She braced her knees wide and took him as deep as she could, grinding against him. His thighs were tensing under hers. She was amazed he hadn’t come yet, and grateful, and determined.

“I want you to come inside me,” she whispered, and his whole body shivered. “I’ve been so good, Mulder, please.”

He bent forward and took her nipples into his mouth, first one, then the other, his mouth hot and desperate. She kissed his forehead, scraping her fingers through his hair as he squeezed her tits. And there, so unexpected, another orgasm building inside her. She rubbed herself against him in a frenzy. She’d never come this many times in a row, with a partner or a toy, but a week’s tension had wound her tight.

“I’m close,” he warned her. He rubbed his cheek over her nipple and the friction of his stubble made her gasp. “Scully.”

“I’m coming,” she said, and it was true. Sparks burst behind her eyelids and he held her hips down and pounded up into her and she could feel him inside her, the wet heat of his pleasure. It seemed to last forever as he surged into her and then finally, finally, she was back in her body, wrapped in his arms. When he eventually pulled out of her, it felt like a loss.

“I want to lick you clean,” he said. His voice was shaking.

“Next time,” she promised, wincing just a little. She was too sensitive everywhere, but it had been worth it. Fuck, it had all been worth it. They eased down together. Mulder flopped on his belly, ass in the air.

“Did I make it up to you?” he asked.

“I believe I got the rewards I was promised,” she said.

“If I’d known you’d brought your own equipment, I don’t think my conscience would have won,” he told her. “It was hard enough seeing you in that bath, all flushed and damp.”

She patted his ass. “You took it like a champ.”

He huffed a laugh into the crumpled sheets. “I would have absolutely bought a novelty t-shirt that said that.”

“I know,” she said.

He pushed up on one elbow and gazed at her. “And you would have stolen it to wear to bed.”

“With no underwear underneath,” she agreed.

He swore under his breath. “We could go back.”

“Let’s go somewhere else,” she suggested. “I don’t want you getting distracted by the local legends. Do you think I can find you a t-shirt that says ‘Rode Hard And Put Away Wet’?”

“We’ll have to get matching ones,” he said.

“We can do that.” She smiled at him. “You can wear it to work.”

“I think that would leave Skinner with some questions.”

She shook her head, yawning. “I think that would answer most of his questions.”

“You’re probably right,” he said.

“Mulder?”

“Hmm?”

“I changed my mind,” she told him. “Lick me clean.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, and settled between her legs like it was his job. His mouth was gentle on her tender skin. His eyes were closed like he was praying. She pushed her hands through his hair and let herself drift into a dream of a life where they could do this anytime they wanted, forever and ever, amen.

[bakedbakermom]

Enough.

Rated X / 4800 words / tagging @today-in-fic @ao3feed-msr / posted on ao3

Summary: Dana Scully has had enough.

Author's Note: This is the first fanfic I have written, in this or any other fandom, for almost 20 years. It felt great to stretch the old muscles, and I hope you enjoyed it. Comments will be printed, laminated, and hung on the wall <3

_________

God, I only meant to kiss him, Scully thought, gasping, before Mulder’s tongue swirled around her nipple and she lost the ability to think.

And it was true - thoughts of kissing Mulder had been brewing deep in her core for weeks, crowding out her ability to think of much else. She had found herself watching his mouth when she should have been listening to his words, and feeling vaguely envious of everything that touched his lips. He brought them some truly terrible vending machine coffee during an all-nighter at a crummy hotel in the midwest, and the way his tongue had toyed with the little opening on the lid as he waited for it to cool made her thighs clench. In yet another rental car on yet another nameless backroad, she watched his jaw work as he split the shells of his favorite sunflower seeds, wondering how that sharp tongue that worked them so deftly open would feel in her own mouth, if he would taste of salt and beer. He licked barbecue sauce from his fingers at an all-night diner in the middle of nowhere, his tongue swirling around tips, and she had nearly choked on her iced tea.

Oh yes, thoughts of kissing Mulder had been occupying her more and more. And from the way he would catch her eye, sending her an almost imperceptible smirk each time he saw her watching, he knew exactly the effect he was having on her. She kept waiting for him to stop being such a gentleman, to take that first bold step the way he so often did. But each time she felt that line rising up to be crossed, he pulled away.

And Dana Scully had had enough.

She’d decided tonight, as she rode up the elevator for one of their not-a-date-nights that had become their post-case norm of late, that she was ready - or more accurately, that she was so far past ready that she might actually die if she didn’t kiss him soon. She brought wine - nothing too fancy, nothing that would be out of place in the mismatched glasses he kept in the cabinet, but a step up from the usual ales and lagers they usually shared. And she wore a soft v-neck sweater cut just a tad lower than she would usually wear, the better to show off the enticing cleavage her new bra presented. 

When she had slipped into the matching panties, she had very firmly told herself it was simply a personal preference for symmetry, and not any sort of statement about where this desperately-needed kiss would lead.

From the moment he popped Tarantula into the VCR (for the fourth time, “It’s a classic, Scully!”), she had begun planning her move. She drained her first glass of wine faster than she should have, before he’d even finished making the popcorn, letting the liquid courage percolate through her system. He settled in beside her with a large bowl in his lap, loaded with butter and salt just how she likes it, just the way he’s talked her into liking it; and she eased herself slowly closer to him on the worn leather couch until the heat of his thigh pressed against her own. By the time Leo G. Carrol’s assistant went up in flames, she was nestled quite cozily against him. She watched him from the corner of her eye, and saw with some satisfaction that he was watching her as well. 

She had never let herself get quite this close to him before, or at least not without some life-threatening context. (Except for that time on the baseball diamond, when she thought maybe this was it, but he had done nothing more than flirt and hit pop-flies and leave her flushed and frustrated).

But there were no invisible forest men now, no cultists armed with rifles, no bees or beasts or black-suited thugs. Just them, and a cheesy sci-fi movie, and a bowl of popcorn in his lap so that each time she reached for a handful she was acutely aware of just what lay beneath it; with each bite he would slowly lick the salt from his lips, and something in her heart would sputter. She had the sudden sense he was doing it on purpose - that he knew exactly what she was thinking, and as always, their minds were traveling down the same road together.

When the giant spider crested the dry scrubby hills surrounding Desert Rock, Arizona, to devour the hero, he had draped his arm across the back cushions, the very picture of a nervous teenager at the drive-in. She took the chance to move more closely still, the heat and the scent of him nearly overwhelming. Her heartbeat seemed to thrum through every inch of her body, and she felt certain he could feel it through her skin. She had stopped watching the screen entirely, unable to concentrate on anything but the pounding of her heart and the body of the man beside her. When she couldn’t stand it another second, she took one last breath for courage, turned in the circle of his arm, and tilted up to press her mouth to his.

The first brush of their lips was tentative, soft, toe-curlingly tender and if he tasted like wine and popcorn instead of seeds and beer, well, she was absolutely not complaining. When his tongue brushed against her lower lip, she opened for him, and the way his tongue slid into her mouth felt like coming home. Scully had thought that it would be enough just to kiss him, just  to sit together on the creaking leather of his old couch, under the warm, scratchy weight of the Navajo blanket he kept there more for her sake than for his, and languidly lap at the font of his mouth until morning. 

What she hadn’t anticipated, but in hindsight should have known based on years of observing his oral fixation, was that Fox Mulder would be an absolutely amazing kisser. He was slow and exploratory and unrelenting, running his tongue along her teeth and her lips and the roof of her mouth as if he could read her desires written there in braille. He nibbled at her lower lip and suckled at the upper and still she really could have just kissed, just necked him like a teenager for hours, until he cupped her jaw with one wide hand and his thumb brushed against the pulse point in her throat and she whimpered. Actually whimpered, a wholly unexpected, desperate, animal sound that she would have found utterly embarrassing had he not answered with a soft growl that reverberated down her throat and straight into her pelvis, and it was all bets off from there.

A whirl of hands and mouths and somehow she is lying half beneath him, his shirt gone and her sweater pushed up and that pretty new bra pulled down to expose one rosey-peaked breast to the dual pleasures of his hand and his mouth. When her knee brushes against his growing erection, he bites her nipple just hard enough to make her gasp. He chuckles into her skin and looks up to meet her eyes, delighted to find her pupils blown out with lust and her cheeks turning a beautiful shade of pink. Her fingers curl in his hair and pull; he releases her nipple with a sinfully wet pop and crashes his mouth into hers with a force that clacks their teeth together.

He rolls her over his body until she’s straddling him, heat blooming everywhere they touch. The soft springy hairs of his chest tickle her oversensitive skin, and he runs his hands from her shoulders, down the fine curve of her waist to grip and knead at the firm flesh of her ass. She scratches her nails across the broad plains of his shoulders - softly at first, then more firmly when he hums his assent into her mouth. The muscles of his back flex beneath her hands, and his whole body shudders as she moves them to his front, his nipples pebbling beneath her touch.

He pulls her down against him and presses up at the same time, trying to find some relief for the near-painful ache in his groin. She moans into his mouth and he does it again, and she arches against him in pleasure.

Mulder uses this distraction to pull her top off all the way, unclasping her bra with one hand and bringing his mouth back to her breast before the fabric has even hit the floor. She writhes above him, panting and gasping as he learns the right combination of lips, teeth, and tongue to make her shudder. Always such a curious mind, single-focused and driven, now turned to uncovering the mysteries of her body, and she revels in being the object of his obsession.

“I want you, Scully,” he whispers as he moves to the other breast. She arches into his mouth but doesn’t answer.

He stills, eyes wary, that lost little boy inside peeking through. Waiting for rejection, waiting for her to say it was all a mistake and walk away. With their height difference, their eyes are level now even with her straddling his lap. He brushes a lock of hair out of her eyes and gently thumbs her cheekbones. The sadness in his voice is palpable.  “Do you want to stop?” 

She shakes her head just slightly, her brows knitting together and her mouth moving into a particular smirk that, in the complex language of Scully Microexpressions, means I need a second to find the right words. His hands skim along her sides, walking the line between comforting, tickling, and arousing. It takes a few deep breaths before she remembers how to speak; the last one comes out on a shudder as she presses her lips to his forehead. 

The credits are rolling on the TV across the room, the monster immolated and the town safe; shadows flicker over their faces as she looks into his eyes, unsurprised to find a sheen of unshed tears there that matches her own. She had thought that meeting his gaze after they had kissed - or, more accurately, after he had her nipple in his mouth and his erection pressing against her - might be awkward, but like everything else between them the last seven years, it somehow feels natural. They’re stepping across this line together.

“I don’t want to stop, Mulder,” she whispers, nuzzling along his nose, “I’ve just been thinking about kissing you for so long, I never really let myself think about what might come after.”

“Mmm,” he hums into her skin, peppering her face with kisses before moving down her neck and along her collarbone. “Good thing I have.”

“Oh?” Her eyebrow lifts; he can hear it in her voice even though his face is buried in her hair.

“Often, and in great detail.” His lips find that same pulse point, right where her jaw meets her throat, and he grins as her thighs squeeze his. One hand cups the back of her head, tilting her this way and that so his mouth can reach every possible inch of skin; the other hand comes up to her breast, kneading and rolling. She is soft and pliant above him, allowing him to explore, making soft sounds each time he finds a sensitive spot, and his profiler’s mind is tucking each one away for later.

“Tell me,” she pants as he presses a kiss to the hollow of her throat. She slips her hand between them and presses her palm against the thick ridge of his erection, grinning as he moans into her skin. “Show me.”

"Christ, Scully. Where should I begin?" Mulder presses another kiss to her lips, so soft and tender she forgets how to breathe for a moment. He sips at her like fine wine, savoring each taste of her tongue, her lips, the ivory ridge of her teeth. By the time he pulls back she is shivering, aching to see what happens next.

"There is one thing I fantasize about quite frequently," he husks close to her ear. The scratch of his stubble is intoxicating. "I can't stop wondering what you taste like." He reaches between them to cup her, hot and throbbing, through her slacks, and her blushing nod is the only answer she can manage.

All she can do is moan in anticipation as he leans her slowly back, supporting the full weight of her in his arms, until her shoulders come to rest on the arm of the couch, his body nestled hard and hot between her trembling thighs. 

She will never again be able to smell leather without remembering this moment.

He kisses his way down her body with a slow deliberation that borders on agonizing, nipping and sucking and licking every inch he can reach. When his tongue swirls into the dip of her navel she nearly cries with pleasure. He runs his teeth over the ridge of her hip bones as he parts the zipper on her slacks. His mouth leaves her body only long enough to shuck the pants to the floor, and then he is nosing along the hem of her panties. 

"Fuck, Scully, I can smell you." He runs his fingers over the lacy fabric, scraping his nails along the gusset until she shakes. "You're so wet, you're soaking through."

With anyone else she might have felt embarrassed, but Mulder's words only enflame her further. She rolls her hips, shamelessly rubbing herself against him. "Please," she pants, "please touch me."

He laughs darkly, continuing to run his fingers slowly up and down the length of her slit, and rubs his stubble against the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. He licks her, once, over the lace, and she bucks desperately towards his mouth. “Easy there, G-woman,” he murmurs, pressing her back down with one firm hand on her hip. “I’m living my dream, here.”

She laughs, a short huff that eases some of the tension in her gut, and tries to relax into his ministrations. He smiles as she softens beneath him, and rewards her by sliding one long finger under the sheer scrap of fabric, just barely grazing her entrance. “So wet,” he says again. 

He looks up to see that her eyes have fluttered closed. “Look at me,” he says, and when she finds enough will to meet his eyes, he lifts his finger, glistening with her wetness, into his mouth and sucks deeply. "You're just as sweet as I imagined."

“Fuck,” she whimpers, and knows she is dripping. “More. Please.”

Apparently he renders her monosyllabic.

“How much do you love these?” he asks, appraising the delicate lace, the tiny stitches along the seams.

“Not at all. Hate them. Please.” She is gasping, writhing, and when he rips her panties off she nearly keens with pleasure.

He stares at her for so long she begins to feel nervous, and a flush creeps up her chest and floods her cheeks. He takes in the auburn thatch of curls between her thighs, the dark pink swell of her labia, the tiny freckles sprinkled across the creamy expanse of her skin. He drags his fingers down the length of her slit, marveling at the way her lower lips spread for him, at the moisture leaking from her sweet little cunt. “Beautiful,” he breathes.

“Mulder,” she huffs, squirming, “if you don’t quit staring and touch me soon, I’m going to shoot you. Again.”

A quick grin and then his mouth is on her, his tongue lapping at the entrance to her sex, and the first brush of his lips over her clit nearly sends her over the edge. 

If the way he kissed her felt obsessive, he eats her out with something that borders on worship.

He slides one long finger inside her, then another, curling them against her front wall until he finds the spot that makes her gush and shake around him. He flicks his tongue over the hardened nub of her clitoris - slow, fast, gentle, hard - and she fists her hands in his hair when it’s just the right combination. He presses the hood back with his thumb and suckles directly on the little bundle of nerves; her belly coils tight with pleasure and she manages to gasp, “Yes, there, I’m so close, oh -” before she can’t make sense anymore.

He swirls and suckles on her clit, pumping gently in and out with his fingers, and experimentally runs his little finger down her perineum to brush gently over the tight pucker of her asshole. She shudders and her whimpers reach a new, higher pitch. He hums his satisfaction into her dripping sex, and that’s all it takes - she is gone, shaking and gasping and making strangled little cries that might be his name.

Mulder continues to lap tenderly at her sex as she comes down, riding out tremors and trembles until she is heavy-limbed and boneless beneath him. Her smile looks almost drunken as she cards her fingers through his hair. “Good, Scully?” he asks, pressing a kiss to her inner thigh.

She nods and hums, riding a cloud of oxytocin. He eases out from between her legs; her smile begins to fade into confusion until he slides one arm beneath her knees and the other behind her back, lifting her easily, and carries her down the hall to his bedroom.

His sheets are softer than she had expected, as if he had been hoping for company; she wonders if this is the first time he has prepared a bed for them, how many movie nights he has slept alone on these soft sheets after the door snicked shut behind her without so much as a kiss. The thought strikes a surprisingly sad chord in her heart.

The bed dips as he settles in beside her, and she curls into his open arms with a happy sigh. “A girl could get used to this,” she murmurs, pressing a kiss to his bare chest.

“I sure hope she does,” he answers.

She drapes one of her legs over his and - “Oh.” She lifts the sheet and sees he somehow still has his jeans on, and is still sporting a rather impressive tent. “You appear to be overdressed,” she teases.

“Don’t worry about me, Scully. This has already been so much more than I -”

She puts a finger over his lips and shoots him one of her more serious looks. “Mulder. Shut up.”

And, for perhaps the first time in his life, he does.

Scully’s legs are still a little weak as she climbs on top of him, rubbing herself shamelessly over the bulge in his pants. She’s wet again already and hungry for him in a way she hasn’t felt in years. Her hair falls around them in an amber curtain as she leans down to kiss him, long and slow and deep. He’s grinning like an idiot by the time she pulls away, and she decides that looking down on Mulder may be her new favorite place to be. 

She grinds down harder with her hips, the seam of his jeans pressing right where she wants it the most. He moans, trying not to buck beneath her and throw off her rhythm. He has to clench his fists in the sheets. She’s making a wet spot on his pants; he’ll have to wash them - and the sheets, and the couch - in the morning, but he couldn’t care less about any of that because Scully’s breasts are bouncing just in front of his face and she is writhing on top of him like an animal in heat. He reaches for her hips, trying to get just a little more pressure, but she grabs his wrists and holds them down.

“Nuh-uh,” she huffs. “You made me beg. Now it’s your turn.” She waits until he stops trying to lift his hands, then rakes her nails down his chest, leaving little streaks of pink in their wake.

“Fuck, Scully,” he moans, throwing his head back and thrusting up with his hips, which only makes her lift herself away. “I don’t know how much of this I can take.”

She only casts him a wicked grin before lowering her mouth to his, plunging her tongue deep inside and moaning. He is the first to break away, gasping for breath, and she waits for his eyes to find hers before she leaves a trail of hot, wet kisses down the length of his torso. He is not as sensitive as she had been, though he does jump when she runs her tongue across the firm plains of his stomach. She finds the fine trail of dark hair beneath his navel and nips and sucks her way down it until it ends at the waist of his pants.

He expects her to undo the fly and pull them off, but instead she rubs her cheek against the stiff bulge of his cock, as if to mark it with her scent. She catches his eye again, to make sure he is watching, and then runs her tongue slowly over the full length of it. She can taste herself on the fabric and is surprised at how erotic it is.

“God, Scully. Please.”

“Mmm,” she hums against him and thumbs open the button on his fly. “Begging. I see the appeal.” She slides one hand under the waistband and scratches through the coarse hair just above his cock.

“I would get on my knees but I think something might break off.”

“Then allow me.”

She kneels between his legs, pulling down his zipper and shimmying his soft jeans down the length of his legs. She has a moment to wonder at the fact that he doesn’t appear to be wearing any boxers - does he go commando in general these days, or, like the sheets, was he hoping for something to happen tonight? - and then her eyes land on his cock and she forgets how to think.

She’s seen him naked before, of course, but always under the guise of a medical professional. Glimpsing his body while treating injury or disease is one thing. Never has she seen him hard, and now faced with the full monty - or rather, the full Mulder - she is only slightly more impressed than intimidated. She takes him in her hand, pumping up and down slowly, and a small bead of precum leaks from the purple tip. Her heart jumps, her mouth begins to water, and she licks her lips as she realizes it’s all for her.

“Oh Christ, don’t do that,” he moans, eyes glued to her mouth. “I’m trying to be cool here.” So of course she stares into his eyes, parts her lips, and then very slowly runs her tongue in a full circle around them.

He’s about to say something else but it cuts off with a gurgle when she takes him into her mouth. He’s too big to take in too deeply just yet, but she licks the tip of him like an ice cream cone, her tongue moving in lazy circles as she pumps him languidly with one hand. The other comes up beneath to cup the soft weight of his balls. He is salty and tangy and strangely sweet, and she moans as the taste of him floods her senses. She is so aroused it’s almost painful, and she wishes she had a third hand so she could touch herself as she sucks him. She takes him deeper, surprised at how much she enjoys this - the twitching of his thighs as he tries not to thrust, the way he is moaning her name between strings of curse words, the startling way his cock bumps against the back of her throat.

She’s just beginning to wonder if she can relax her throat enough to swallow him further down when Mulder’s hands land suddenly in her hair, pulling her mouth away from him with a wet and undignified slurping sound. “Hey,” she protests, donning an exaggerated and teasing pout. Her mouth and chin glisten with a mix of saliva and precum. “I was enjoying that.”

He sits up and slides his fingers between her legs. “I can tell,” he says, circling her clit and making her gasp. “And don’t get me wrong, I was too. But…”

He pulls her up the length of his body until she is nestled in his lap, her thighs braced on either side of his and his cock only inches from the wet heat of her cunt. “Please, Scully.”

“More begging?,” she purrs as she takes him in her fist again. She shifts so she can rub the tip of him between her wet and swollen folds until he moans. She positions him right against her entrance, his tip just barely inside. “Is this what you want?” she pants. For all the playfulness in her voice, she is trembling with want, and shudders as she feels herself dripping around him.

“Yes,” he hisses into her ear, crushing her tight against him and pressing his hips up. He slips another inch inside her. “Fuck me, Scully, please.” Another small thrust, another inch of her clenching around him.

Enough teasing, she decides. Enough begging. Enough waiting.

She doesn’t trust her voice not to break, so she only nods and kisses him as if she could devour him whole.

She slides down onto him slowly, adjusting to the width of him until he is buried to the hilt. They are both shaking now, their panting breaths a humid cloud between them. A long moment passes before she can move, before her body can handle the way he stretches and fills her. She is slow and deliberate, rising until he nearly slips from her body, then easing down to grind her clit against his pelvis. Waves of pleasure wash through her with each stroke, and she drops her head to his shoulder, overwhelmed.

He reaches down to cup her ass, spreading her wide and taking some control over her motion. They moan in unison as he begins to thrust in counterpoint to the slow roll of her hips.

It doesn’t take long before Scully begins to feel the flame of another orgasm kindle deep in her belly. The moan that comes from her throat belongs to another woman, one who is wild and wanton and apparently capable of coming more than once in a night; and oh how she wants to be that woman.

“Mulder,” she pants, “I need - I’m -” Another moan, and the coil inside her tightens further, closing off her ability to speak.

He understands, he always understands, licking his thumb and then sliding it between their sweating bodies to press hard against her clit. “Fuck, yes, Scully,” he says as she grinds down on his hand. “I want to feel you come.”

His mouth seeks out that same damn spot on her neck that started this whole thing, sucking and nibbling with the same rhythm of his thumb circling her clit. “Come for me, Scully,” he growls into her skin, and then bites down hard enough to bruise.

She shatters around him, bucking her hips wildly against him and muffling her cries of “Mulder, oh God, Mulder,” into his shoulder until she is hoarse. He tumbles over the edge right behind her, hot and pulsing, and the feel of his cock twitching as he fills her with his cum is nearly enough to set her off again.

They stay entwined for a long time, shudders passing back and forth between them, until their sweat cools and their mingled fluids begin to leak onto his thighs. 

Mulder leans back first, brushing damp hair from her face so he can look into her eyes. “Hey.”

Her answering smile is almost bashful, but there’s not an ounce of regret in it. “Hey.”

“So. Wine. Fancy underwear. That sweater.”

“No boxers,” she counters. “Clean, soft sheets?”

She quirks an eyebrow, he tilts his chin and smiles.

And just like that they are themselves, again, still, always, but now with a new layer of togetherness to explore. He moistens a washcloth in the bathroom sink and tenderly cleans them both, and they curl up on the soft - if rumpled and damp - sheets together.

They do not share “I love you”s. Not tonight. Not yet. But they both feel it in the brush of the other’s fingers, taste it in the tenderness of the last kiss they share before falling asleep together.

And that is enough.

[dom-nautica]

Hi I wanted to ask you a question and also (politely) clarify something for you that I think you may have misunderstood.

To clarify: you have brought up the fact that Shelby pressured to marry Wilbur a very early in their relationship. In Shelby’s original stream however she says that it was actually Wilbur who “talked about ‘forever’ one month in”. It sounds like she also wanted ‘forever’ with him, but that it seems it was not pressured on him originally, but something he was also looking for. She only became upset later when he told her he changed his mind. Which I agree is not a reasonable thing to be upset about to the extent that she was, but it wasn’t her pressuring it on him at first, it was a mutual honeymoon phase where they both wanted a ‘happily ever after’ so to speak.

And my question: you’ve mentioned that you take msr to describe how Wilbur felt suffocated in the relationship. Could you explain that a bit more, like what it is that makes you think that and what specific songs/lyrics mean to you? I have been interpreting it differently (to me, it seems like a genuine expression of woe that the relationship didn’t turn out, both for reasons that he messed up about or that she messed up about, or for wanting different things) and I would love to hear where you’re coming from.

Again I mean no harm with this, just wanted to point something out that seemed inaccurate according to the knowledge I have, as well as ask about where you’re coming from with your interpretation (:

Certainly.

Wilbur and his past friends have mocked that he had a crush on Shelby for years. When she broke-up with her long-term boyfriend they quickly jumped into a relationship. I don't have a source, but I was told it wasn't even a week after she broke up they got together. Thats very quick to get into a relationship and then start talking about marriage in a month. Yes, it's honey-moon fazed.

They didn't even date a full year, but Soot went from a lovesick man to a skinny, depressed mess. So what happened?

I have to remind you that Shelby keeps a pristine innocent look to her entire career. Anytime she mocked her exes, which her long-term fans confirm existed, she deleted every post. You'll find only a clean slate of nothing negative about her. She has done this before and it seems she always does this AFTER they break-up with her. She cannot handle rejection. I believe this is what happened between her and Soot.

She saw a man she could live comfortably with and she took a leap of faith. The landing wasn't what she wanted. It was a guy that loved her without knowing who she is, but he wasn't giving her money, enough attention, time, etc. He also had traits she highly disliked such as depression and kinks.

She was still trying to get with him, even when Soot was already dating his new girlfriend! Soot was enamored by her, but accepted they don't clash together well. Soot got to know her, realized they are vastly different (which was obvious) and moved on - she didn't.

I think her reaction came from multiple things - her religious upbringing and pressure to settle down, her past boyfriends lack of obsessive admiration (which soot provided for a few months) and her own low self-worth. A confident person leaves with their emotions intact - she went out screaming she's a victim and trying her best to destroy his life. She didn't want him to be happy without her, so she grasped at straw such as "he didn't pay for my cat sitter" to somehow justify her hate for him.

The marriage comment was a stab at his lack of commitment. I fully believe soot just wanted a situationship with her, but she demanded more.

Regarding his songs in MSR:

The cover art depicts him wounded, based on the story its illustrated from: a little boy is trying to figure out who killed his neighboors dog. Its later revealed that the person that noone suspected had killed it. Hinting that: noone suspects the person that killed Soot.

The title is Mammalian Sighing Reflex - the action of trying to get air while you are drowning. Its a desperate attempt to survive. Shelby lashed out and made the allegations when this album dropped. The trying to survive and drowning feeling was her. Recently he also changed his bio to "gasping" which indicates he survived her - he didnt drown.

"I start to believe You never liked me at all" - he realises she just jumped into the relationship without thinking or getting to know him.

"I stand just out of reach of your fists" - she physically attacks him.

"You kiss me like it was your job" - Shelby didnt actually love him, she just wanted to settle down with anyone.

"I just want to feel normal again I just want to have meals with my friend I just can't go through this again Find my comfort in envisioning the end" - hes exhausted, he wants this feeling to end regardless even if its ending himself.

"Then in doing so, uh, I feel sad (He feels sad) Which is not a good feeling when you're supposedly in a good phase So as almost a self-sabotage, if you will, uh" - he's "manic". he's unhappy, but people expect him to be so he pretends he is. he pretends until he physically can't anymore.

"And I'll shave my head And forget my name" - he hates where he is in life. he isn't happy. hes dreaming of a different life somewhere else.

"I'll live with you until our bones grow old Ain't that miserable?" straight to the point. the idea of growing old with Shelby makes him miserable. through the album you can feel both anxiety, self-destruction and acceptance. the entire album he's trying to convince himself to be happy. He should be happy - he's with Shelby, his crush, so why isn't he happy?

"The melatonin doesn't work Anymore The Valium just stops the hurt But not the cortisol" - none of his medications work anymore.

"Help, why the fuck do I still self-sabotage When I'm finally happy?" he listened to what people told him. he has a gf, they want to get married, live together - but he feels trapped. he should feel happy, but he doesn't.

"Nothing around here fucking works We're justified abhorrent We're all apes with a diary book And corporate reads your pages" - self-defeat. society reads his pages, tells him what to do and he realizes he can't escape it. its anxiety and hes still forced to perform that hes ok. he IS performin - but hes not happy about it. hes trapped.

Im gonna shorten the analysis for the next ones, because this post is very long ;_;

Oh Distant You, Eulogy, Dropshipped Cat Shirt, Trying Not To Think About It - is Soot comparing Shalby to his pas ex which he sang about in lovejoy. He's sad he lost both, but he lets them go.

The Median - he hopes someone will understand WHO he was talking about. Similar to him using the word "ex" he wont say her name.

10 Week Rule - he wants to end himself.

Theres so much more to the songs, but like i said the post is just too long, I probably should have made a doc instead...

Overall: hes not happy, hes tired just by looking at his songs. his mental state is rock bottom - hes drowning, but after their breakup he updated that hes gasping (so he survived, barely)

Looking at Shlebys comments she was extremely unhappy with him (the horrible comments she said public are definitely polish for the public, i don't even want to imagine what she was like with him in private) and seeing his own physical state its even a bigger indicator he lost hope in saving himself. He's hanging on by a thread basically.

The entire internet also attacking him - 100% doesn't help.

[azure-firecracker]

X-Files Masterpost

This post will be a central location where y’all can locate all of the X-Files content I make on this blog. Hopefully it makes it easier for things to be found! The goal is to update semi-regularly, but it will not always be 100% up to date. Also bear in mind that I am a first-time watcher, so please refer to my most recent posts if you want to know where I am in the show. I hope this is helpful!

My favorite thing about this fandom is how friendly y’all are, so please feel free to come to me with questions about any of my TXF stuff, fic or meta requests, random asks, or anything at all:)

My X-Files Fanfic

I have a general rule of not replying to comments for mental health reasons, but if you read these, know that I cherish every single comment and they often make my day, so please consider commenting if you enjoy:)

Beneath the Ice, Beneath My Skin (Teen and Up, 9,984 words): My first fic! An alternate version of Ice where Mulder is actually infected by the parasites. Paranoia and tension ensue!

Flight and Sanctuary (Teen and Up, 6,656 words): Scully and Mulder deal with the aftermath of Irresistible. Lots of angst, lots of worry, lots of hurt/comfort. As of the creation of this post, this is my most popular fic.

(And FANART! By @scullysmywife ! Yippee!)

Salvation (Teen and Up, 7,599 words): Mulder’s perspective during his missing scenes in The Erlenmeyer Flask, followed by how he and Scully cope with the trauma. Very angsty featuring some torture. 2 chapters: one during the episode, one after. The chapters can be read individually or together.

Save Me from the Fire (Teen and Up, 5,672 words): An alternate version of Our Town where Mulder and Scully switch places. Very tense, but also very heartfelt and tender (I hope). A personal favorite of mine.

And FANART❤️❤️❤️ by @scullysmywife

Piece Me Together (General Audiences, 3,147 words): Scully takes care of Mulder post-731. Introspection and moments of extreme proximity ensue. Probably the most introspection-heavy fic I’ve written.

Caught on Tape (Teen and Up, 4,044 words): Scully finds tapes that Mulder made for her while she was abducted. Very emotional, almost pure angst with a bittersweet ending.

I Hate All of My Habits, But I Happen to Love You (General Audiences, 5,066 Words): A series of vignettes depicting Mulder’s internal monologue throughout some pivotal/my favorite MSR moments, as he slowly realizes he’s falling in love. This fic was a birthday present to myself:)

Raise Your Voices (Teen and Up, WIP): My ongoing multi-chapter fic in which Mulder and Scully go undercover in a community choir. Set in Season 2, featuring lots of fluff, humor, angst, hurt/comfort, and little tidbits about folk music from all corners of the world.

(And FANART! By the amazing @scullysmywife !)

Fic Rec Roundup (Seasons 1-3): Favorite fics I’ve read.

My Season Reviews

Season 1

Season 2

Season 3

Season 4

Individual Episode Takes

Deep Throat

Ice

Beyond the Sea

Irresistible

End Game

Anasazi

Syzygy

Wetwired

Memento Mori

Small Potatoes

Demons

Meta

Mulder + Scully + Saving Each Other

Intelligence Comparison

Mulder + Scully + Needing Saving

Season 2 Abduction Arc

The Problem with Season 2

Conversation on the Rock

What they Need to Hear: Irresistible vs. Teliko

Bringing Him Back to Life

MSR + Truth and Lies

Playlists

Mulder

Scully

Me Ranting About The Mulder and Scully Playlists (Not a Playlist)

TXF x Songs

MSR x Gracie Abrams Songs

MSR x Billie Eilish

Miscellaneous

Mulder + Scully being lousy at their jobs ( +Addendum)

Acknowledging Scully + Mulder’s good agent-ing in Season 1

Fanfiction Writers Made TXF

Why I love MSR

X-Files Episode Locations Game

My Camp Roommate’s Reaction to TXF

Criticizing the Score (+ Accompanying Meme)

Scully the “Rational One”

X-Files Ask Game

Pet Headcanons!

Holiday Headcanons

[unremarkablehouse]

Respite

PG |MSR URST| WC 1183| AO3

Tagging: @today-in-fic

Summary: Set during S2 Little Green Men, Scully takes Mulder to a motel in Miami to recuperate after they flee Puerto Rico. Once he’s recovered from the dehydration she has some questions regarding his mysterious lunch date.

The air conditioner buzzed in the dark hotel room, blocking out the Miami heat but blowing the blinds just enough to let slithers of light in. He should be sleeping, between the dehydration and the state he was in when Scully found him, a hospital stay with some fluids would have been the smarter choice. Then again, if Mulder had made smarter decisions he wouldn’t be lying in a budget motel with his favorite redhead using his chest as her own personal body pillow and taped evidence of UFOs.

“You’re not sleeping? Are you feeling nauseous again? Drink your fluids.”

Mumbled from his chest Scully blindly reached for his Gatorade concoction on the bedside table and pushed it on him. With a slight chuckle, Mulder obediently drank, he knew not to argue with a sleepy Dr Scully, especially seeing she had just saved his life and risked herself for no other reason than to help him.

“I’m okay Scully, the sunlight just woke me up I think. Go back to sleep.”

Putting the empty bottle on the bedside table, Mulder gently stroked Scully’s hair and let out a yawn. ‘Why did she come?’ His brain was now fixated on that question and he couldn’t stop churning it over in his mind. They were no longer Partners and he had not been a particularly good friend to her since The X Files was shut down.

“Mulder, what’s wrong? You’re tensing up, are you feeling nauseous?”

Sitting up to look at him, Scully inspected his pupils, gently running her hands through his hair more than was medically necessary.

“Why are you here Scully?”

Scully’s eyes crinkled in confusion and a frown formed on her lips.

“I was worried about you. I didn’t know what trouble you got yourself into- I just thought you might need me.”

Grabbing her hand with his Mulder slowly made eye contact with Scully, letting her see the vulnerability in his eyes without the usual mask of deflection he normally wore as a defense mechanism.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve had a friend like you- if ever. Scully, I’m sorry I’ve been an ass, I didn’t want to risk something happening to you. It was stupid, thank you for being here.”

Nestling back down on Mulder’s chest, Scully made herself comfortable as she replied.

“You’re welcome Mulder, but no more clandestine outings in D.C ok?”

“Fine.”

“Your heart rate has slowed down and your breathing is a lot less labored now, I think the hydration solution is working.”

With a smile Mulder scoffed.

“No, I think it’s just having you here. For the first time in months I feel this overarching sense that things are going to be okay. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I also have this strange urge to protect you.”

With her eyes still closed, a feint smile was the only hint that gave her amusement away.

“That’s not surprising Mulder, studies have shown that our bodies are wired to respond to physical contact after a traumatic event, the autonomic nervous system floods the body with hormones to help deactivate the flight or fight reflexes. As for the impulse to protect me, I assume that’s just a latent Neanderthal complex.”

Mulder’s body vibrated with a chuckle, holding Scully closer to him as he replied.

“Keep talking like that Scully and I won’t be clubbing you and bringing you back to my cave.”

“Don’t worry Mulder, if someone breaks in here you can flail at them with your club while I grab my gun and shoot them.”

“My protector!”

A silence fell over the room and Mulder marveled at how much he missed this playful banter with Scully. Her sharp wit always kept him on his toes he mused, as he brushed an errant strain of hair off her face.

“Speaking of potential threats Mulder, you got a call from a woman while I was at your apartment. She seemed pretty mad; you stood her up for your lunch date?”

Scully was proud that her voice had managed to make her inquiry sound casual, but she was very interested in the details. Mulder tried to fein obliviousness for a moment but the moment he looked into Scully’s sharp eyes he knew she wasn’t buying it and crumbled.

“Oh, that was Becky from forensic accounting.”

This got Scully’s attention and she bolted upright.

“Wait, you asked Becky out?! You know she stole my lunch Mulder!”

Trying to hide his amusement at Scully’s reaction, Mulder held his hands up in defense.

“It was just yogurt-”

“It had my name on it and she ate it in front of me! What kind of person does that? Seriously, of all the people at the FBI, I can’t believe you asked her out.”

Scully punctuated her rant with a hard shove on Mulder’s shoulder, and moved away from him on the bed. With a glare she violently grabbed the pillow under his head and took it for herself as she turned her back to him. With a hard thud Mulder’s head hit the bed, and he couldn’t help but be amused by Scully’s reaction, he liked that this bothered her. Rolling over to invade Scully’s space, Mulder tried to gently touch Scully’s arm but she pulled away dramatically.

“It’s not like that Scully. I needed a cover for my trip, so I asked her to lunch to throw anyone off the trail because she's not discreet and would tell half the Hoover building we had plans.”

Mulder rolled back, lying flat on the bed and letting his words sink in.

“Wait, you asked her out to lunch knowing you were going to stand her up?”

“Well, you told me she stole your yogurt- ”

“Mulder! She sounded really pissed, what are you going to say when you see her?”

“I’ll say ‘sorry’, and if that doesn’t work maybe you can shoot her?”

“Deal.”

With a chuckle Scully handed Mulder back the pillow and resumed her position of lying on his chest. It took only seconds for her to start feeling the sweet pull of sleep calling her.

“Hey Scully-“

Knowing he wouldn’t stop unless she acknowledged him Scully uttered a reply.

“Yeah…”

“I love you.”

“Thanks Mulder. Maybe, I’d love you more if you shut up so we could get some sleep.”

With a snort Mulder acknowledged her request but she could feel he wasn’t finished yet.

“Can you get me the 2inch player from Quantico Monday? I want you to be there when I play you back what I heard, it was crazy!”

“Yes Mulder, but don’t get your hopes up, there was a lot of electrical discharge in the room. We don’t know if the recording was ok or what we can even do with it.”

“I know, I just want you to hear it.”

“Mulder. Sleep.”

“Fine. At least I know not to eat your yogurt.”

“Don’t make me shoot you.”

And with that they both fell into a heavy sleep, their bodies strung out on adrenaline, needing to fuel up for whatever awaited them at home.

[sagan-starstuff]

Secret Santa Gift Exchange Questionnaire

Starting broad, tell your Santa about your relationship to The X-Files. This could be how you got into The X-Files in the first place, what the show means to you, or just general information you think might be relevant for your Santa to know.

My mother was an X-Phile long before I was, she watched from the Pilot on. She was in chat rooms, on alt.tv.xfiles, in fic groups. I was afraid of the theme song at first, so much so that I made her mute it if I was still awake. I started watching in 1997, when I was 11 years old. I don't really remember my first episode - some time during the cancer arc. By the time the summer of 1997 was over, thanks to my mom's recorded episodes on VHS and re-runs on FX, I was fully caught up and 100% a shipper when Redux I premiered, and I've been obsessed ever since. I lived and breathed X-files, accumulated stacks of spiral notebooks full of bad tween fic and drawings, scrawled quotes and logos on the covers of my school binders. I was in chatrooms and on Haven, reading fic on Gossamer waaaaay too young, but everyone there still made me feel like I belonged. I was a weird, lonely tween/teen who had an incredibly hard time relating to my peers thanks to being skipped ahead a grade, but I could pretend Mulder and Scully were my friends. They were the smartest people in the room, they were outcasts, too. If they could be smart and strong, I could, too. The fandom gave me a community when middle school couldn't. I met my best friend in 1999 when she wore an X-Files shirt the first week of high school. I decided to become a doctor because Scully showed me that I could. I watched the way that Mulder and Scully loved each other with their minds and souls, and decided that I would never accept any less for myself.

I feel like I'm rambling, but I cannot understate the influence that The X-Files has had on my life. It was always a comfort for me, even when I was in college and the chatrooms and boards started to go dark. I lost connection with the fandom by the time IWTB came out, but I never loved the show any less. When my husband and I first started dating, I'd invite him over to watch X-Files with me...and we did, for a while, before we got up to other activities. He says I seduced him with The X-Files. It worked!

I reconnected with the fandom in 2023, and I wish so much that I'd known you all were out there this long. Finding other X-Philes, now in their 30's, 40's and beyond, has been such a treasure. As has been finding out that people in their teens and 20's love the show, too! I love seeing younger fans, people who may not even have been ALIVE for a lot of the original run. This is how we survive, how the show lives on.

I wear Mulder and Scully on my skin now. They'll be with me until I die.

2. Tell your Santa about your favorites! Favorite characters, favorite moments, favorite episodes, favorite seasons, favorite ships, etc.

This is so hard! My favorite will always be Scully but I love Mulder endlessly, even when he's an idiot. My favorite side character is Byers, though it's hard separating him from the rest of the Gunmen. My favorite moments...god, so many. But a moment I come back to again and again is Scully facing down the senate committee in Tunguska to protect Mulder. She displays strength, grace, and integrity that I can only aspire too. Every MSR moment is my favorite. My favorite seasons are 4-6, I cannot choose between them.

3. Tell your Santa about your LEAST favorites! We all love our show, but it also sucks sometimes. Which parts suck the most for you?

I hate season 9 - its like the writers forgot who these characters were. Mulder would never leave his new family after a lifetime of trauma from the loss of his old one. Scully would never give William up. Parts of season 8 are ok, though the way Mulder is written after his return is absolute character assassination, and I HAAAAAATE the secret brain disease. I don't even acknowledge it. I don't like IWTB much. I HAAAAAATE the My Struggles. I have...come to terms with the breakup, though I'll never like it. The Revival gave us a few great episodes and amazing moments. The parts of the show I rewatch most are season 1-7. Oh, and I hate Diana, but don't we all?

4. Tell your Santa your favorite tropes and genres! Only one bed? Friends to lovers? 5+1? Fluff, angst, hurt/comfort? You get the idea.

Ohhh I love first kiss/first time, I love love confessions, I love hurt/comfort. I like angst but only if it has a happy or hopeful ending. I looove Only One Bed, or huddling for warmth. I love fluff. I'm not a big AU fan unless it's a fix-it fic (like Mulder not leaving Scully and William, or Scully not giving Will up). I also love slice of life fic, seeing all their lost moments in rental cars and airports just...existing together.

5. Tell your Santa about tropes you tend to avoid.

Major Character Death, SA/Non-Con. I just want Mulder and Scully to be safe and loved.

6. For your Santa, but also just for fun, describe your ideal X-Files episode. Is it mythology? MotW? A literal porno? 

MOTW with an aspect that emotionally affects Mulder or Scully, with some nice MSR and evolution of feelings. I'm also down with a literal porno.

7. Speaking of pornography, tell your Santa what your spice preference is, using the following scale:

Salt only⁠ ⁠— No spice at all please! I.e. General audience rating.

Black pepper ⁠— A hint of spice. I.e. Teen rating.

Chili pepper ⁠— There’s a bit of a kick! I.e. Mature rating.

Habanero ⁠— Definitely spicy, but most spice lovers can handle it. I.e. Explicit rating.

✨Ghost pepper✨ ⁠— Only for the spiciest of spice lovers. I.e. VERY explicit/kink/POANG rating.

I will read anything Salt-Habanero, for Ghost Pepper it depends on the kink. Not into choking, non-consensual anything, nothing involving urine/feces, not a big anal fan, no physical or mental degradation of any kind. No feet.

8. Those are the most important things, but I want there to be ten questions because it’ll look better, so tell your Santa what ONE song you would pick to describe MSR. (Or if you’re not into MSR, pick a song for your favorite ship, or for TXF as a whole.)

The canonical MSR song is Walking After You by the Foo Fighters. Lovers in a Dangerous Time by the Barenaked ladies is also them in a nutshell.

9. Almost there. Pick your favorite TXF quote. 

"Please explain the scientific nature of The Whammy."

10. Aaaaand, ten. And the last question can be open ended: Is there anything else you think is important for your Santa to know? Put it here!

Thank you for being a part of the best fandom on the planet! Please feel free to reach out to me with questions or even just to chat!

[randomfoggytiger]

Curated: Baroness Blixen's Car Conversations

I know for a fact these aren't all her car convo fics-- but one can only do one's best~.

@baronessblixen‘s (Ao3) 

Bruises (Tumblr)

“I can’t go any faster,” he replies absent-mindedly, his fingers still drumming without rhythm.

“That’s not what I was - are you all right, Mulder?”

“Yeah,” he answers too quickly. “Why wouldn’t I be? Are- are you? Are you all right, Scully?” This is the first time he’s glancing over at her. His eyes, like everything else about him, are restless. They land on her wrists, linger for a second too long to be an accident.

Post One Breath Mulder is paranoid over bruises on Scully's wrists.

39 - scully

"What about the others?" Up until now, she's forgotten about the search party that she and Mulder are a part of. So often it's just the two of them; it's easy to forget that there are other people.

"I don't care about them," he says matter-of-factly.

Scully twists her ankle in a forest; and Mulder insists on carrying her back to the car.

#20 MSR for the angst prompt thing :)/Prompts & Drabbles - Chapter 22

“You’re not asking. I’m offering. Staying with your mom sounds wonderful. She can make you that soup again. What was it?” Steadying her, he gently leads her out of the office. He knows she’s going to fall asleep as soon as he puts her in the car.  

“Carrot soup.” Her voice sounds almost dreamy, the corners of her mouth lifting into a weak smile.

Cancer arc Mulder pressures Scully to let him take care of her.

Let's Talk About This (Not) Part II (Tumblr) and Let’s Talk About This (Not) Part III

Post Small Potatoes Mulder and Scully finally have a conversation about their feelings (and more) on the way back from prison.

Demons

“I’m a medical doctor,” Scully says to the police officer in charge, “I’ll take care of him.” Mulder lets himself be maneuvered by her. As Scully gently tips his head to help him into the car, she feels her own head start to throb. She hasn’t had time to think of herself in hours. She hasn’t been drinking enough water and she can’t remember when she last ate. They will need to figure something out. First she’ll need to make sure Mulder is safe, though, away from here, and his demons. Looking at him through the car window, his glance empty, she knows she can’t save him. Not from that.

Post Demons Scully's reflections.

21 for the date fic prompts. Please! :)

"It’s a good movie – a classic," Mulder goes on when she remains quiet, “We’ve been on the road quite a lot these last few weeks despite our current assignment,” he almost spits the last word, “and I thought we could take a break. I know you wanted to get out of the car,” he chuckles, turning his face towards the huge screen, “but maybe being in the car like this, maybe…” Mulder clears his throat and regards her; his expression is hard to read in the semi-darkness now, “It’s as close to a normal life as I can muster right now, Scully. Sothis,” he gestures vaguely, “can be whatever you want it to be.”

Post Dreamland II Mulder takes Scully to a drive-in movie theater.

Fictober 2020 - Chapter 27 (Tumblr)

“Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” She looks up briefly and adjusts her glasses. He likes when she wears them.

“That noise.” He’s grinning but Scully is unfazed, her nose buried in the file.

Dating-- Scully lets off a stink bomb, and Mulder evens the playing field.

This is a momentous moment: my oldest prompt!

Impatient (Ao3)

"Scully?" His voice gets louder, sounds impatient.  

"I'm here." She mumbles into her pillow before she turns her head to look at the time: 4.42 am. Oh, Mulder, why.

Post Millennium Mulder, driven by urgency, pops up at Scully's apartment... despite her strict orders to the contrary.

Mulder Breaks The Rules (Tumblr)

“I can’t do it. They say it might be two weeks, or a month – maybe more. Knowing our luck, Scully, this quarantine is going to be a whole year. I couldn’t – I can’t – take that chance.”

“What chance?” She parrots.

“That this,” he gestures wildly between them, “ends before it even had a chance to start...." 

AU-- Post Millennium Mulder breaks quarantine to drive over to Scully.

A Reassuring Touch (Tumblr)

“I’ll be there as soon as I can, Scully.”

“Mulder, you don’t have to-”

“I want to, Scully. I want to be there.” He listens to her breathe once more, as if to reassure himself that she, too, is real, and then he hangs up.

Post Three Words Scully calls in the early hours of the morning, afraid that it had all been a dream.

"Look at me- just breath, okay"

“Mulder.” Scully sounds of out of breath as she looks at him. There’s a soft sheen of sweat on her forehead that he wants to touch. She swats his hand away. “We need to go, now.”

Right. Even though she’s in labor, even though she’s waddling, Scully is in charge.

AU-- Essence Scully is having her baby right. now. And Mulder is trying to figure out how to navigate the situation with he, his partner, Doggett, and Reyes all crammed in one car.

With You By My Side - Chapter 1 (Tumblr)

“Hm,” Mulder grinned in relief, feeling Scully’s eyes on him, “This is kinda like before, isn’t it? Us driving through the night to some place in the middle of nowhere?” Scully stared down at the piece of paper, a scribbled note, and wondered when she’d next see Agent Doggett. If there was going to be a next time. Would it ever stop?

“Georgia,” Mulder mumbled absent-mindedly, “has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

AU-- Essence Scully insists that Mulder make an escape with her.

Driving Lessons - Chapter 1 (Tumblr)

He, unlike Scully, is not used to this. Not only does he have to make sure he’s packed everything he needs, no, he has to make sure this child – their son – is well taken care of in the few days they’ll be gone. This is the first out of town case since Will came to stay with them and for some reason all the responsibility lies with him this time. Scully should have figured this was a bad idea.

“But… I don’t know how to drive.” Will, a tall, lanky boy with reddish brown hair, Scully’s eyes and nose, stares up at him, shyly. 

AU-- Revival William, who now lives with his parents, learns to drive from none other than Mulder.

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

[cecilysass]

I just saw your tags on the fanfiction asks about your favourite tropes and took it as an invitation to send you one as well. 😉

So, I'd love to hear your thoughts on 13, 14, and 16 from the fanfiction asks. No pressure, of course. Only if you want to.

All of these asks are from the angst section, which is fitting because it is probably my favorite genre.

13. Has a fic ever made you cry? Okay here's the thing: fics make me cry constantly. I will say a fic I remember especially making me cry is Song of Innocence by Christy. Emotionally destroyed, even though it ends happily. I also remember crying a lot with The Fox Mulder Phonetic Alphabet by storeybycorey. That last chapter: get out of here. I probably cried most recently with one of @oohnotvery's fics.

14. What tropes/elements/scenarios get you the worst? I like an emotional revelation of any kind---probably best of all elements in fanfic. And I'm such a basic girl with jealousy, okay? I just like it as a catalyst so much. (Although I'm not as much a big "revenge on Diana" girl; that doesn't push any buttons for me.) I like jealousy to hurt quite a bit. Like Pilgrims Creeping Towards the Dawn, Scully-hears-Diana-in-the-background-of-a-phone-call-when-she's-calling-because-he's-late-for-a-date pain. Yesssss. But I do like there to be a MSR catharsis at the end. I also like misunderstanding. I like separation for several years and difficult reunion fics, too. I wish there were so many more marriage of convenience fics because I would ALWAYS read those. I don't like "happy ever after" suburban domestic fics, but I will certainly do fics having to do with kids if they're complex, which the show sort of lends itself to.

16. How do you feel about character death in fics? Well, first, without tags, I haaaate it. Should always be tagged. If it's tagged, I am not entirely closed minded about it. Some fics, where it is used in unexpected ways, I love. (See: And if I make my bed in Sheol by three guesses.) I'm definitely leery of major character death, though, since it's not something I want to experience with the characters. I'll never say never though.

[mollybecameanengineer]

The Joy of Cooking

MSR | Season 10 | 949 Words | tagging: @today-in-fic

Scully had first noticed it a month after they started working together again. 

Rather than a hastily put together sandwich, leftover Chinese, or something greasy he’d just picked up, Mulder had real food nestled in a glass storage container for lunch. It looked like chicken with mushrooms, green beans, and a yellow purée. She wondered where he’d gotten it. 

Over the following weeks, similar dishes appeared. Steak with veggies and chimichurri. A white fish over rice with Chinese broccoli. Chicken and delicata squash over greens. 

The man she’d spent most of her adult life with wasn’t a great cook, though he had managed to put dinner on the table for most of the years she’d lived with him. But it was never this imaginative. Or healthy. Or varied. They’d eaten a rotation of the same dozen or so dishes for years. 

If she didn’t know better, Scully would have thought Mulder had someone at home making him dinner every night. At least, she was pretty sure she didn’t know better. 

“Mulder,” she began, on a day when she was feeling brave. “Have you, you know, dated at all since we…” she waved her hands around rather than finish the thought.

Mulder laughed out loud. “I haven’t been on a date since the early ‘90s. Or maybe late ‘80s. Unless we went on dates. Did we go on dates?”

She shrugged. “That night in Hollywood was pretty date-like.”

He smiled at the memory. She had to admit it was a pretty good one. Other than having to sit through that movie. “Ah, yes. Well then, last date was around the turn of the millennium. How about you?”

She kicked herself. Of course he’d return the question. She’d tried hard, when they’d first broken up, to get over him. She’d made an online dating profile and went on around a half a dozen first dates. They all sucked. After having a disappointing one night stand with a man she'd picked up in a bar, she’d come to the conclusion that she was still in love with Mulder and no amount of fucking strangers was going to change that. She deleted her profile and started seeing a therapist. “A few dates. Nothing serious.”

“Ah.” Mulder pushed his chicken, mashed potatoes (or maybe mashed cauliflower!?), and Brussels sprouts around the container. “It’s a shame I didn’t take you on more dates. Do you want to come over for dinner? You know, as a makeup for the hundreds of dates I didn't take you on?”

She froze. They’d been working together, successfully, for several months now. Growing close as friends again. But she’d been careful to draw a line in the sand with respect to their previous romantic entanglement. 

He must have sensed her discomfort. “Just as friends, Scully. Don’t overthink it. I have a salmon thing at home I think you’d like.”

Well, if it would get to the bottom of this food mystery. She agreed. 

When she arrived at their (his!) house, it was already filled with the smells of dinner. “Perfect timing!” Mulder said from the kitchen. “It will be ready in about 10 minutes.”

“Can I help?” she asked, setting down her bag and hanging her coat. 

“Nope. It’s pretty easy. But you can break open the wine.” He nodded toward the already set table, where a wine bottle was sitting.

She went into the kitchen to get the corkscrew. “What are we having?”

“Uhhh,” he said, leaning to read something on a piece of paper while also tending to a pan. “Salmon with sun dried tomato sauce over couscous.”

“Couscous! Mulder!”

He looked at her. “What? You like couscous.”

“I know I like couscous. What I don’t know is where you learned to make any of this!”

“Oh.” He chuckled as he handed her the paper. “I didn’t. I signed up for one of those meal delivery services. My, uh,” he cleared his throat and returned his attention to the stove, “my psychiatrist thought that a more balanced diet might help with, you know.” He stirred the couscous more vigorously than necessary. “And as you know, I have a limited repartee, so she suggested this as an easy alternative.”

Scully ran her eyes over the paper he’d handed her. It had clear instructions and little pictures showing how everything was supposed to look. Including the plating. 

“Do you think it’s helped?” Once the words were out of her mouth, she realized they were too intrusive for their current relationship. “Sorry, you don’t—”

He cut her off. “No, I want to share with you.” A timer went off and he started plating the couscous and salmon, just as shown in the little picture. “I mean, the meds really helped, once we got them right. And talking about… everything.” He carried their plates over to the table while she opened the wine and poured. They sat, again in the places they’d always been.  

He continued, once they were settled, “But getting back to exercising and this whole new diet thing have been good, too. If nothing else, my pants fit better and my cholesterol is down.”

“I’m glad.” She took a bite of the dinner, and was surprised by how good it was. While she’d known these services existed, she’d not understood why anyone would pay for them. But it did seem perfect for Mulder. “This is really good,” she said, taking another bite. 

“I’ll let the good people at Eaters know.”

She smiled and raised her wine glass to her lips, but paused before taking a drink. “A toast.” She raised her glass. He put down his fork and did the same. “To health.”

He clinked her glass. “To life.”

[rationalcashew]

Saw your tags-- very curious where we disagree!

This episode is such a mixed bag, discordant even with its own message (separate from the broader canon.)

Scully is a person who thinks she can "cure herself"; and doesn't want others to be "burdened with" or "pity" her. Her needs are often placed second in her relationships, professionally and personally (All Things explored that as far back as Daniel Waterstone), but she can't be perfect forever. Thus, rebellion with the end of wanting to get caught-- look at me smoking cigarettes, look at me going on a date (The Jersey Devil, Never Again, Bad Blood, Milagro, etc.), look at me taking a leap (Beyond the Sea, Clyde Bruckman's Final Repose, Trevor, etc.) Mulder, meanwhile, isn't clued into his own self-sacrifice-- or that he has sacrificed normalcy for this strange existence-- as typified by his "I have a life"/"this is a normal life." He struggles with self-denial: in Home, Mulder admits he'd live this life if (the if being Samantha and his quest for the truth), in Amor Fati he had a dream family only if he was forced to live in the suburbs for Scully's safety's sake, etc. He takes forever to act on his love towards Scully (heartbreakingly staring at her in Max and grasping her hand in Redux II; but withdrawing in Detour and not reiterating his confession after the high evaporated in Triangle.)

CSM projects his own ideals onto Mulder and thinks Scully's love can be drawn to himself by wooing her with his power and, he assumes, more open heart. Intent on breaking down her self-denial where there is none, he is surprised she so easily grabs the disc and leaves him in the dust; and what he took for altruistic self-sacrifice from Mulder was really morbid self-punishment.

To iron all that out AND make sense of En Ami? WBD had an interesting idea for the episode, I think; but too many hands in the pie changed it from roadtrip pop psychology to CC's bait-the-fans-with-the-miraculous-S8-conception angle (here and here.) I haven't taken the time to sit down and methodically break the episode apart; but there are probably a hundred and one ways that its internal structure doesn't hold up to scrutiny.

Now after that long-winded ask, XDD, where do you think I was off? Always curious to hear feedback (if it's not too much trouble~.)

It’s less about the episode itself where I disagree. Regarding the MSR part: what we have is a neurotypical (Scully) living in Mulder’s neurodivergent (I will die on the hill that he has undiagnosed—or, if he was diagnosed, completely neglected—ADHD) world. She struggles to adapt (this rather than the not wanting the life of mess that you mentioned). One big area of the original post where I disagree is your stance (although, to be fair, I do agree to an extent) is Scully’s being drawn to men with “power.” I think the word used in the episode was incorrect but I think the principle behind what he was saying is valid. Scully seems to be attracted to men who are unavailable (on any level: physically, emotionally, etc.) and/or in authority (which, I have always thought is a better word than “power” in that scene). The ones we know about are: Daniel, Jack, and to an extent, Mulder. One could even argue Jerse (emotionally unavailable) but that’s a whole different discussion 😂

I definitely agree with you about all the hints Scully had dropped for Mulder (the wine and cheese in the motel room wasn’t exactly subtle LOL). I’ve argued those points for years. However, I disagree about Mulder’s aversion—for lack of a better word—to bring “more.” I think that for the longest time, he’s completely oblivious. This is something that is INCREDIBLY common in people with ADHD. The flirting and even the way he goes about his job would produce the dopamine that his brain needs. It’s. A dopamine-reward based existence. Even his disorganization is pretty typical of ADHD as he has an “organized clutter.”

At first, we know Mulder is suspicious of Scully. He’s clear about that in the pilot. However, after she actually listened to him in a way that he isn’t used to (at that point), I think that changed. I think he was still a little suspicious for awhile but I think that, for him, was a, “wait, someone actually cares?” moment as well. She didn’t treat him like the crazy person that he appears to be accustomed to being treated as.

The earlier flirtations were definitely a dopamine thing for him and I’d even argue that, to an extent, it was even after that (again, this is incredibly common in people with ADHD). I think he wrestled with his feelings for her differently than she wrestled with hers for him. I think for him, it was more of a “am I reading this right?” thing (again, more often than not, for those of us with ADHD, we can see it a mile away with other people; but when it’s us, you have to spell it out for us). With Scully, I think she didn’t know where he stood—I think she felt like she made herself pretty clear but he is oblivious. However, throughout the series (especially post-her abduction and return), he is completely devoted to her.

I’ve always had mixed feelings about the episode itself because it was one of those where I could sort of see what they were going for but I don’t think they thought it all the way, through. I definitely agree with you about too many hands in the pie with this one.

Sorry, I’ll do other, more specific comments about the original post in comments on this one. I have to refer back to it and it erases my whole response when I try to do that on my phone. 🤦🏼‍♀️

[bellelikesmcyt]

[meant to be sent anonymously]

I wanna talk about the 27 club

So while it is the year at which many famous people physically die (for some reason) but it could also mean death in mental sense (like getting character development or sth)

Astrological reasons (+ stuff to know before reading stuff from the link that'll be below cuz some stuff isn't explained in it)

Natal chart is the chart you were born with

If a planet returns (natal return) it means the transit of the planet is in the same sign when the person was born with

To my knowledge:

North Node means soul purpose

Moon - emotions & subconscious + relationship with mom apparently

Saturn - ambition, career, limitations & discipline (+ maybe relationship with dad; it's either sun or Saturn according to various sources)

The link:

https://www.tumblr.com/kakiastro/751766049785020416/the-astrology-of-the-age-27?source=share

Some albums that were released when the singer was 27 (the first ppl that came to my mind):

Taylor Swift “Reputation” (I know it differs from her previous albums, idk how much cuz I don't listen to her stuff but the fact that's the only Taylor Swift album I own probably means something)

Melanie Martinez “Portals” (change from (as I call it) dark childhood+schoolcore to "more accurate folklore-wise I guess" fairycore with themes of death & rebirth (both in literal & mental sense))

Wilbur Soot "Mammalian Signing Reflex" (only if MSR was released after Wilbur's 27th birthday cuz iirc he said he tells ppl random date of his birthday so September 14th could be actually fake but he confirmed he was born in 1996)

MSR is the 27 club album

(that was the only thing I wanted to share)

(I'll gladly read/listen to anyone who decides to analyse the album from that perspective)

(Also Belle, if you wanna tell me how "Reputation" differs from her previous (& later) albums, you can, I'll be glad)

WAIT I FUCKING LOVE THIS

and rep isn’t super different from most of her other albums, but it was written at the start of her long-term relationship that was recently ended. it’s considered her only true “love” album, and my favorite of all her albums :)

[deathsbestgirl]

the jersey devil has always been my favorite. it’s the first episode i really remember (i was TWO when this show started) and sometimes i forget how full it is of little msr moments.

scully walks in on mulder looking at a magazine and teases him. “anti gravity is right” her little smirk gets me every time.

she tells him about a case she knows he’ll be interested in and immediately he digs his claws in. pulls out another x file from whatever year and tells her to take a look. instead, she wants to hear it from him and it’s oddly adorable.

she didn’t hesitate to follow him or drive with him to new jersey. *and then* he wants to make a weekend of it. do a couple touristy things with her and investigate the case because that’s what they do and he needs the excuse to spend time with her. scully gets all pouty when he tosses her the keys and has a three hour drive alone to look forward to because she has to go back home.

and THEN at her godson’s birthday party, she has a little chat with her friend about kids & having a life and the woman immediately asks about scully’s partner (LMAO) scully deflects, cuz she already knows mulder pretty well and thinks he has no room in his life for anything but the x files & the search for his sister.

like these two idiots are already falling but so staunchly pushing it aside and focusing on ~the work~ because they both truly care about it. their dedication to it is real & honest. but it’s so cute how they use it as an excuse from the beginning.

and god it irritates me when the writers & whoever act like mulder & scully don’t really talk. because they do, but a lot of it is the subtext of what they’re saying aloud. they learn quickly how the other’s mind works, and maybe it’s just me, but that means a lot. that takes knowing someone intimately and they do that by talking. and sure, maybe they don’t get too ~personal~ but they don’t even current personal lives to share about. they talk about their history when it comes up, or if a case is somehow related. they don’t really pour their hearts out, but that isn’t them.

their intimacy & knowledge of each other is rooted in their work conversations and all that reveals. which is so so much. it’s why we, as the audience, are so enthralled with them & the show.

ANYWAY. then when mulder is arrested, who is called except scully. and how quickly she goes running back to jersey for him. only to tease him, and for him to demand she take him out for food.

and *of course* he wants her to stay. mentions *he* has a hotel room. the audacity he has is adorable. and so she almost delights in telling him she has a date, even though she ends up visibly nervous & uncomfortable. MORE TEASING. the way she laughs at him when he says he has a life. because she knows exactly what his life is. i live for the way scully teases mulder. it’s affectionate & kindhearted.

after the conversation with her friend, she thinks she wants a life outside work, outside mulder & the x files. but she can’t talk to this man about her work & expect him to understand it or not judge her, and she is bored out of her mind. yes, she loves kids & wants a family. but listening to this man talk about his life — she can’t even come up with any responses. so obviously when mulder pages her, she can’t take the out fast enough. like?? ditching a date to go jersey devil hunting with mulder. priceless.

omg the way his phone rings and he just picks up and says “scully” because of course she would call that quickly. and he knew she would because he sees that same fire in her that he has.

all the little quips she makes during cases, i feel like this episode has some great ones. “talk about primitive behavior” talking about her godson’s party. “i can see why they would take you for a vagrant.” calling it the drunk tank when she takes his call. scully’s sense of humor is on point and i wish we got more of it. and i think it’s the way that if someone else said a lot of these things (especially to mulder) they could easily be construed has mean hearted or cruel, but that’s just not something she has in her and especially not for mulder.

the jersey devil on top of mulder — this scene is something else. the tension is so good. the acting — impeccable. this woman has no lines but there’s so much emotion when she’s on screen. and mulder talking about her? “she was beautiful” he sounds deranged and scully goes into doctor mode (the Touching, “well she just about ripped your lungs out”) then agent mode so they can have jurisdiction. ever the professional but with such personal motivations. again when it isn’t ~personal to her. i ADORE scully. there’s a reason she’s the first character i ever fell in love with. (thank you gillian anderson! you had two year old me hooked before i knew anything or could even intellectually understand this show.)

“tell him he’s got a real life neanderthal on the loose”

mulder is injured and bloody and running through the woods to protect this woman. she can’t even be taken down by the dart they shoot at her. incredible. and scully & her former professor may be more intellectually invested in this case, but their goals (as well as the park ranger’s) are all aligned and it’s just beautiful?? these are four gentle souls in a modern world surrounded by cruel people.

omg i almost forgot about when her date calls the office and mulder answers. he doesn’t say anything in the moment, but when she comes out to meet him, he does. and when she follows him, he teases her?? “don’t you have a life scully?” keep it up mulder and i’ll hurt you like that beast woman” “eight million years out of africa” “and look who’s holding the door” one of my all time favorite moments. and idk why but i love that she cuts in front of him and opens the door to let him go first.

it’s so interesting to me how often scully bites her tongue. she isn’t afraid to tear down men or take them down. but when there’s procedure to be followed, she stays quiet. it’s almost painful.

this episode is why i thought they were married. i didn’t care that scully was on a date, didn’t even think twice about it — they were MARRIED.

it’s so funny to me that scully laments having no life so early in the show, when presumably before this, she should have had the time if she was teaching. and i know they cut ethan out, but even if you take into account she had a relationship right before / at the beginning, she jumped into the x files head first and let it envelop her life so quickly.