#i feel bad for cropping jimmy out but he was pulling some insane faces and it was really distracting lmfao

[samijey]

Survivor Series: Wargames post-show (30/11/2024)

[gaycrouton]

Gentleman

Words of Love 7/27 [Our favorite pair has to deal with a bout of bad luck while on a road trip.]

Gentleman: (noun) a chivalrous, courteous, or honorable man.

From her mere five years assigned to the X-Files, Scully had traveled thousands of miles, experienced most of the fifty states, and became an expert at navigating highways with just a map and compass in hand. Mulder and her had a routine that had been going moderately well. When he found a case he wanted to investigate, he would get the airplane tickets, rental car, and motel while she tied up loose ends at the office and reported back to Skinner. It was a routine that had never led them astray. Until now, that is.

Everything had been going normal; Mulder found a case in Missouri, they had flown to the St. Louis international airport, and their rental car was there waiting so they could make the two hour drive to Grafton. Retrospectively, she should have known this would end badly.

“Mulder, what is that?"

“It’s a vehicle of opportunity, Scully!” She cocked an eyebrow waiting for him to reveal this was an elaborate joke. Mulder, apparently in all seriousness, was currently leaning against a beaten up station wagon that looked like it hadn’t been used since the 70’s. Her presumption had been correct when she noticed the “Vote Jimmy Carter” bumper sticker clinging to the back of the car.

“Did you request this car?” She didn’t know if he was motivated by some unknown nostalgia or if this was an accident, but she was truly at a loss for how this museum on wheels made its way into his hands.

“Well,” he started guiltily, leaning off the car, “actually, I had forgotten to call ahead of time and this was all they had left.”

“Do you think it will make the drive?” She asked hesitantly. She didn’t want to dampen his excitement, but realistically this car was near twenty years old.

“I guess we’ll have to find out,” he replied, making his way to her side of the car to open her door for her, bowing an arm in a show of gallantry, “your chariot awaits.” Scully chuckled and made her way into the passenger's seat. She saw him glance to make sure all her arms and legs were inside the vehicle before he shut it.

She had a moment to fully process the interior as Mulder made his way to the driver’s seat. It looked as old on the inside as it did on the outside. While Mulder sat down she laughed, “The floor mats are made of shag carpet, Mulder,” gesturing to the bottom of the car.

He took a glance down to check and a grin broke out on his face. Meeting her incredulous gaze, he smacked the red dice hanging from the mirror, “Groovy.”

They had made it about thirty minutes before the air conditioning let out its death rattles. In their usual luck, Missouri was experiencing a heat wave in the middle of August. Their only reprieve was the fact the afternoon was weaning.

Scully was uncomfortable, but when she glanced at Mulder after the AC stopped, she could tell he was feeling guilty and didn’t want to make him feel worse by complaining. Most of her current irritation was at herself. She had checked the weather before leaving and she knew it was going to be hot. With a desire to remain professional, she had decided to wear her normal attire, minus the suit jackets, thinking that would make a difference. Wrong.

Now she was sitting in the Missouri heat in a long sleeve white blouse, tucked into a knee-length skirt with pantyhose on underneath, and she was boiling. Trying to subtly alleviate her discomfort, she looked around for something she could tie her hair up with. She usually didn’t carry hair ties on her because her hair was so short that it was usually a redundant effort. Right now she would do anything to keep her hair from sticking to the back of her neck. Her eyes ended up fixating on the only thing that could work, a rubber band that was resting on Mulder’s slim wrist. “Mulder can I have the rubber band around your wrist if it’s not important.”

He glanced at her curiously, but complied nonetheless. He took the rubber band clad hand off the wheel and pointed it in her direction, making her remove it for him. Trying to avoid snagging any of his hair near the band, she placed her fingers on either side of his wrist and slipped them under the band, rubbing her fingertips along the side of his wrist inadvertently. She saw him take his eyes off the road to glance at her ministrations, fixated at her touch. She stretched the band taut and removed it, muttering a shy “Thanks.”

“What’dya need it for?” He asked returning his hand to the wheel and his eyes to the road.

“I just wanted to tie my hair back, and I don’t have a hair tie.” She scooted forward in her seat so that she could move her hands up without hitting her elbows on the seat or the window. Putting the band on her own wrist for the time being, she gently combed her fingers through her slightly damp hair, removing all the tangles. Once she was satisfied she started the age old dance of hair braiding, parting her front into three strands, gradually picking up more hair into each as she made her way down her scalp to the base of her neck. By the time she was finishing, she was bending over slightly in her seat so she could have better access, the top of her head nearly touching the console.

She started to grab the band off her wrist when she felt Mulder graze the nape of her neck with his fingertips. “You missed some,” he said softly. She felt him use one finger to loop some stray hairs into a tendril and gently met her fingers with his own to put the hairs in place. After her initial surprise, she used her thumb to collect the hair being offered and then wrapped them all up with the band, twisting it five times before it would hold on its own. She self consciously ran her hand from her hairline to the two inch-long ponytail sticking outward, making sure there wasn’t any hair sticking out of place. She could feel Mulder’s eyes on her, and her suspicions were confirmed when he said, “It looks nice.”

Sitting back up, she met his gaze and mumbled an appreciative, “Thanks.”

In this moment, she was temporarily happy for the heat. She knew she was irrationally blushing from Mulder’s unrelenting attention, but she could blame any flush on the temperature. However, much to her embarrassment, he still felt the need to ask.

“Scully, are you okay? Your cheeks are flushed,” she looked over at him and saw there was a slight smirk on his face. Asshole.

“In case you forgot, we’re in the middle of a summer heatwave with no air conditioning.” She tried to sound curt to hide her embarrassment, but she knew her voice hadn’t hidden anything.

“Want to roll down the windows? It may get windy, but it might help a little?” He offered. She didn’t give him an answer, she just grasped the window mechanism and rotated it until the window was down as Mulder did the same on his side.

Since the were going seventy on the highway, it was a little aggressive. She felt thin strands of hair escape from her braid and fly around her head, as if caught in a tornado. The strands of her hair that weren’t flying around ended up sticking to her red lip gloss, she assumed she was making quite an image. Taking a glance to her left, she saw Mulder leaning back in his seat with an arm hung over the steering wheel, the other resting on his lap. His shirt sleeves had been rolled up and were bunched up around his elbow, revealing his muscular forearms. Since his hair was so short, the wind was just brushing it back, making it look sleek. Scully couldn’t help but think that he looked like a model in an Armani ad, and she yet again was thankful she could blame her flushed face on the heat.

They were able to make it another hour before the next problem.

“Uh, Scully do you see that?” She had been trying to figure out what crop was growing next to them when he pulled her out of her reverie. When she turned to ask him what he meant, she immediately saw it. Blackish smoke was tufting from under the hood of the car. She gave a concerned affirmation and he pulled the car off onto the shoulder.

They got out of the car together and she watched as he went into full Mulder-mechanic mode. Rolling up his sleeves as high as they could go, he lifted the hood, leaned over the engine, and started assessing the situation. Scully thought she should help, but she was having fun assessing Mulder. She had seen him wield a gun, she had seen him chase down bad guys, but for some reason, seeing him focused this intently, was insanely hot to her.

She didn’t realize she was gawking until she heard him amusedly call out, “Earth to Scully?” Her eyes adjusted quickly, and she was embarrassed to see he was looking at her with a shit-eating grin. “You okay?”

She cleared her throat before offering a weak, “It’s hot.” You’re hot.

He chuckled lightly, “Wow, I never knew you were so affected by heat.” So affected by me. She knew he was on the same page and just offered him a lighthearted glare.

“So what’s the prognosis?” She brought their attention back to the car and away from their loaded innuendo.

“I don’t feel safe driving in it right now. I was never really taught much about cars, they weren’t in my area of interest, so I’m not sure what’s wrong,” he said sheepishly, running a hand up and down the base of his neck, his nervous tick.

“Let me guess, in terms of transportation vehicles, UFO’s were more in your area of interest.”  she teased.

He grasped his heart in mock-admiration, “My, Scully, you know me so well,” earning a chuckle from her.

“So what are we going to do?” She asked, taking in the sun starting to set behind him.

He took his hand off his chest, getting serious. “We passed by a rest stop just about a mile or two back. I was going to walk there and ask them about what to do. You can wait here if you want, I don’t want to make you walk a mile in this heat. Do you have your gun on you or is it in the trunk?” She could tell by his rambling that he was thoroughly uncomfortable with the idea of leaving her in a broken down car on the side of the highway. He didn’t want to insult her though, but was still imagining every worst case scenario in his mind.

She tried to suppress an amused smirk from showing, “It’s fine. Truck drivers love picking up pretty young things on the side of the road. With legs like that, I’d feel much safer walking with you so no one tries to take you.”

He let out the breath he had been holding with a laugh. Obviously relieved that she knew what he had been worried about and wasn’t mad at him. They made their way down the highway talking about different things that came to mind.

When they were about a quarter mile from the rest stop, out of absolutely nowhere, it started to pour. Letting out a disbelieving laugh, they looked up at the sky.

“Luck is really in our favor today,” she sarcastically mused out loud. When she turned to look at him, she noticed, for once it was him who was blushing.

“Uh-Scully,” he started, all the sudden acting like a shy school boy.

“What?” She pressed, worried he had realized something bad. He glanced back to her and she noticed his eyes remained glued to her shirt. Lifting one hand up, he weakly gestured for her to look.

Glancing down, she cursed every god in the book. Today was filled with bad luck and poor decisions. She hadn’t realized how many bad decisions she had made until this very moment. For one, she decided to wear a white top today because the sun isn’t as attracted to light colors. Two, she didn’t wear her usual camisole or tank top underneath because she thought it would be too hot. Third, she didn’t bring an umbrella even though she checked the fucking weather forecast before they left. And Fourth, but most importantly, she decided today was the day she was going to try out her new, nude, sheer bra. The rain left her white shirt absolutely see through and clinging to her skin, but her bra, aided by the rain, left absolutely nothing to the imagination.

Wide-eyed, she looked back at him and noticed he was staring around, at the sky, at the ground, anything to look like he hadn’t just gotten a total eyeful. She crossed her arms over her chest and noticed, with a slight cheer, that he was also crossing his hands in front of himself to hide something. A very impressive something. When he saw her hands move, he decided it was safe to look back.

“Uh-” She muttered awkwardly, not really knowing what to say.

“Do you want my shirt?” The words tumbled quickly out of his mouth.

“What?”

“Do you want to wear my shirt? It’s black and I’m wearing something underneath. We’re almost to the gas station, and um, I don’t want anyone in there-I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable,” he stuttered his offer, trying to lessen her embarrassment.

And they say chivalry is dead. Scully smiled at Mulder, literally offering the shirt off his back to help her protect her modesty. Usually shows of manliness irritated her pride. But every time he did it, she felt her heart flutter. When he opens doors for her, helps her, tries to hide his boners for her, it was always out of respect for her and she adored him. Fox Mulder, pure-hearted gentleman.

“Yes please. Not everyone deserves to see me half naked.” But you do. She saw him pick up her hidden meaning, and she was rewarded with a full toothed smile.

He quickly unbuttoned his shirt and draped it over her shoulders, helping her ease her arms through the holes, while trying not to stare at her re-exposed chest. Even though the shirt was wet, she was encased in Mulder’s scent. She buttoned the shirt up and was amused at how much it engulfed her small frame. She looked up to see that Mulder was equally as amused with this development, but her mind was preoccupied with something else. Within seconds, the roles were reversed, and Scully was staring at a rain-drenched Mulder in a clinging white tank top. She could see every muscle though his shirt, and it’s all she could stare at for the rest of the walk.