#i love it how scully just came around to be flirty and giggle like a school girl around mulder in this episode

[fortycumber]

the sounds of muffled screaming is me fangirling into my pillow with a big sheepish grin on my face.

[ingravinoveritas]

This is a clip from one of the interviews on the Good Omens season 1 press tour, and we don’t talk about it enough, so here I am sharing it again.

I’ve written previously on my blog about how watching the countless interviews of Michael and David promoting Good Omens was like watching them falling in love. But I don’t think it was until near the end of the press tour (which is when this took place, around July of 2019) that either of them started to realize how special this period in time was, and just how much it meant to them personally.

For all the flirty looks and banter of the other, earlier interviews, there’s a sweet sense of wistfulness to this one. That Michael and David got so used to seeing each other on and off for months on end that they didn’t think of what it would be like when it was over, or how much they would miss it. The soft giggles, the shy glances here as they talk about finding an excuse to see each other again is so, so lovely. It's as if they're both realizing how much they really like and need each other. Michael is already tits over heels in love, because he can't help it. But with David, it's a slower yet equally intense realization that gradually dawns on him. 

(Also, the fact that David actually said the words “We can meet in a hotel room”--not a conference room, or a press room, or literally any other room that doesn’t contain a freaking bed--was A Choice...)

None of us could know what the world would be like a little over six months later, or the ways in which the landscape of our lives would dramatically shift. I have wondered if Michael and David had the chance to see each other before lockdown hit, but what is truly comforting is that what started between them on the press tour grew stronger and deeper than either of them ever imagined.

What Michael and David said in this clip came to fruition: They found a way to meet again for no reason at all, other than needing and wanting to be close to each other...

“You know, one day you look at the person and you see something more than you did the night before. Like a switch has been flicked somewhere. And the person who was just a friend is suddenly the only person you can ever imagine yourself with.”

- Dana Scully, The X-Files

[danadeservesadrink]

Wine and Whiskey Chapter 2

Read on AO3 here 

Chapter 2: Scully’s POV

We’re just going to pretend that I didn’t wait an entire year to post the second chapter for this fic. Oops?

Scully had never been the deviant one. She made her bed with military precision, she only dated nice and respectable boys, she was a straight A student all on her own good merit. Her mother insisted that she was the golden child, the one you brag about to family friends at bridge parties. Truthfully, Scully was just as rebellious as her siblings. She just happened to be better at getting away with it. She was convinced her mother simply ignored her misdoings as she already had her hands full with Melissa, and as long as she kept her grades up she could do whatever she wanted in her own bedroom. If that wasn’t true then her mother must have been blind not to notice the extra tee shirts that kept popping up in the wash, or the times she arrived home late from the library with tousled hair smelling like new car leather and cigarettes.

Either way, Scully adopted the persona of the reliable daughter. The responsible one. The golden child. So when her brother had the audacity to call her on a Friday evening and scream her ear off about responsibility and safety and all his other god damn concerns about her choices in career, she was simply pissed.

Pissed that the golden child could become the fallen angle overnight for making her own decisions for once.

She ignored his little comments about her partner on the phone call, choosing to keep the conversation focused on her, but his voice rang in the back of her mind all the same.

He’s crazy, Dana. He has you going out on these cases putting yourself in danger for some insane crusade that already took one of my sisters. I’m not letting it take another one.

Bill would never understand. He could never comprehend how responsible little Dana could choose to follow one man to the ends of the Earth on her own free will.

But she would.

She was feeling deviant. It was dangerous. Dangerous enough to make her toss on a knit sweater top over her bare chest, foregoing the bra as it poked her bandages. Or at least, that's what she told herself. Dangerous enough to grab the bottle of white she was keeping in her fridge and her car keys.

She knew he would be home, and she was even more certain he would let her in. What she didn’t expect was him flirting back at her. It went against every dynamic they had. Until now, one of them would flirt and the other would silently admonish them, playing coy and superior until the joking ceased and work began, and they could fall back on the safe partnership that they'd created.

But she was given three days leave due to the stitches in her side, and he couldn’t come up with a conspiracy more interesting than why she had shown up on his doorstep at 9:04 on a Friday night. There was no safety net to fall back on. It was just them, in his apartment, splitting a bottle of wine.

She noticed him watching her. How could she not, with his gaze practically burning marks in her skin? It made her take bigger sips.

His eyes were hot on hers, trailing fire into her cheek, her lips, her neck. She watched him too, watched as he turned the bottle ever so slightly so the edge of her imaginary mouth barely overlapped his on the rim where he drank from. She found it oddly respectful.

Her mother called just to tell her off. Of course she apologized for Bill's words, but “why did you have to call him a bastard , Dana?”

Mulder laughed at her answer and she couldn’t help but smile at him. He teased her with alcohol and disappointing her mother and she had never been one to deny a challenge. It was so easy just to joke with him. She saw his eyes widen as she drank with her mother listening, and even though she was well passed the legal age, she felt a rush of deviance.

Her mother told her to really think about what he meant to her. Ask herself if he was really worth risking her life for. If it was, she needed to tell him.

She was scared by how quickly she knew the answer.

She knew he knew that “hi” wasn’t what her mother wanted her to tell him, and she silently thanked him when he didn’t press the issue.

If she was going to do this she needed more alcohol. She already felt it dulling her senses, making her lips tingle and her filter weaken. She knew she was tipsy when she actually giggled in front of him. She was almost embarrassed.

Her mouth went dry as she felt him staring, and the sudden memory of whiskey on a high shelf in his kitchen flashed through her brain. He had offered it to her before, usually with a waggle of his eyebrows and a look not unlike the one he was giving her now, after any particularly troubling case or really any time they had to do a lot of paperwork. Of course she had always denied, but then again she had always been wearing all of her undergarments at the time.

Alcohol was fuzzing her brain and her balance but the physical effort of maintaining her responsible appearance was making her desperate for any excuse to let go.

With the last remaining brain cells not tinged by white wine, she made her choice.

She heard him call after her as she sauntered into the kitchen with the energy of a free woman but she didn’t quite care. She had the obstinance of a child as she stood on her tiptoes to try to reach the bottle. She was about 5 seconds from climbing on top of the counter when she felt him behind her, and she leaned back into his presence.

She giggled as he fumbled and made a swipe at the whiskey, which was easily blocked by him. She liked how strong he looked, framing her tiny body against the counter with his big arms.

“And why should I give you some of my emergency whiskey” and the look he gave her made her melt. He was playing along now, both of them knowing how the night would end, but Scully didn’t mind speeding the process along.

“Because I’ve had a terrible day, and now I’m out of wine”, and she pushed her lip out further to emphasize the point. He stared at her, eyes twinkling.

“What's the magic word?”

Her brain tried to think of flirty comeback, maybe even just a smart one, but moscato wasn’t doing her any favors so she opted for tilting her head back and sticking out her tongue. She saw his pupils dilate with a hunger before she shut her eyes tight, waiting.

The whiskey hit her tongue with a burn and she tried her very hardest to remain cool and collected as the fire hit the back of her throat. She swallowed and coughed before smiling up at him, her look probably reflecting the one she was receiving from him. Hot. Thirsty. Desperate .

“Your turn.”

She pulls him down to his knees, and he lets her. She’s not kidding herself, she barely matched in strength with him on a good day when she’s sober. He let her.

She poured into his mouth the best she could, more focused on his lips then she was on the actual task at hand. His mouth shut quickly and he sputtered, forcing her to rapidly pull up on the bottle.

The whiskey dripped over his lips and chin and she simply couldn’t resist. She pressed her tongue to his cheek, lapping up the extra droplets, feeling the scratch of his stubble against her soft taste buds. She felt him shake.

Her face stayed close to his, their breath intermingling, and she found herself intoxicated on more than just alcohol. Mulder, tonight, was her drug of choice. She allowed herself a fleeting thought about how her brother admonishing her choice in partner just made her want to run to him more, like when her father banned her from smoking so she shoved cigarettes in every purse, pocket, or wallet of hers she could find. It was, of course, a rebellion. But it was a rebellion she very much wanted to lead.

He was questioning her with his eyes and she felt obligated to answer him.

“It’s your emergency whiskey, I didn’t want to waste it.” And to accentuate the point, she trailed her tongue across his chin. It didn’t matter that the alcohol had already melded with his skin, leaving only a bitter and sticky substance for her to lick up. He gasped and the sound of her making him squirm made her laugh. It felt good to be in control. He whispered her name, but she silenced him with a finger, moving it over his lips to rest on his cheek.

She held his face in the palm of her hands and realized she was holding her world. This man, this frustrating, incorrigible, beautiful man was her everything. How could she have ever thought otherwise.

So she kissed him.

She kissed him and the dam broke, and years of tension and trust came pouring out in a clashing of lips, hot and heavy. He stood to his full height, wrapping his hands around her waist, a tantalizing mix of desperate and delicate. She could kiss him for years, losing herself in the taste of his lips, his tongue, as he opened his mouth to her in what she could only describe as worship. He was worshiping her and she loved every second of it.

His mouth leaves her lips and she almost whimpers until it finds the underside of her jaw, her neck, and she feels what is what like to be marked by him. A curse escapes her lips in a strangled moan and she feels him growl against her throat.

“Mine” he whispers into her neck, and she might as well be putty in his hands because she is his, his, all his. She feels herself growing wetter by the second, knowing she’ll have to wear turtlenecks for the next week but not really caring. Or maybe she’ll wear a nice scoop neck, just to let the world know that Fox Mulder had finally claimed his territory.

“Yours” she whispers back, and he stares into her eyes with so much need it makes her choke. His hands drag up her sides, lingering on the bandage and she sees him hesitate. Leave it to Mulder to feel guilty as she’s about to take her clothes off in his kitchen. She pushes his hands higher, leading him to the underside of her breasts, and his eyes widen before he dives back into her collar bone.

“Were you planning…” he starts, interrupting himself by sucking on her clavicle. “On telling me… that you weren’t wearing a bra?” His assault on her chest made her struggle to think of an answer, but if he was allowed to tease then so was she.

“I was more hoping that-” he tickled a particular spot on her neck with his tongue and another string of curses leapt from her lips, “you would find out for yourself”.

It was true, of course, though she hadn’t admitted that to herself until just now. But he seemed satisfied with the answer as he moaned and pushed the sweater over her head. She aided him by lifting her arms, not wanting to hurt herself any further in the process, and when she dropped her arms he was just staring at her. He was slack-jawed, eyes wide, looking at her like a little kid looks at the biggest prize in the claw machine, nose pressed to the glass, full of ambition. The silence rang defining off the empty walls of the kitchen and she could feel every neuron firing in her body at once. She swayed back and forth, the dizzying feeling of Mulder’s eyes on her distracting her from everything else.

“Well?” she asked, tentatively breaking the silence. If the world continued on without his lips on her for one more second she felt as if she might break.

Thank God he knew how to read her mind. He was back on her in an instant, mouth and hand moving in synchronicity over her whole body, pushing and pulling her in exactly the right way, so wonderful she threw her head back in ecstasy. He touched her then, suckling on her nipples and her body seized. Words tumbled out of her lips, curses, moans, his name, those were about the only sounds she could produce at the moment. She fights off the numb feeling of intoxication and forces her desires out into the open. She needs him to know, needs him to hear her.

“Mulder I want you.” He looks up at her to meet her gaze, breathless and hungry.

“Now.”

He always has had a flair for the dramatics, as well as a propensity for overachieving. He lifts her off the counter with her legs wrapped around his torso, with the ease that you pluck a petal off a flower, and carries her towards his room like you would see in a romance movie. She wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him deeply, throwing him off his balance, and he kisses her back while he stumbles in the direction of the nearest bed. He nearly trips, he'll blame the whisky later, sending the pair crashing into a wall instead. She lets out a grunt of pain, her side protesting the harsh contact, and he instantly returns her feet to the floor. He’s so reckless with himself, her Mulder, he’ll run headfirst into the lair of a madman in pursuit of the truth, but when most men would pass off a grunt as a sign to continue, he puts her down and starts checking on her.

She smirks as his eyebrow furrows in concern.

“Scully I’m so sorry…”

“Mulder it's fine”, and she's smiling now, placing her hands on his shoulders to steady him from his worrying. She feels the cold wall pressed against her bare back and remembers she is topless.

It is an absurd situation. The two of them in the hallway outside his bedroom, intoxicated, breathing heavy, her side in a bandage, all of it. Maybe it was just the fact that it took them so many years to find themselves like this.

She laughed, and he joined her, letting the sound fill the hallway and banish any awkwardness that was still stuck between them. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead. Her eyes fluttered shut as he pressed another one to her cheek, and then a final kiss to her lips that made them tingle.

“Why’d you come here tonight, Scully?” She opened her eyes to see him smiling down on her, trying to conceal all the thoughts that must be running through his head. She smoothed his hair as if that would soothe them.

“I knew you would be here”, she said simply. He laughed and brought her hand to his lips, kissing her fingers.

“So all the seduction was impromptu?”

She shook her head, suddenly shy again. Silence fell like a veil over them again.

“I just… I just like being with you.” She stared down at the ground after her answer, head hanging until a strong hand on her cheek turned it up again. He was beaming at her, and she couldn’t help but smile back at him.

“I like being with you too, Scully” he whispered, and he pressed his lips to hers once more. She felt her body release all tension, melting into his grip, falling fast. She knew he would catch her.

The kiss turned hungry as she opened her mouth into him, and he pulled her lower lip into his mouth, releasing it with a pop. How they could go from giggling in each other's arms to devouring each other so quickly was testament to their bond.  

“Mulder?”

“Mmhmm?”

She paused, and he pulled back from her. She took the moment to look at him, remember his face the way it was right now, fresh and breathless, lips raw from contact, even more luscious than they typically were. It was a face she certainly wanted to become well acquainted with.

“Take me to bed.”

[atths--twice]

Rm9.... was an episode I really liked. I know a lot of people didn’t like it because of the lack of dialogue, but I liked the fact that they don’t NEED to speak to be out and about. It was different, but it was good. Them out on a date was so adorable. Her laughing at his blobfish meal and taking a picture of it... God, I love flirty and fun Scully so much. She’s just so adorbs. 

Here we go...

Chapter Thirty Seven 

All a Buzz

After the catastrophe in Rm9.... Scully and Mulder take care of things at the house before heading to breakfast. Discussions are had, temporary decisions are made, and things begin to move forward. 

February 2018

The water was warm as Scully washed her hands in the diner bathroom. She looked in the mirror and smiled at her reflection. This night had been … well, to say insane was an understatement. A car ride from hell, a possessed room vacuum, her bedroom exploding, being chased by drones, and being shot at by printed 3-D bullets.

All because of a tip, or lack of one, she thought, shaking her head as she dried her hands and left the bathroom. Mulder was still sitting at the bar, looking at his phone when she returned. As she walked up, he turned to her with a smile, standing as he slipped his phone in his back pocket and drank down the last bit of his coffee.

“You ready?” he asked, and she nodded her head. Heading out of the diner, he held the door open for her as they walked to his car. She was tired, but oddly incredibly happy and unable to stop smiling, even after all that had happened.

Late last night, after they walked out of that warehouse, they trudged back to her place to inspect the damage the explosion caused. Not too surprisingly, no emergency services were present. The calls they tried to place before fleeing had not gone through, and the alarm system was operating with a mind of its own. None of her neighbors had appeared to be bothered enough to call it in either. More evidence that the world was slowly shrinking into its own worries and concerns.

Glass was everywhere, and they both sighed as they looked at it. Black scorch marks and areas of still smoldering smoke from the explosive ball of fire were on the carpet, walls, her bed, and dresser. There was even some damage in the bathroom, making the entire space unlivable. She was, however, thankful that the damage had at least been contained to that area versus the entire house.

Mulder looked at her, and she sighed again. Walking past the smoldering piece of metal that was once the floor vacuum, Scully walked into the kitchen and grabbed the fire extinguisher. She handed it to Mulder when she heard him behind her, and she began searching for the broom she could not find earlier.

When she finally found it on the back porch, she and Mulder worked to clean up the glass, putting it directly into one of her outdoor trash cans. The whole process took a lot longer than they had anticipated since glass had found its way into the small crevices and areas they would not normally have looked, but they eventually got it done. They even boxed the vacuum back up after they sprayed it with the fire extinguisher.

By the time they finished, the sun was coming up, making it easier for Scully to take pictures to document the damage for insurance purposes. She looked at Mulder as he stood outside, looking at the hole the shattered window left behind.

“So, what do we do about this?” he asked, opening his hands wide, gesturing to it. “Do you have any large pieces of plywood to cover this? Big pieces of plastic or anything like that?”

“Yeah, I have plywood in the garage,” she said, rolling her eyes, taking the last picture and putting her phone away.

“Well, this house is super fancy, who knows what you’ve got hidden away here,” he said stepping through the frame and back into the house. “Ooh, I’m not going to run into a Jabberwock, am I?” He grinned at her, and she rolled her eyes again.

“That’s what you might find going through the looking glass, Mulder, not a broken window pane frame,” she said, shaking her head.

“Points awarded for not insisting, incorrectly, that it’s called a Jabberwocky,” he said dryly.

“‘The Jabberwocky’ is a poem written by Lewis Carroll, Mulder, about the Jabberwock. ‘Beware the Jabberwock, my son. The jaws that bite, the claws that catch! Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun The frumious Bandersnatch! ’” She quoted and he stared at her in fascinated amazement.

“God, Scully,” he stated, shaking his head and stepping past her. “How do you make a children’s poem so fucking hot? Between your device you had on you earlier and this … how’s a guy supposed to not be aroused? Jesus Christ …”

She laughed as she watched him walk out of the room and out of sight. He obviously needed a minute, and she would give it to him. She heard him sighing loudly, causing her to giggle quietly. After a few minutes had passed he walked back into the bedroom and stared at her.

“So, what do we do about the window? Have you called someone?” he asked, and she nodded.

“He’ll be here by 7, so less than an hour from now,” she said as he sighed and nodded his head, looking around the room.

“When he gets  here, do you wanna go get something to eat?” he asked. “From a real restaurant with real chefs. No more of this automation bullshit. I’m starving.”

“Starving?” she teased him, and he shrugged.

“Unlike you, Scully, I wasn’t able to eat my dinner. All I’ve had since then is cold toaster pastries, and seeing as how you’ve offered no refreshments, I’m ready for some breakfast. Eggs and toast, some bacon. Mmm …” he moaned, closing his eyes.

“I have fruit in the fridge and there are some crackers in the kitchen cabinet next to the microwave. They have rosemary in them,” she offered, and he gave her a look of disgust. She rolled her eyes and smiled, shrugging her shoulders at him.

He grabbed two dining room chairs and brought them into the hallway to keep an eye on the place as they waited for the guy to arrive. She touched his shoulder as she went to the kitchen to cut up the strawberries she had in the fridge. She knew he would not refuse them if she offered them to him. Coming back a few minutes later, she handed him the bowl and sat down. Just as she suspected, he began to shovel them in his mouth.

She sat next to him and he offered her the bowl and she took one, eating it slowly. “Christ, Scully, come on …” he groaned, shaking his head. She laughed and took the next strawberry, eating it normally, his eyes cautiously turned away from her.

Twenty minutes later the guy showed up and Scully explained to him what happened. He whistled at the sight of the burnt room and shook his head, commenting that she was lucky to have gotten out unscathed. She nodded and thought how lucky she truly was, how close it was once again. They left for breakfast shortly after, another truck pulling up to help with the job at hand.

Now, finished with their meal prepared by real people, they were headed back to her place to check how things were progressing and to see what else needed doing. She still needed to call Alan and let him know what happened. Thinking about it made her sigh and hang her head. Mulder glanced over at her, and she sighed again.

“Not looking forward to explaining to Alan what happened,” she said, looking at him and he nodded.

“So, you’ll need to replace the carpet, fix the walls, replace items, check for any internal damage to that house,” he said, unlocking the doors so they could get in the car. They buckled their seat belts, and he put his hand on the back of her seat as he backed out of their parking spot. Putting both hands on the wheel, he headed toward her place. “So, you have all that to deal with, and you can’t possibly stay there of course. What’s your plan?”

She looked at him, smiling at what he was not saying. He shrugged, glancing at her before turning his eyes back to the road. “Once I know exactly what needs to be done at the house, I’ll make a decision,” she told him and he nodded.

“Well, just know that-”

“I know, Mulder,” she said covering his hand with her own. He grasped her hand and nodded again.

At the house, they found men pulling up carpet, the furniture placed outside in order to get the job done. Scully sighed as she began to go through the drawers of the dresser to see if anything was salvageable. Mulder asked where her suitcase was and went to get it for her when she said the guest room.

He came back with the suitcase and trash bags. “Just in case you need it,” he said. “I’m going to check the room some more.” She nodded, and he walked away.

Some of her clothing was fine and some had been singed through the wood. She put the clothes she would keep in the suitcase while with a heavy heart she tossed out her other things. Everything she packed would need a wash, but at least she had some clothing.

Mulder came back with a bag full of her toiletries and she smiled her thanks. “Do you have another bag? I’ll start loading up shoes,” he said and she stopped him briefly with a squeeze of his hand. He nodded and went to find the other bags in the guest room.

An hour and a half later, they had loaded up her car with items she would need. Some clothes, shoes, coats, toiletries, electronics, and other items. She called Alan and left a message to get in touch with her as soon as possible. Part of her was grateful she missed him, while the other part dreaded his return phone call.

The foreman in charge, Gary, said it would be a few weeks of work, at least, as they needed to check for major damage. Scully nodded and sighed, afraid that was going to be the answer.

“We’ll do what we can today and then board up the window. That glass has to be specially ordered,” Gary said with a sympathetic smile.

“Of course it does,” Scully sighed and then smiled slightly at him. “Thank you, Gary.” He nodded and headed back inside.

“Well, this seems fitting,” she said, putting her hands in her pockets. “Honestly, I’m surprised one of our places never blew up at some point in the past.” She laughed and he smiled.

“So many other things happened, just not that,” he nodded and put his hands in his pockets too, his eyes asking questions his mouth was not voicing.

“Mulder,” she began, but he cut her off.

“Scully,” he shook his head at her with a small smile. “It’s … you do what you want, whatever makes you most comfortable. I … it’s your decision and … the room is there if you want it, but I understand.”

She smiled and stepped closer to him, searching his face. “Thank you, Mulder,” she said quietly, her hands moving to hold his face. He leaned in and kissed her softly, his hands moving to her waist. She pulled back and sighed. “I’m going to go to a hotel. I … I think that would be best.” He stared at her and nodded, a small sad smile on his face.

Stepping back, he put his hands in his pockets again. “You want me to follow you? Help you unload the car?”

“No,” she answered. “I’ll be okay.”

He nodded and shuffled his feet around. “Well … then I should probably head home, make sure the onslaught of drones didn’t destroy the house. Maybe get some sleep,” he said with a shrug and smiled again, but she knew it was forced. She sighed, and he touched her face, his thumb stroking her cheek.

Stepping back, he smiled again and this time it almost reached his eyes. “Okay, I’ll talk to you later. Next time, I get to pick the restaurant, and maybe we can avoid this kind of fiasco.”

“Oh, this was my fault?” she asked, waving her arm toward the house, her eyebrows raised.

“You suggested the sushi place,” he responded with a shrug.

“And you didn’t tip, which set off this whole chain reaction.”

“Tip a place that gave me a disgusting smelling blobfish?!” he said taking his hands from his pockets and raising his arms in an exasperated stance. “How was I to know those goddamn robots were going to freak the fuck out?”

“And damn near kill me?” she said with a pointed look, causing him to hang his head. Lifting his head, he sighed, and she began to laugh. He shook his head, and she laughed harder.

“It’s a strange thing to laugh about, Scully,” he said and she laughed harder, the night finally catching up to her making her feel punch-drunk. “Go get some sleep.” He nodded, and she tried to sober up enough to say goodbye to him, but she failed. He waved to her as he got in his car, and she waved back.

Standing there alone, she looked around at the house again and sighed. Staying there had been fun, and she loved the comforts it afforded. Now she was going to be in a hotel for who knew how long. She easily could have gone back to the house with Mulder, stayed in the guest room again, but she knew how that would end. No chance would she be able to resist joining him in their bed this time. No chance.

She sighed as she looked at her burnt bedroom furniture sitting outside before getting in her car. The past couple of months had been wonderful, but even the amount of amazing sex they were having did not make a relationship. They were, and always would be, friends before everything else and right now, that was how it felt … kind of. Not ‘friends with benefits’ because that would never be who they were. Their attraction and desire for one another was far too strong for that. But right now … it felt like they were treading water, standing still, and waiting for something to happen.

Her phone beeped and she picked it up, finding a message from Mulder.

Hope purple is okay. Also, I thought you could do with an upgrade.

She frowned as she read it and then her cheeks flamed as the screenshot of an order he placed popped up. A new personal massager had been ordered and would be sent to the house. His house … their house. God, she hated the uncertainty she felt about it.

In no way am I trying to persuade you to change your mind, but just letting you know it will be here. Fully charged and ready for any activities you wish to use it for. ; )

Her pulse raced as she thought of the last time her old one was used, before it had been tossed away. She remembered the feel of it against her aroused flesh, the way it was dragged across her hot skin, the vibrations of it making her moan and shake, when it was placed exactly where she wanted and needed it.

“I love watching you come,” Mulder had whispered to her as he turned it up higher and she broke with a cry, clutching at his arm, spots dancing in front of her eyes.  

The scent of chlorine from their tryst in the hot tub, had invaded her senses as she came down and pulled his hand away from her, the sensations too intense. In the fumble of limbs, it must have gotten knocked from his hand and fallen under the bed. There it had remained, forgotten, as she had not been in need of it recently.

Looking at her messages again, she zoomed in more closely at the order form, mainly the timestamp on it. He ordered it when they were in the diner, while she was in the bathroom it seemed, but he said nothing until now. God, she loved him.

Shaking her head, she typed out a response, her cheeks flushed and a huge smile on her face.

Purple will be most welcome. And an upgrade with a couple new speed settings? Keep it charged up, and I’ll be sure to stop by and find out what all the BUZZ is about.

Sending it to him, she set the phone in the cup holder and put the keys in the ignition and started the car. Glancing down when she heard a beep, she grinned at the three words she saw as she put the car in drive.

Jesus Christ, Scully …