srideviglobal

[carefulfears]

top five annoying mulder moments <3

okay, i have two lists for you: annoying moments that i find endearing, and annoying moments that make me want to beat him over the head with a chair

annoying moments that i find endearing:

(as of today, these could all be different tomorrow)

1/ "you mean i might get my 29.95 worth after all?" (731)

insane thing to say with 6 minutes to live about the mail-order VHS tape that might save your life. the way he casually cracked jokes in front of that bomb haunts me. unfortunately, this joke made me laugh so hard when i first watched this episode, that it became a core memory of the show to me, and it's still one of my favorite lines

related: putting on a comedy show for the nazis in the pine bluff variant

"ooh, is this the pepsi challenge? how 'bout some fresh air, boys" "you can just call me a cab, that'd be fine" sir they are about to execute you in a field

2/ his general behavior with the neighbors in arcadia

not his behavior towards scully, that's a different thing. i'm talking about mulder showing up in a neighborhood that deeply values regulations and appearances, and dragging out his basketball hoop at 10:30 at night. kicking mailboxes. putting that plastic flamingo in the lawn.

he went undercover in this subdivision to investigate the disappearances of multiple missing families, and his entire investigative strategy, is to fuck around and find out.

the fact that the neighbors start off concerned for him, worried that the monster is going to kill him for violating the HOA rules, and trying to warn him and help him, but eventually are so irritated that they decide to just leave him to die

is without a doubt my favorite thing about this episode.

3/ running in front of a car (colony)

literally made eye contact with the driver and kept running into traffic....busted up that guy's whole windshield.....like he went THROUGH that guy's windshield.....once again, i say, do you have ANY IDEA HOW PISSED I WOULD BE to just be minding my own business driving home from work, and end up with a MULDER-SHAPED HOLE in my windshield.....and then he just mumbled something about getting the wind knocked out of him?? and got up and kept running?? you KNOW he didn't pay for that guy's car. used "i got hit by a car" as an excuse for not filing his report on time??? i love him but he is not serious people

4/ reading the articles in a porno mag at the office (the jersey devil)

the jersey devil my most beloved most watched episode ever....cannot even express to you how funny i find it that when scully got into work, he's just sitting there staring intently at porn and starts telling her about the articles. he turns the magazine so that she can see. kinda the funniest thing that he ever did.

+ scully's lil "workin hard, mulder?" and "sorry to interrupt your serious investigation" ...they're best friends

5/ "why don't you take that gun and shoot yourself in the head like you shot my father" (piper maru)

girl WHAAAAAATTTTT??

BONUS: all of his comments about religion (various episodes)

i put this one on the list and took it back off so many times but i have to speak my truth. every last one of them. i know they're mean and judgmental. i like it.

honorable mention: the mulder ditch™ (too many episodes in too many circumstances to make one of the lists but the way he constantly just leaves scully places deserves to be included. he literally has the object permanence of a 3-month old)

annoying moments that make me contemplate violence:

(only came up with 4 for now...but they're serious to me)

1/ "when he's old enough, tell the kid i went down swinging." (vienen)

me when i'm two weeks out of the grave and have purposefully endangered my ass on a boat full of killer alien goo and my idea of a funny sarcastic joke is to goad my partner into saving me by JOKING!!!! about her having to tell my baby that i'm DEAD!!!

what compelled him to say this. this is my "WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT THIS" infographic mulder moment.

my favorite part is how scully doesn't even address it she just gives that kind of "jesus fucking christ" sigh and tells him to put doggett on the phone lol

2/ “all this because i didn’t get you a desk?” (never again)

literally god forbid a girl have an existential crisis in some FUCKING PEACEEEEE

3/ "diana saw it too. and no matter what you think, she's certainly not going to go around saying that just because science can't prove it, it isn't true." (the beginning)

lolololololol

listen, i defend him for the diana stuff, and i get it. i could write you a dissertation on the complications and emotions of it and why he says things like this or whatever. but it still annoys the ever-loving fucking hell out of me.

this one bothers me more than "scully, you're making this personal" because it's such a direct blow to the core of their dynamic and to what she tries to do for him. this comes so soon after he looked at her in the hallway and told her that her rationalism and science saved him.

which is a moment that meant so much to her and that she references in this same episode. she grabs his hand and she says "you told me that my science kept you honest. that it made you question your assumptions. that by it, i'd made you a whole person."

she has memorized everything that he's ever said and she heard him so deeply in that hallway. she stays so dedicated to offering that science and rationalism that she knows he needs, that she heard him say was best for him.

that moment in that hallway changed them for the rest of their lives, and this is when skepticism and belief start to morph from genuine ideology into roles that they play for each other.

she's doing her part, she's offering him her side, she's playing her role. and he throws it back in her face, says he'll just go play with diana then, because diana would never counter him with science.

LOLLLL okay then spooky, we'll fucking see if it's diana that comes to save your ass in the bermuda triangle

4/ "you act like you're surprised" (three words)

debated putting this one on here because everyone knows i loveeee three words and i loveeee s8 mulder and i'm obsessed with this scene, i've written multiple pieces about the fish in it, i wouldn't change a word of it

but i just have to because this is the other one that grates at me in the back of my head from time to time...because it's not that he doesn't think resurrection is surprising. it's not that he thinks it's a given that he'll always be around.

he just cannot hear and acknowledge how painful and difficult losing him was for her. because it would mean hearing and acknowledging that what he does matters, not because of what he can do or find, but because it matters that he's there. because it matters whether he lives or dies.

this episode is so heartbreakingly cruel in a way that they just aren't to each other, and that's what i love about it and what makes it stand out to me.

she's pregnant with his baby and she buried him. she was ripped off of his corpse screaming and she planned a funeral and decorated a nursery at the same time, alone. she sat in a hospital chair and held his hand for days when she knew he couldn't feel it.

for six months, he was gone. for three months, he wasn't ever coming back. that first day that they were looking for him, she teared up and whispered, "i just can't take the chance that i'm never gonna see him again," to skinner, and then she lived in a reality where she was never going to see him again. for three months.

she prayed and she prayed and she prayed and then she got to cry and laugh and hold onto him and take him home. and she tried to tell him, quietly, about the last six months. about how she doesn't think he could ever understand what it was like. about how she prayed, and about how her prayers "have been answered."

she told him how hard it was to learn he was missing, to search, to find him dead. "and now to have you back...," she smiled and said through tears.

"well, you act like you're surprised."

in less than 24 hours he is going to run towards death again and she is going to be left again with nothing to do but pray, and he cannot hear that it matters.

(y’all, remind me to do a post about mulder + humor in s8)

BONUS: referring to his mother's house as "the vineyard" (various episodes)

this one isn't that deep to me but "scully, i'm at the vineyard" just IRKS me like it gets on my NERVES. just an obnoxious ass thing to say

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s4 episode 17 thoughts

hey guys. i need answers…. i need them.

but i have a strict “one episode a day” and “post the thoughts from last episode before starting the new one” rule and!!! i must follow the rules.

i wish this episode relied less on the assumption that the audience knows how planes work. but. i digress.

back to who i was before this episode....

a lot of you may know that it is scully and mulder time. 

ohhhh i’m reading the episode description and i see what is going on here… a two parter!!! well, i am prepared to handle this, yes i am. we have been due for a two parter, so i look forward to learning about this UFO.

let us open with a pretty shot of the sky… we are somewhere over upstate new york… a good place to be

in a plane. this guy seems drunk. i do not care for how he looked at this woman.

“you could fly every day for the next 26,000 years before you’d have an accident”, says drunk guy that will most certainly manifest a plane crash

shaggy redhead sitting next to drunk man seems very afraid of the dude on the back of the plane in a suit. uh oh! let me guess…. alien bounty hunter?

(author's note: nah. it was a good guess, though!)

suit man just locked himself in the bathroom and pulled out the spring in a pen to a dramatic flourish. is the pen spring supposed to indicate something to me? because i do not associate them with danger.

oh! he made a little gun out of pieces. huh. kinda neat. even if it is terrifying. just from a DIY perspective.

sometimes i forget that before 9/11 you could just do stuff on planes and no one really gave a damn

but now the plane is shaking. man with gun is watching all the screaming and jostling go down. redhead seems very scared while bright lights shine into the plane. oh! and then a window/door thing gets sucked outside??

deeply unfortunate.

(cue spooky intro)

WAIT! we are at a restaurant with mulder and scully and someone is bringing out a cake??? and they are singing happy birthday to her!!! oh my gosh, is it her birthday or is this a ploy by mulder to get free cake?

“I DIDN’T KNOW IT WAS YOUR BIRTHDAY, SCULLY” <- JDHDJJDJD IS HE REALLY ABOUT GETTING THAT FREE CAKE LIFE????

no, no, it IS in fact dana scully's birthday, a remarkable occasion indeed. however. there is no funnier thing than faking a birthday to get cake at a restaurant. and maybe i need to write that fic someday.

oh my gosh, she says he has never once remembered her birthday, so he says something about it being the way he likes to celebrate them, every 4 years...... THIS IDIOT 😭😭

i cannot believe this man... he can remember any myth he read when he was 11, but he cannot keep his best friend's birthday in his head. and while that is a tragic flaw and indication of his ahab-ness, the fact that he knew scully was sick so he stepped it up still says a lot.

oh he brought a GIFT shut up!!!!!! and he pulls out a tiny little box... she says “oh you have GOT to be kidding me” and he jokes about turning the alien implants into earrings but it’s an apollo 11 keychain 😭😭😭 STOP this is so sweet!!!!! oh my gosh he wanted to make sure she knew she was loved 

(her birthday is in february so i’m not sure i see the connection to her and apollo 11 beyond her being a general nerd, and i think her birth and the moon landing happened in the same year, but i digress)

someone is talking to them! “oh promise me this isn’t leading to something embarrassing” she says <- HDHSJDHJE 

but no! this woman- sharon- confesses to have followed them there??? well that is very creepy. and that she was told to talk to them if something happened.

GIRL!!!! LET HER HAVE A NICE DINNER 😭

sharon says that her brother, max fenig, was bringing them something that night, but the plane he was on went down.

and how did he know where they were going to be? i am going to assume that he is simply a stalker and not that mulder arranged for a UFO information exchange on scully's birthday. no ma'am. i refuse.

(also, i was distracted by mulder chewing on something this whole scene. at first i thought it was a cigarette, but then clearly it wasn’t, so maybe a lollipop? looked too big to be a toothpick. oh god, don’t tell me he’s a toothpick guy)

anyway. plane crash time. let's go to the conference where the plane people discuss such news.

initial reports say no survivors. people are smoking in here which is crazy. i understand that this show takes place in the 90's, but sometimes i lowkey forget until i see stuff like that and go ohhhhh right right.

this has been a sad turn to date night!!!

they’re listening to the last audio recording from the plane, and the pilot is yelling “my god!” and “mayday!” which is not inspiring any warm and fuzzy feelings

so mulder asks if there was any evidence that the plane was intercepted, because we heard the voice say it was, but plane guy who is in charge of this meeting says hmm, nope, not that i know of.

(is the pilot saying that there was an interception.... not evidence... of an interception??)

mulder says well, there was a famous alien abductee on the plane. which gets the crowd giggling.

scully is watching like ohhh my god and when plane guy asks if this is an official FBI position he turns and looks to her and then says no. plane guy says he is trivializing this tragedy. WHICH I DISAGREE WITH!

IF there was a man claiming to be abducted by UFOs, and the plane he was on mysteriously went down, and the pilot said it was intercepted, but for some reason the fact that the pilot SAID THAT is being disregarded- i'm sorry, my red flags would be going off. for multiple different reasons. if i were plane guy i'd be thinking, gee, maybe this max character was a government target- i mean, if he got famous off of UFOs, who is to say he wasn't up to more shady activities? maybe he was planning a coup in the dominican republic, or smuggling government secrets of a nature that is still important but less outlandish than UFOs, or embezzling, etc. all i am saying, from my reasonable skeptic point of view, is i would think hmm, that's odd. we'll have to note that for our investigation, mr. mulder. maybe max was targeted for a specific reason, aliens or no aliens.

of course, this plane guy claims there WAS no max fenig on the plane, but it seemed pretty easy to lie pre-TSA

“sure know how to make a girl feel special on her birthday” HDHJSJDKSJDJDJDJDJ 

nooo... i feel bad for birthday scully :( why is he always up to some sort of alien shenanigans instead of cherishing her? :( i GET it, i get his life's mission, etc etc but cherishing your friends should be mandatory, especially when it is a friend as lovely as scully

at the crash site, things are looking very very very sad. many bodies are in bags. 

but where is the plane??

poor scully has to shout due to all the helicopter noises, which had to be a pain to film.

what would finding max fenig prove? mulder doesn’t know. but perhaps that 1 life was worth sacrificing 133 others. 

damn. that’s a downer. and we started on such a high note!!!!

the guy who had the DIY gun on the plane has been entirely cut in half. but one of the people from the IIC (and what the hell even IS the IIC?) took his gun!! it was the guy with the big mustache! and they’re spraying him with some stuff? that can’t be normal practice, can it?

scully sees a watch on a corpse’s arm :( mulder sees some glasses :(

they each find a watch!! and the watches from the victims say 8:01, but the time of the crash was listened as 7:52!!!! so… what is the truth??

“nine minutes, scully. do you remember the last time you were missing nine minutes?” <- is that a rhetorical question or a throwback to the pilot

mulder seems to think now that perhaps max was on the plane, but did not finish the journey with the rest of the passengers… hmm… like they shot him??? what do you mean, cryptic man???

oh! one of the people from the crash is alive!!! get a medic NOW!!!! scully is here!!!!! she is telling you what he is going to need and you had better get it quick!!!

now scully is waiting for a plane in the cold. what!!! she is cold!!!! get her inside!!!

she was waiting for sharon from before, who brought all of her letters from her brother max. scully says that they think she isn’t telling them everything, and that she had better do so. NOW. she is not messing around.

oh!!!! the man who was alive has burns that are associated with a high level of radiation!! see, i assumed he just was hit by a piece of flaming sky junk. that foreshadowing went right over my head. 

it was drunk man from before who was burnt!!! so is it whatever max had on him that was radioactive??? they confirm that it was max, he was just using a pen name, which he had a lot of. 

max worked at job with plutonium and uranium. well. maybe that could do it. not sure what he’d to do with all that or how it got on a plane. maybe it could have caused the crash.

mulder is launching into his “max HAD to have been abducted” theory and about how no one will ever believe him and it will go unsolved forever. scully keeps trying to cut him off…

max is back!!!! where from???

oh. he is dead. that is how they found him.

mulder still doesn’t think the crash is explained.

sigh. you just want to have a nice birthday dinner with the guy you've thought was cute for the last 4 years, and he never once remembered your birthday until now, but then he gets an alien call and slips into ahab mode. scully has truly suffered so much.

sharon is reading many many many letters when a flashing and shaking occurs!!! more aliens???? oh man. this is intense. 

CUT TO BLACK??? rude as hell. where did sharon go!!!

(i think i know where sharon went)

okay, now mulder is walking among the many bodies recovered from the crash scene. he finds max and unzips him. and in his pocket he had mulder’s business card!!! despite it being covered in blood, he puts it in his pocket, and seems very sad. it cannot be an easy thing to see. but still. blood-borne illnesses, man.

he is now unzipping more and more bodies. what do you think, you beautiful tortured man?

he is furious that the IIC is going to claim that they don’t know what went on. and i still don't know what the IIC is. maybe they don't even know about the alien stuff. not everyone has CSM levels of alien knowledge.

(side note... why do you think deep throat was snitching to mulder?? was it part of CSM's plan, or did the fight? was it toxic old man yaoi?)

back to the matter at hand. “mulder, why can’t you just accept the facts?” (with his hand on her back, walking her away) “because there are no facts, scully. what they’re telling you, what they’re going to report, they’re the opposite of facts- a claim to ignorance of the facts” oh man, he’s yapping! but he has a point.

“claimed steadfastly, ignorance becomes as acceptable as the truth” <- he’s lowkey right though… he ate with that one thing

still pissed he cannot remember birthdays.

he points out that all of the watches have been stolen that show the difference in 9 minutes between the reported and the actual crash time!!! and that somehow they need to figure out what happened in those 9 minutes. hmm. is this a possible task?

well, with a rental car, you can go anywhere, including to this military base.

oh no!!! someone already came and asked this military man (later revealed to be named louis frish) about the crash, the night it happened! oh no… someone else has a lead

hmm….. hmm…. some discrepancies in stories are occurring here. it must be CSM.

uh oh... the minute they leave, louis frish says to his buddy that he told them “what he was supposed to say”… there is STRANGENESS afoot!!! this other guy says if they come back, he’s gonna tell them the truth.

back to the motel…. well, sharon is no longer there!!! surely you recall the lights and the shaking, etc etc! the landlord seems to think that she trashed the room and dipped, and is telling our agents they MUST pay for it. she was making her 5 seconds of screen time COUNT.

“okay scully, hit me with your best shot, what do you think happened here?” (deep sigh) “i haven’t a clue” <- i love when they admit they don’t know wtf is going on. i think it’s very endearing.

plane guy shows up!!! mulder is being snippy with him about the lack of evidence, but he comes with evidence in hand!!! he won’t make an announcement though, because he’s afraid he’ll sound as crazy as mulder. woah… plane guy redemption arc??

the plane had wear and tear marks, but the gag is it was a brand new plane!!! and all of the cracks radiate from the door they think was blown off!!!

big shoutout to mulder for trusting his door launching instincts. 

back at the air force base….. the one guy who said he was gonna snitch has a bullet hole in his head!!! and three cars are rapidly approaching!!! including one with shady mustache man who was spraying drunk guy’s body!!!

louis frish is hiding on the roof. hmm. hope they don't climb up there to check.

mulder is rocking back and forth, listening to the audio from the flight. then he busts out a rotary phone and spins it with great determination. another forcible reminder of the 90's. also, him rocking back and forth was funny. it was giving old man on a porch energy.

he’s calling scully!! she sounds very sleepy and points out that they have been up for over 36 hours, but he asks if she can please come over, as he thinks he has heard this voice before

yayyy, they can say they know who the voice belongs to, and then fall asleep all cuddled up <3 and everyone lived happily ever after- the end!

NO!!! when she gets out of her room, someone GRABS HER!!! this guy is closing her mouth and saying not to scream, which really makes a person want to scream more, i can imagine.

it’s louis frish??? saying he caused the plane crash???

girl. i was ready for some snuggling.... gtfo with this nonsense.

ooooookay, so it was frish whose voice they heard on the recording! frish says he was ordered to lie about what happened to the flight…. and now he’s fessing up that he saw a second aircraft shadowing it, then an explosion, then the disappearance. 

plane guy is saying that this guy must be a liar. but mulder says there has to be a THIRD aircraft, shot down by the intercept aircraft, which caused this crash. so there has to be a second crash site.

man, i was still thinking about them cuddling, but sure. sure, we have 3 aircraft now. i'm getting lost but i'll just roll with it.

plane guy says that if there is a second crash site they need to find it. i cannot get a read on him. also, frish the whistleblower needs to be kept somewhere safe because the military is clearly gonna kill him.

time to head out…. but cars are approaching!!! can a man who hasn’t slept in 36 hours do a high speed chase? well, he sure can, but the question is more about the ethics than the actual possibility. 

mulder’s crazy idea is to drive straight into a landing plane which just BARELY works and scully straight up was looking death in the face. 

plane guy goes to the OG crash site and sees a UFO!!! it has a beam it is scanning down on the wreckage!!!! he seems entirely gagged and runs towards it, which is not what i would do in that situation. i would be hiding. and then it wooshes away!!!

NO!!!!! it is above him now!!!!!! the beam is shining upon him…. but it wooshes away again. phew. that was very close.

however, a woman is wailing in the trees. SHARON??? is that you??? plane guy is running toward the voice!!!! and it is sharon!!!

plane guy holds sharon as she sobs and begs him not to let them take her again…….. which is a lot of responsibility to place on a random guy, but clearly she has been through a lot.

mulder and scully and frish are trying to get on a plane now. but mulder says what if there IS no second crash site because the second aircraft never fell??

well, i was just getting used to the idea of there being a second crash site, and now it has been taken away from me!!! but i assume he is saying that the UFO must have gotten away fine???

(author's note: no! no, i assumed wrong, for he surmised correctly that it crashed underwater? again, was i supposed to be following that? because i wasn't)

scully does not want to take frish back to DC by herself, and who can blame her? that’s a long drive with a strange man! and surely now mulder is going to run off and engage in some sort of antics!! probably to get himself kidnapped and all that!!!!

aww, but he waves goodbye as their airplane takes off. and then he sets out into the night. 

he drives out to the lake where he thinks maybe the UFO got away, where some guy is telling him there is a hovering light flying over every now and then

scully brings this frish guy back to her HOUSE??? she says she needs to get some stuff before she talks to her agent in charge and i’m thinking no!!! what if he’s lying!?! you brought him into your house!!! what if he gets you?!?

he’s having a crisis of faith on if he’ll get arrested for lying about the plane crash, and i’m sorry to hear he has to live with that guilt, but let’s do this in a place where she doesn't live. 

she says she will do her best to tell his story to someone who can help him. which is very kind of her. but again. let us not bring strangers to our residence.

and he asks to make a phone call to his girlfriend and say he’s safe but i’m thinking noOooOoo why does it have to be on HER phone???? i don’t trust this man at all!!!!!

mulder is sailing out into the lake with this random guy. oh he’s gonna scuba dive. you see, that isn’t something you should do without experience, but here he is. that's the kinda crazy fox mulder brings to the table.

scully takes frish to a restaurant, and who is here but PENDRELL!!! yelling about her birthday. he tries to buy her a drink, and she points out she is with somebody. he laughs and says well let me buy him one too. good for him! 

BUT MUSTACHE MAN IS HERE. he is trying to SHOOT frish. and pendrell is bringing his drinks over and HE GETS SHOT as SCULLY SHOOTS MUSTACHE GUY.

oh my god. is she gonna watch PENDRELL DIE RIGHT THEN AND THERE???

well i thought he was a bit weird, but i didn’t want to see him BLEED OUT!!!

mulder is diving. into god knows what. i’m scared he’ll get the bends or something. or run out of air. or any other horrific scuba related phenomenon. 

but there is something down there!!! something big and metal. i’m scared some sort of evil creature is going to jump out. 

BAH! ALIEN!!!!

okay, he didn’t jump out, but he was unexpected. 

and the light is back!!!! it must be the UFO!!! come to get the alien and maybe the mulder in the process!

end scene.

woaugh…. 

we started with birthday dinner and ended with dead alien and dying pendrell. what a piece of TV.

honestly, the episode was good, don’t get me wrong. but there was so much happening so quickly that i was a little lost. can you blame me? first we had two aircraft and then three and then two crash sites and then one and then two but the other one was underwater. and it was going really fast. 

i firmly believe that in media like this when the world is always about to blow up, you need to take time to make me care about the characters living or dying. you can't replace character development with a ticking time bomb or blow after blow after blow and expect that to be compelling writing. and while i think in the past seasons there has been an excellent balance of character development to character torture or fighting the end of the world, this season has been very heavy handed on the character torture. and i want to make it clear: i am an angst enthusiast. but also, after a certain point, it's like, are we here to just watch these guys suffer? is that what brings us before the TV screen? you don't need an even ratio of character happy time to character sad time- a small amount of character happy time can go a long, long way, so i'm glad we started with some today- perhaps the first all season?

what i'm trying to say is that the opening is going to to get me through a lot of hard times. but still... mulder doesn’t remember birthdays………. this man... i want to shake him like a rag doll and knock some sense into his head.

oh pendrell... how i wonder where your story will go next!

[xf-cases-solved]

S1E21: Tooms

Case: Guess who's back, back, back! Back again, again, again! Eugene Victor Tooms is back, back, back! Tell a friend! 

Anyway, Tooms is back.

After being rehabilitated and made totally normal and non-cannibalistic by his psychiatrist, the Baltimore court decides that Eugene Victor Tooms is ready to leave the crazy house—where he was serving time for assaulting Scully (he was never charged with eating livers)—and is now free to rejoin society, despite Mulder's attempts to sway the court otherwise, by using his skills as an expert PowerPoint presentation maker. Tooms, of course, has every intention of finishing what he started before being apprehended, so that he can take a nice long hibernation in his bile cocoon, and Mulder has every intention of stopping him before he does. Mulder engages in some mild-to-moderate stalking behaviors; Scully tries not to kill Mulder and then herself out of pure mortification during the world's most uncomfortable slideshow presentation; a retired old cop in a wheelchair returns and makes fewer references to the Holocaust, and is slightly clairvoyant; I have a moment during the episode where I think, "Oh no, shit, wait, I think he does a gross thing here, is this where he—ah man, yep, it sure is," right as Tooms licks his fingers that are covered in roadkill juice; and, most importantly, ASSISTANT DIRECTOR WALTER SKINNER HAS ENTERED THE MFING CHAT!!!!

All rise for that big, bald, beautiful man!

Does someone die in the cold open: Ofc not, Tooms is a fully rehabilitated, mentally sound, non-homicidal freak of nature, who would never hurt a fly, because flies don't have livers. (It's entirely possible I just googled "do flies have livers"...)

Does Mulder present a slideshow: Unfortunately yeah, he does. Kinda wanted to die alongside Scully as he presented his PowerPoint presentation to the courtroom. I'm all for having the strengths of your convictions, babe, but c'mon, even you had to know that wasn't gonna work.

(^ me and scully suffering from immense secondhand embarrassment)

Does the evidence survive the investigation: Actually, yes, I believe it does. They have their findings, and the findings of the retired old cop in a wheelchair (who straight up just. had part of a victim's liver in his apartment? who let him have that?? mulder and scully are out here literally fighting for their lives just to hold onto one shred of evidence, and this hoe just takes biohazardous material with him after his retirement party and holds onto it as a keepsake of his biggest failure as a cop, smh)

Whodunit: Eugene Victor Tooms once again!

Convictions: Escalator did the justice system's work for them.

Did they solve it: I will say yes. The killings have stopped, the perpetrator is dead, they wrote a report with evidence to cite, and even though Skinner is skeptical, Smoking Man tells him he believes their take on things. It's more solved than most of their cases, anyway. WHICH REMINDS ME. There's a bit in the beginning where Scully tells Skinner that their solve rate is at 75%, which is ABOVE BUREAU STANDARDS, like????? Really FBI? The fucking *X-Files division* is doing better than the rest of your departments? And you wonder why people distrust law enforcement, jfc

[how do i determine if a case is solved? check the scale here: x]

THIS EPISODE IS SPONSORED BY: Escalators. Since 1892 [yes I looked it up], escalators have been a godsend for those of us who, for whatever reason, just don't feel like taking the gosh darn stairs. For well over one hundred years, escalators have been a convenient way for you to get around shopping malls, get to and from train platforms, crush your enemies to death with a conveyor belt, get through airports with ease, and so much more! So next time you need to get from one floor of a building or structure to another, or have someone you need to die quickly, consider using an escalator!

***

General Total Stats:

(green means stat has changed since last ep; red means new stat added to list)

Total Cases *Definitively* Solved So Far: 11 (first time they've solved two in a row for a while. must bc they're so high above bureau standards...)

Total Number of "Mulder/Scully, It's Me" Phone Calls: 1

Total Number of Times Scully Has Conveniently Not Seen Something Crucial: 5

Total Number of Times Mulder Has Been in Mortal Danger: 7 (i mean, tooms chased him through the escalator thingy with murderous intent, right?)

Total Number of Times Scully Has Been in Mortal Danger: 8

Total Number of Sexually Charged, Uncomfortably Intimate, and/or Flirty Moments Between Friendly Coworkers: 11 ("mulder, i wouldn't put myself on the line for anybody but you" 🥺 actually that whole little exchange is cute af. mulder's like "don't get in trouble bc of me," and scully is like, "don't tell me what to do, bitch, i love you," and mulder's like, "i don't know how to handle genuine compliments, so i'll just say that if you have iced tea for me i will go down on you right now, no hesitation, forget the stakeout, sit on my face" but then she only has root beer 🙁 or at least that's what i remember happening, i might be paraphrasing)

Total Number of Autopsies Scully Has Performed On Screen: 2

Total Number of Times Scully Plays Doctor: 2

Total Number of Times Mulder Talks to an Informant: 10 

Total Number of Times People Making Out in a Car Are Hurt or Killed: 2

Total Number of Nosebleeds: 4

Total Number of Times Mulder Has Tasted/Sniffed/Touched Something Questionable Without Following Proper Safety Procedures: 2 (but tooms definitely did :( )

Total Number of Times Someone Says "Trust No One": 1 

Total Number of Times Someone Says "I Want to Believe": 3

Total Number of Times Someone Says "The Truth is Out There": 1

Total Number of Cigarettes Cigarette Smoking Man Has Smoked: 6 (lol that stat hasn't gone up since the pilot, and then he shows up in one episode and smokes four of 'em)

Total Number of Maggie Scully Sightings: 1

Total Number of Lone Gunmen Sightings: 1

Total Number of Alex Krycek Sightings: 0 :(

Total Number of Times I Had to Look Up What State the Episode Takes Place in Even Though I Literally Just Watched It: 7½ (i remembered from squeeze, bc sometimes my memory works like how it's supposed to)

Total Number of Times I Had to Look at an Episode's Wikipedia Page to Fill This Out Because It Was Fucking Confusing and/or Too Boring for Me to Pay Attention: 5

[baronessblixen]

Prompt? Mulder and Scully pick out baby furniture and later talk about baby names? Or one or the other, I'm happy either way! 🙈

Look who's answering a five-year-old prompt! I think this was supposed to be about the new baby, but I wrote about William instead.

Fluff, set after "Alone": With Mulder being unemployed, and Scully on maternity leave, they spend their time thinking about furniture, baby names, and all the ways their lives will change. (wc: 1,378)

Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober2023

Fictober Day 14: Preparation is Everything

Fox Mulder is a new man.

His naked body is still adorned with pale scars, but they’re healing, slowly fading away. Soon, they will be gone, and with them the only proof of what he went through. How many people can claim to have come back from the death? Mulder doesn’t even want to know.

The other day, Scully left a pamphlet for group therapy on his coffee table. His first instinct was to throw it into the trash, but then he reconsidered. Scully isn’t pushing him. No one is. They’re all just glad he’s back among the living. Well, most of them. He bets that Kersh can’t wait for him to die for real. That feeling, he realizes, is mutual.

When he stood in front of Kersh's desk, his former boss barely able to contain his glee, he was ready to fight. To defend himself and go on another rampage. That feeling lasted all of five seconds. Not worth it, a voice inside him whispered. He thought of Scully, and the baby, and knew that they were the only thing that mattered to him now. They didn’t need him jumping off oil rigs. He’s caused Scully seven years of grief and he was done. Enough was enough. Someone else could take over the X-Files. He may not trust Doggett yet, but Scully does. And when Scully trusts someone, he knows they’re good people.

So, he’s Fox Mulder now. Just Fox Mulder. Unemployed bum, spending time at his partner’s apartment whenever she lets him, and trying to figure out what to do next.

“What are you doing?” Mulder asks as he steps into the living room where Scully sits on the couch, engrossed in a colorful catalog.

“Looking at baby furniture,” she replies with a sigh.

“I thought- I thought you already had everything.”

“I thought I’d have more time,” she admits sheepishly, biting her lip. Seeing his Scully unprepared for anything just makes him love her more. But he knows better than to tease her.

“Well, you’re in luck,” Mulder says, sitting down next to her. “We both have plenty of time. With me being fired, and you on maternity leave, we have all the time in the world. Let’s go shopping.”

“Mulder, we have the catalog.” She points at a crib with a smiling baby inside of it. Mulder thinks it looks a bit like an alien. “We can order everything we need.”

“Or,” he says, drawing the word out. “We can go into a store and pick things out.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure I don’t want the kid to sleep in a thing that looks like this.” He points at the ugliest crib he’s ever seen. “$1000? Does it come with the whole apartment? Come on, Scully. It’s going to be a nice trip to Babies'R'Us.”

*

“Does no one work anymore?” Mulder mumbles as he and Scully step into the crowded baby store. There are squeaky bright colors everywhere and Mulder doesn’t know where to start. He keeps close to Scully’s side, but she, too, seems overwhelmed by the sheer size of this place.

“Wish you were hunting monsters instead?” he asks Scully and she gives him a small smile.

“At least we have experience with that.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Mulder assures her. “Look, that’s the baby section. Let’s start there.”

In the end, it’s not as difficult as either of them thought it would be. It doesn’t take them long to find the essentials. They both fall in love with the same crib and Mulder gets so excited that he kisses her quickly and noisily in front of another family, not caring at all.

“Mulder.” Her cheeks are coloring and she’s looking around nervously. Old habits die hard.

“I doubt we’ll run into Skinner or Kersh here, Scully. Or anyone we know. Either way, we’re not working together anymore, are we?” The realization hits him that he’s telling the truth. As of right now, they’re no longer work partners. There’s nothing holding them together. He’s not even FBI anymore.

“Are you all right?” Scully touches his chest.

“I’m- I just realized that we’re no longer partners.”

“Are you leaving me?” There’s no worry in her voice, but rather amusement.

“You know what I mean.”

“Mulder, we don’t need to be working together in the basement to be partners. You know that, right? We are partners in this.” She takes his hand and puts it on her stomach. “Unless you-”

“Oh, I want. I’m all in, Scully. I hope you know that?” She nods, and he sees a few tears pool in the corner of her eyes. He almost ruined another moment with his insecurities.

“Do you think we have everything we need for now?”

“You’re tired,” Mulder states and she doesn’t deny it.

“And hungry,” she says with an apologetic smile.

“We’ll get you and Junior something to eat. Let’s get out of here.”

*

Their baby is a pizza lover. They may not know much about their child yet, but they do know that. Mulder watches Scully happily lick her fingers clean after eating a slice of greasy pepperoni pizza and thinks he might even be a little turned out by her enjoyment of it.

“Happy now?” he asks her, unable to hide his own happiness.

“Very much so. I just- I need to get comfortable.” She’s half sitting, half lying on the couch, and watching him with curious eyes. She’s been doing that a lot lately. Who can blame her? After all, she had to bury him. Had to try and make peace with him being gone and having to do all of this on her own. He doesn’t want to think about missing all of this. He’s missed so much already. The moment she found out. The morning sickness. Her growing belly. He missed all of it. He can only try to make up for all of it now. But they will never get that time back.

“Mulder, stop,” she says gently, a hand on his thigh. “I can feel you thinking.”

“Can you?” he asks with a sad smile.

“I wish I could turn back the time and-”

“None of this is your fault, Scully.”

“It’s not your fault either.”

“Debatable.”

“Not debatable,” she says firmly. “You’re here now and it’s everything- Mulder, it’s everything.”

“You know you’ll see a lot of me now, right? With me being out of a job. I need to- I will find something. We can’t let Junior think I’m some kind of slob.”

“You’re going to be an amazing father,” Scully whispers as if she were sharing a secret.

“Let’s hope you’re right.”

“I’m always right.” She winks at him and they both laugh softly. A truce.

“Have you thought about names for Junior?” Mulder asks as Scully snuggles into his side. He puts his arm around her and, a bit more hesitantly, lets his hand wander to her stomach. What a miracle they’ve created together.

“I have a few ideas. What about you?”

“It’s your decision.”

“Mulder.”

“No, I think you should decide. I’ll veto if it’s something like… Nimrod.”

“Too bad. That was my favorite.” She grins up at him. “I was thinking about all the people we lost. Samantha and Melissa. We could pick something similar to that, to honor them. Or give them a name with no memories attached. Give them a fresh start.”

“They deserve a fresh start.” Mulder kisses her temple.

“All of us do,” Scully says, putting her hand on top of Mulder’s on her stomach. “We’ll know what to call him when we see him.”

“Him?” Mulder asks.

“Or her.”

“You know,” Mulder says, closing his eyes, and letting his imagination take over. “I think our child is going to change the world. Save it even, maybe. They’re going to do great things.” He can see it. Can see their child grow up from baby to child, to teenager and adult. He can’t wait to be there and watch every single step they take. Holding their hand if they need him to.

“I think you’re right, Mulder,” Scully says.

“You hear that, baby?” Mulder presses his ear to her stomach, murmuring the words against the fabric of her shirt. “Your mom just said I’m right.”

[goodnightmemes]

BONES SENTENCE STARTERS / s01e01 - s01e04

❛ Look, I'm sorry if I embarrassed you in front of your friends but, next time you should identify yourself before attacking me. ❜

❛ If you drive one more block, I'm screaming 'kidnap' out the window. ❜

❛ What? Do you want me to spit in my hand? We're Scully and Mulder. ❜

❛ I hate psychology and you're just horny. ❜

❛ I don't know about the rest of my life but I sure as hell wish I was alone right now. ❜

❛ I hate it when you make paranoia plausible, it's like sliding off a cliff. ❜

❛ My most meaningful relationships are with dead people! ❜

❛ You ever think you come off kind of distant because you connect too much? ❜

❛ I hate psychology, it's a soft science. ❜

❛ Offer up a little bit of yourself every once and awhile. Just... tell somebody something you're not completely certain you want them to know. ❜

❛ Don't be nice to me after I got you in trouble. ❜

❛ Your heart was in the right place. ❜

❛ No, I'm not a heart person, you're a heart person, I'm a brain person. ❜

❛ My fight or flight response is heavily weighted toward flight. ❜

❛ It's not magic. It's a logical recreation of events based on evidence. ❜

❛ You know, you being a good shot and doing martial arts, it's all your way of dealing. ❜

❛ Who knows better than you how fragile life can be? ❜

❛ That something you don't like to talk about? Families? ❜

❛ Partners, they share things, builds trust. ❜

❛ Stalk me and I will kick your ass. ❜

❛ She only shot him in the leg. Once. ❜

❛ Ughh, you need to get out of the lab you know, watch TV, turn on the radio, anything! ❜

❛ You know, it's okay to be upset. ❜

❛ I wish this is the worst thing I'd seen. ❜

❛ So what do we do, group hug? ❜

❛ I'm sorry but I don't understand the advantage of compromise. ❜

❛ You're making it personal. That doesn't help. ❜

❛ All of us die a little bit on one like this. ❜

❛ Hard at work? There's a shocker. ❜

❛ I think he likes you. God if I were you, I'd buy a ticket on that ride. ❜

❛ You know it's not that scary. You have a few drinks. You move to the music. You might even smile. ❜

❛ It's best to just ride it out, like an earthquake. ❜

❛ You can't make wild accusations about somebody's personal life based on a feeling! ❜

❛ I'm a constant surprise. ❜

❛ She has enough pent up sexual energy to power a small mid-western city. ❜

❛ I'm not angry. Believe me, you do not want to see me angry. That's the last thing you want to see. ❜

❛ You can always count on the dead. ❜

❛ I need subtitles walking in here. ❜

❛ What's the big deal? Is it so odd for you that I have someone in my life? ❜

❛ Alright, you know, you have to quit using the word segue and eschew. They sound French. ❜

❛ You just said that as though it's a good thing and you know what? It's a very, very sad comment on your personal life. ❜

❛ Fanaticism and logic don't go hand in hand. ❜

❛ Where are the reinforcements? Aren't there always reinforcements? ❜

❛ You know you really picked an odd time to have this conversation. ❜

❛ There's no pleasure in taking someone's life. Nothing to celebrate. ❜

❛ Somebody is decomposing as we speak. ❜

❛ This is a work zone. Do not talk sex at work. ❜

❛ All right, look, we've got about a forty-five minute drive. What do you say we pass it in quiet meditation. ❜

❛ You know I'm glad we had that little chat about being nice to the locals. ❜

❛ Last time you had a gun you shot someone. ❜

❛ My gut says it stinks. ❜

❛ I thought we understood each other. ❜

❛ I don't like people who think they're better than other people. ❜

❛ Some people are better than other people. ❜

❛ It's sad. Try to remember that. ❜

❛ I'm not a sociopath. ❜

❛ You're bad with people, okay. No use being offended by the fact. ❜

❛ There are some things you learn by doing... riding a bike, driving a car, pleasing a woman. ❜

❛ You have no idea of how open minded I can be. ❜

❛ Hmm? See, look at that. It stinks. Go ahead, smell it. You know you wanna smell it. It stinks. ❜

❛ I promise you I will find out the truth. ❜

❛ That was not wild and kinky sex. It was very, very basic beginner stuff. Just so you know. ❜

❛ I'm tired of being lied to, so excuse me if I'm indelicate. ❜

❛ You're the least objective person I have ever met. ❜

❛ Maybe if you opened your mind we could find out the actual truth. ❜

❛ Dude, minty burp, still burp. ❜

❛ Sometime when you're not busy, I wonder if I could ask you a few questions about sexual positions. ❜

❛ I will always know the difference between hope and fact. ❜

❛ What I believe doesn't matter. What makes me sad doesn't matter. ❜

❛ That cynicism you affect, it's your way of hiding your deeply romantic nature. ❜

❛ Well this is where a public school education comes in handy. Divide and conquer was the playground motto. ❜

❛ If you don't want to help me just say so. ❜

❛ Just do it. Reap the benefits of my sexual wisdom. ❜

❛ So, uh, what part of 'this is mine' did you not understand? Do I have to say it in Latin? ❜

❛ Just because you say it in that definitive tone doesn't mean it means anything to me. ❜

❛ It's time to live a little, connect with other people. ❜

❛ Are you suggesting I take this opportunity to have sex with [name] on a field trip? ❜

❛ You're a smart ass, you know that? ❜

❛ Objectively I'd say I'm very smart, although it has nothing to do with my ass. ❜

❛ It's an old FBI trick, I'm going to ask somebody who lives here. ❜

❛ What's the fastest way to ship a human arm? ❜

❛ It gave me a few ideas if I ever want to kill someone and get rid of the body. ❜

❛ Don't forget, the heroine always catches the bad guy. ❜

❛ You'd be surprised...when survival instincts kick in… ❜

❛ According to that Peruvian soccer team that crashed in the Andes, human flesh tastes like frogs' legs. ❜

❛ If we were a Peruvian soccer team and crashed into the Andes. Who would you rather eat, me or [name]? ❜

❛ What do you think our chances are of keeping this quiet? ❜

❛ I don't know if a wall of knives is evidence, but it sure is creepy. ❜

❛ Fun and a drink, where do we find that? ❜

❛ I shouldn't be talking shop, not with such a beautiful woman in my arms. ❜

❛ You're the hottest thing this town has seen in a long time. ❜

❛ Now that is somebody who wants to eat your heart. ❜

❛ I mean the whole perfect idea of love is that two people become one...now that's a kind of consumption. ❜

❛ Look, you're nuts, ok. We get it. We don't need to hear the rambling psycho speech on why you did it. ❜

[slippinmickeys]

The Annapolis Grant, part 2/?

He was, frankly, shocked when he saw the client. He was used to older women -- women who'd been divorced, widowed. Women who needed company. About half the clients he went out with didn't even want sex -- they just wanted someone to talk to, someone who'd pay attention to them and treat them with kindness and make them feel pretty, looked after, wanted. For men, escorts were about sex. For women, it was about companionship. He supposed beautiful women needed companionship too, but… He’d never had a client who looked like this. She was young. She was stunning. He wouldn't have been surprised to find her likeness carved in marble at the Smithsonian. She had flowing auburn locks and alabaster skin awash with the lightest freckles. And her eyes. Her eyes were a cobalt blue that could make you forget what you were going to say. This was going to make for an interesting job.

“Hi,” he said, his voice coming out more lively than he’d planned, “are you Dana?”

“No,” the woman said, then shook her head. “I mean yes,” she said. He smiled at her — he was used to women being nervous when employing him for the first time, and he found excessive friendliness generally put them at ease. He grabbed the back of the chair opposite her and asked if he could sit. When she nodded, he sat down and immediately shook out the cloth napkin on the table in front of him, draping it across his lap. Then he reached out a hand.

“It’s nice to meet you, Dana.”

She tentatively reached out and took his proffered hand, her own hand small, but her grip firm.

“What’s your name?” she asked him, the lashes framing her eyes thick as a field of wheat.

He cleared his throat. This woman was making it difficult to think. “What do you want my name to be?” he said, not realizing that it sounded like a creepy pick-up line until the words were out of his mouth.

“This isn’t going to work-“ she started, pushing her chair back from the table. He held out a conciliatory hand, feeling terrible.

“I’m sorry,” he said, genuinely. “That wasn’t a come-on. Melvin explained to me your situation. I wondered if you’d given this guy your fiancé’s name? I know I’m playing a part here, I’m just trying to figure out what the part is.”

“Oh.” She said, looking unsure.

He leaned back in his chair and put both hands on the table.

“Let’s start again,” he said, “Dana, it’s nice to meet you, my name is Fox Mulder. You don’t have to tell me that it sounds like a stripper name.” He saw a corner of her mouth quirk up. “If you’d prefer, you can call me Mulder.”

She nodded slowly, her lips still slightly upturned. She reached out a hand once again.

"It's nice to meet you, Mulder."

XxXxXxXxXxX

"So, how does this work?" she asked.

"You tell me how it works," he said. He was wearing glasses, and she could just make out flecks of gold on his mossy irises through the lens. "I'm at your disposal. Whatever you need… I’m at your beck and call."

"Like Pretty Woman?" she asked.

He chuffed a laugh.

"If you like." He looked over the rim of his spectacles, assessing her for a moment. "Dana, you run the show, here. You're spending a lot of money, and I'll be and do whatever you need."

It felt odd somehow to hear her first name from him.

"Call me... call me Scully. To your Mulder." She knew it was a distancing tactic psychologically, but it made her feel better about what she was doing and who she was doing it with.

"I can do that."

She looked at him a moment with her lips pursed and then all at once, she told him her story in a torrent of words -- her lab, the Annapolis Grant, McKay and his reputation, her spur of the moment white lie about having a fiance, and the domino effect it had had on her life lately. He listened attentively, nodding, his hands on the table in front of himself, his fingertips laced together. He sort of reminded her of a therapist, though she supposed what he did was a kind of therapy. In any event, she felt like she'd exhaled a too-long-held breath, and leaned back in her chair after she was done talking, relieved of a burden.

"Wow," he said.

"Yeah," hearty agreement. She took a breath and leaned forward again, assessing him. She may as well be upfront. "Do you think you can play the part? We'll be running in elite circles... I'll be frank with you -- this whole bonkers idea makes me nervous. Do you think you have the required etiquette to pull this off? I need the Annapolis Grant. Badly. But I'm staking my entire reputation -- personal and professional -- on this. And if there's even a chance..." She fumbled for a moment, a million thoughts running through her head. She had a nightmare picture of him sitting next to her at dinner with McKay, spouting nonsense and being handsy. "I've looked at your medical records and drug tests... I'm not interested in sex," Dana, stop talking! she thought and then plowed ahead. "But you seem clean and polite and... oh God, what am I even trying to say?" She felt flustered and flush (why the hell had she brought up sex?!), and his calm, intense gaze wasn't helping.

He unlaced his fingers.

"In the course of my... work," he said, his voice even and gentle, "I've attended State Dinners and Kennedy Center Honors. I've been at tables with Senators, Congressman. I can be who you need me to be. I can do what you need me to do." She felt tension drain out of her shoulders. "I guess the real question is... can you?" There it was. The real crux of the issue in this madcap scheme. Then, his voice a honeyed rumble, "I can be the person you need me to be with you. Do you think you can be it with me?"

"Yes," she said, the word out of her mouth before she could think it. She felt a steely resolve. "I think I can."

He reached across the table and took her hand, running his thumb over the skin of her wrist.

"Then you've got yourself a fiance. Let's say we go get you a grant."

XxXxXxXxXxX

They had discussed logistics but not minutiae, though they had a five hour flight ahead of them, and she supposed they could tackle it mid-air. She fluffed out her hair and checked her reflection in the passenger-side visor for the fifth time in 20 minutes.

"You need to relax, Dana," Missy said as she flipped the signal for the exit to Reagan National, "if you're going to be this nudgy the entire trip, you should call it off."

"It's just nerves," Scully said, irritation creeping into her voice, flipping the visor back up with a whack.

Missy gave her a side eye and then proceeded to merge toward Departures. "Maybe you should avail yourself of this guy's services right off the bat," she said cheekily.

"I'm not sleeping with him!" Scully didn't know why she was being so defensive.

"Why not, you’re paying for it,” Missy said, smiling, “Anyway, orgasms are good for 'nerves.'"

"Stop."

"I'm just saying, get your money's worth."

"Missy!"

Melissa pulled her car up to the curb, and threw it in park. She turned to Scully.

"It's going to be fine, Dana. One week. From everything you said, this guy has impeccable manners and is fairly intelligent. Just relax about it, okay? Enjoy yourself-"

"Missy-"

"Not like that. Just... try to have a good time? You're going to be on a megayacht for God's sake. Revel a little."

Scully let out a slow breath. "Okay," she said.

Melissa smiled at her reassuringly and popped the trunk.

"Is he meeting you here?" Missy asked.

Scully looked at the window at the various people milling about the sidewalk and skycap.

"Yes," she said absently, scanning the crowd for him.

"Is he cute?"

"Yes," she said, before she realized what her sister was asking. Missy laughed and got out of the car. Scully was just reaching for her own door handle, when the door opened on its own.

Standing there with a smile was Mulder, his hair a glinting chocolate in the hot Virginia sunshine. He was dressed in a tan linen suit, the white shirt underneath buttoned casually. He was wearing glasses and had a large, expensive-looking garment bag looped over his shoulder.

"Scully," he said, holding out his hand to help her from the car. When she stood, she saw her sister standing at the rear of the car watching them, her mouth slightly open, not quite gaping.

"Oh," Mulder said, noticing her by the trunk, "let me get that."

He moved quickly to the trunk and pulled out Scully's suitcase, which he extended the handle of, setting it on the ground. While he was doing this, Melissa connected eyes with Scully, mouthed oh my god! and fanned herself. Scully could feel her face go crimson.

Mulder closed the trunk with a thud.

"Hi," he said to Melissa, holding out his hand, "I'm Mulder."

Missy extended her hand slowly.

"I'm Melissa, Dana's sister," she said, shaking it once, "it's a real pleasure."

"Pleasure is all mine," Mulder said, then looked to Scully expectantly. "You ready to get checked in?" Scully nodded and reached for her suitcase. “I got it,” he said with a smile.

Scully gave him a tight smile back and then waved once to Melissa, turning on her heel toward the airport doors. She could feel Missy's eyes on her, and then felt Mulder's hand come to rest gently on the small of her back, leading her forward into the unknown.

[space-helen]

Heartbeat

Words: 2586

Pairing: Fox Mulder x Reader

A/N: I hope this is ok!! I really enjoyed writing this :)

Request:  Do you think you could do a Mulder x Reader where the reader has diagnosed anxiety, and the only thing that helps her in panic attacks is listening to recordings of calming heartbeats to the point where she’s almost in love with the sound? And one of the creature’s abilities is to distract people by making hallucinations of their biggest weaknesses, and so in the middle of conflict it makes her listen to Mulder’s heartbeat, making her flustered, and she has to abruptly admit her feelings towards him and her fascination with hearts afterwards or while everything is happening? Bonus points if he or Scully find out she has a bunch of heartbeat ASMR in her search history, and they bring it up in conversation before the actual conflict, making her flustered before anything actually happens. (I also want to clarify, I’m not requesting an NSFW fic since I don’t know how you feel about it, I want it to be purely cutesy and romantic.) - Anon

______________________

The sounds of heartbeats played through the headphones as you relaxed backwards in your chair. You closed your eyes and focussed on the soothing pattern. Even if there was no regular pattern to the heartbeats you’d find them.

You breathed in through your nose and held your breath for a couple of seconds before letting it out. Today had been extremely stressful and your anxiety had been through the roof leading to a panic attack. You’d excused yourself from the situation and had come straight here.

Scully entered your shared office to see you behind your desk, going to her own she put down a file “You look relaxed.” she commented and when she had no response from you she turned to your desk. “Y/N?”

Again no response, the sounds playing through the headphones had consumed your mind. 

“Y/N?” she gently put a hand on your shoulder which had you opening your eyes quickly with a start and scrambling to pull the headphones off.

“Dana.” you could feel the embarrassment rise in you. “I’m so sorry I was just listening to a tape and I guess I had the volume up high?”

“Well you either seemed totally engrossed or bored with it. Either way you were relaxed and that’s all that matters. You gave us a little scare earlier, I’m sorry I couldn’t excuse myself sooner” she apologised.

“It’s ok.” You reassured. “Today has been stressful. All those people-” you started to recount the event.

“Y/N, Y/N please don’t worry about it. It’s the end of our shift anyway you should go home.”

“Are you sure?”

“More than. Go on, I’ll be here a little while longer until Mulder comes back.”

“I don’t mind waiting for him too.”

“No. Really don’t worry. We’ll call you if it’s important, you need a break.”

You smiled “If you insist.” Standing up you moved to the coat stand to grab your bag and coat. “Thank you.”

Dana watched you leave the office and sat back and relaxed for a second before deciding to open the file in front of her. An hour soon passed before she was startled out of her workflow by the phone ringing.

Picking it up quickly she pressed the phone to her ear “Dana Scully how may I help?”

“Dana. It’s Y/N. Can you do me a huge favour?” your voice came from the other side of the line.

“Sure what is it?”

“I was supposed to return that tape I was listening to to the library tonight. Would you be able to? I’m so sorry I would have done it myself but I totally forgot and just remembered now.”

“Yeah sure. Is there anything else you’d like me to do?”

“Uh.” you hesitated and went quiet “Actually” you paused again ��Nevermind, ignore me it’s nothing.”

“Are you sure? If I’m out I don’t mind.”

There was a silence “Can you book me out a tape with heartbeat sounds? Anything will do.”

“Sure. Is that all?”

“Yeah that’s it. Thank you Dana.”

“No problem. Get some rest Y/N I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Have a lovely night.”

The phone call had ended and Dana had to admit she was slightly confused by your request. Standing up she moved over to your desk and picked up the cassette player. Curiosity took over and she was soon pressing the play button and bringing the headphones up to her ear to try and get a hint of what you were listening to.

The sound of heartbeats filled her ears and she quirked an eyebrow. She put the played and headphones back down before ejecting the tape and putting it back in it’s case.

Picking it up she returned to her desk and slipped it in her bag as footsteps approached her office. She turned to see Mulder approaching.

“How’d it go?”

He flopped into an empty seat in the office “We have something big on our hands, and not like we’ve seen before.”

“How urgent?”

“We’ll need to start first thing. For now though get some rest.”

Scully nodded “I will but you have to promise you will too.”

He put his hands up “I will.” he pushed himself to a standing position as he walked with Scully out of the building “How was Y/N today?” he questioned.

Scully smiled and quirked and quirked an eyebrow, she knew how much he liked her “She’s good. Had a bit of a wobble earlier but I think she’s ok. It happens to the best of us.”

“As long as she’s ok.”

“Yeah she is. Actually, I have to go and run an errand for her so I’ll catch you tomorrow?”

“Bright and early.” he replied with a smile before parting.

Dana was soon arriving at the Library, she found the heartbeat tapes and looked through them and their descriptions. She noticed your name on many of the checkout lists and picked one that your name wasn’t present on.

She quickly signed back in your old tape and out the new, slipping it into her bag and she continued home.

You’d had a pretty decent night's sleep and were now entering the office. Putting your bag down on your desk you turned to take off your jacket, not realising someone else was in the room. 

“Do I not get a good morning?”

You turned in shock towards Mulder’s voice, he was now rounding his desk to perch on the edge. “I didn’t even realise. I’m so sorry.” you hung up your jacket and gave him a smile “Good Morning Mulder.”

“How was your evening?”

You perched on the edge of your own desk near Mulder “It was good. Dana sent me home and I just had something to eat and went to bed honestly. I was pretty tired. What about yours? How was yesterday?”

He kicked your foot gently with his own and spoke with a smile “I’m glad you had a nice evening. Mine was good and I pretty much did the same. Yesterday was ok, we do have something big on our hands though.”

“Oh yeah?” you questioned “Is it really big or are you just saying that? You have a tendency to over-exaggerate sometimes.” you teased

He grabbed a balled-up piece of paper from his desk and lightly chucked it at you “I’ve never exaggerated in my life.

You crossed your arms over your chest and gave him a smug look.

“Ok maybe I have but I promise you this one is big.” He emphasised the word with his hands.

Dana heard laughter coming from the office and wasn’t surprised at all to see the two of you together in there. “Morning.” she greeted.

Mulder pushed himself off his desk “We should get a move on.” he gestured to the clock and grabbed his keys “I’ll meet you both by the car?”

“Sure.” you agreed. Standing up you went to grab your jacket again. Regretting even taking it off in the first place, if you’d known you’d been going out you wouldn’t have bothered.

“I managed to get you a new tape,” Dana said pulling it out of her bag and offering it to you.

You looked at her in shock briefly, you’d totally forgotten that you’d asked her to get you a new one, you must have been really tired when you’d called her. “Thank you. I really appreciate it.” you could feel the embarrassment rise in you as you took the tape from her and slipped it into the top drawer of your desk. 

“I noticed you borrow heartbeat sounds a lot from the library. Practically every tape has been taken out by you at least once.” she said lightly with cheer in her voice.

“Yeah. It’s nothing really.”

“I’m just interested.”

“I think we should really get going.” You were getting nervous and your words were falling out. Adjusting your coat you left the office and headed towards the car. Dana knew exactly when to drop a topic and knew she’d probably pushed a little bit too far but she was soon following you.

The drive to the location didn’t take long. Picturesque scenery had stretched out around you as Mulder drove. The three of you practically fell out of the vehicle to be greeted by a farmhouse.

You began to walk towards the property when you felt Mulder gently grasp your wrist “There’s one thing you should both know.” he let go and the three of you formed a mini circle. “it apparently likes to project your biggest weaknesses when confronted, it uses them to get away and distract you. Just be careful.”

His eyes locked with yours and you nodded. Mulder was the one to lead the group into the house and made some hand gestures to suggest splitting up.

You slowly walked through the house, your footsteps echoing on the floorboards. The house was run down and abandoned but the light streaming through the windows gave it some life. It was abandoned but certainly not empty.

A creak in the next room caught your attention, slowly creeping into the room you laid your eyes immediately on the culprit. They were incredibly tall and had a rugged appearance but were backing themselves into a corner.

“Hi. I’ve heard that you’ve been causing some problems,” you spoke as you approached carefully. “That’s ok though, we can help you. You might be confused but if you just come with me and my colleagues.”

Your foot landed on a particularly loud floorboard and the person took an abrupt step towards you before slamming themselves back into the wall. “It’s ok. It’s ok it was just the floorboard.”

They started to shake their head violently before stopping and looking you dead in the eye. “Please” you pleaded.

You started to hear a heartbeat and brushed it off as your own, thinking you were getting nervous. “If you’d just come with me.” you took another step closer and the heartbeat got louder and very present in your ears. 

You took another step forward and it was soon rushing away from you and knocking over some of the last pieces of furniture in the house.

You kept your distance but turned with them. “Please just don’t be scared.”

The heartbeat was getting louder and you could hear your name being called and footsteps running up the stairs. Soon the heartbeat was so loud you couldn’t hear much else.

“Y/N?” Mulder came into the room and saw the ‘Monster’ but his eyes quickly found you and he could quickly see how uncomfortable you were. “What is it?” 

The man’s heart spiked in concern and the heartbeat that you could hear mirrored this. As he came closer it became unbearable. You knew what was happening and put out your arm to keep him away from you “Keep your distance.”’

The noise was pounding through your head. Usually, you found it comforting and you suppose there was comfort in the sounds but the amplification of them made them difficult. It was truly turning your biggest weakness into something unpleasant.

“What is it?” Mulder tried to take a step towards you.

Looking at the man you could see the concern in his eyes and the heartbeat became irregular, all you could do was shake your head and step away. “My weakness it’s-”

He wanted to help and his feet were instinctively moving towards you.

“Stop.” you shouted.

The man stopped in his tracks as you walked away “I can’t” you could feel yourself getting emotional, heat rising in your face and eyes getting wet. “Just deal with it.” you called.

“You need to tell me what you’re weakness is.” Mulder spoke.

“It’s… It’s you. Your heartbeat.” You reversed yourself into a corner.

Mulder looked between you and the creature. “And it gets worse the closer I get?”

You nodded and tried to ignore the heartbeat but it was extremely difficult.

Mulder started to approach the monster, there was a screech in your head and the heartbeat amplified more as if the monster was taking it out on you. You backed into a wall and slid down it, hands over your ears trying to gain some relief.

Mulder turned when he heard you sliding down the wall and realised how much you were being affected. Backing up he stood in the corner of the room. The heartbeats amplification lessened and you removed your hands but your eyes were reddened and threatening tears.

“Look. Just stop what you’re doing and come with us. We won’t hurt you, we’ll help you understand what’s happening.”

They took a step into the room. “That’s it. Just come with me to the car and we’ll get you somewhere where they can look after you.” Mulder coaxed

You began to push yourself up off of the floor when you heard a scuffle. Dana had come in through another door and crept up on them and injected them swiftly with a sedative which had them falling to the floor.

Mulder was at your side, putting an arm on the small of your back “It’s gone right?” 

You nodded “I’m sorry-”

“Don’t apologise I can’t even imagine.”

“Thank you Dana.” you smiled 

“He won’t be out for long, we should get someone to come collect him.”

Mulder nodded “Do you have any contacts?”

Scully nodded and was soon leaving to arrange a pick up

You moved to be beside Mulder “I think I have to explain what happened.”

“You don’t.” 

“I do.” the man moved to perch himself on the old dusty desk and you sat next to him “I use heartbeats to overcome anxiety and … well I’m pretty much in love with the sound. I think it chose your heartbeat to amplify because I think I like you Mulder. What happened there basically confirms it.” you let out a small laugh.

“If we’re putting all our cards on the table here.” he looked at you and you turned to him “I have many weaknesses including losing the ones I love and it used that and also used you. When I was walking through the house I saw bodies on the floor and most of them were yours. I kept going because I knew this he hadn’t physically killed anyone yet but when I saw you in pain and couldn’t have me near you? That really hurt.”

You nodded and looked at your hands “So what we’re both saying here is that we have feelings for each other.”

“I guess so.” he let out a breath “Will you let me take you for dinner tonight?”

You nodded “That’d be nice. I think we deserve it.”

“We do.” he smiled and stood up “I think we should probably get out of here before he wakes up.”

“Yeah, we should.” The two of you walked side by side as you left the property to meet Dana by the car, Mulder couldn’t wipe the smirk off of his face.

“They’re on their way to come get him.” She turned to face Mulder properly “What’s got into you?” Scully questioned

Mulder just shrugged and walked over to the driver's side of the car and slid inside. Scully rolled her eyes “Looks like we’re leaving.” She opened the passenger’s side door as you got into the back.

As Scully’s contacts pulled up Mulder began to pull away. He briefly made eye contact with you in the rear-view mirror and smiled and you flashed him a smile of your own.

Tag List: (open)

Fox Mulder:

[atths--twice]

First Family Stakeout

William suddenly seems to be carrying a lot on his mind. Scully is concerned and brings it up to Mulder, who talks to him and finds out it is an easy fix to help their boy. 

A friend created an AU idea and I had to add it to this series. 

December 2o, 2007 New Castle, Pennsylvania 10:30 p.m.

“He’s been awfully quiet the last couple of days,” Scully said to Mulder as they wrapped Christmas presents at the card table in their bedroom after William had gone to bed. “Like he’s got something weighing on him.”

“Maybe he’s trying to figure out the “is Santa real” conundrum?” he suggested with a smile and Scully looked at him with sad eyes.

“I hope not. Not yet anyway. I know the day will come, but not for a bit I hope.”

“You know, for someone who doesn’t exactly believe in the fantastic, you sure surprise me with what you do choose to believe in,” he teased, with a smile.

“Well, there were stories of Santa, or Saint Nicholas, who helped people by bringing gifts or money to those who desperately needed it. He, unlike the things you choose to believe in, was real,” she said, staring at him with her eyebrows raised.

“Not the man we know from the North Pole?” he asked.

“Exactly. He wasn’t some weird man living with little elves who did all the work while he got all the praise. Typical man…” she said, shaking her head and rolling her eyes as he laughed.

“Yet you want William to believe in him?” he said with a chuckle, peeling the backing off a red and white striped bow and pressing it to the package she had wrapped.

“I… I want him to believe in the magic of Christmas, yes,” she said with a nod. “The happiness, joy, surprise. How you can feel the weather change and then smell snow in the air and how the first time it falls, it just feels different.”

“Winter. You’re describing winter,” he said and she tossed a gold bow at him, shaking her head as he laughed.

“That’s not what I mean and you know it.”

“I do. I understand because I want him to believe in the possibilities of fairies, lake monsters—”

“Alligator,” she interrupted, glancing at him as she placed the next gift on top of the rolled out paper, and he narrowed his eyes at her, which caused her to laugh.

“Lake monsters,” he continued. “Aliens, Bigfoot, Chupacabra—”

“Oh, God, that story terrified him.”

“For a week,” he said, shrugging his shoulders, but feeling bad that he had made the story too real, William’s eyes huge as he listened.

“And he slept with us every night.”

“And you loved it.”

“I didn’t love the reason,” she said, the scissors in her hand sliding through the paper in one long fluid motion. “But I did like having him snuggled close, holding him as he slept. It reminded me of when he was a baby.”

“I know,” he said, smiling at her. “And I am sorry I scared him.”

“But…?” she prompted, looking at him as she began to wrap the paper around the rock tumbler they had gotten William for Christmas.

“But it was nice having him with us, hearing him breathing and watching him sleep. We slept that way for so long, it was like muscle memory.”

“I don’t want to say I miss those days, considering how hard it was to always be on the move, but I did like how it kept us close.”

“We still are,” he said and she gave him a look.

“You know what I mean. Hand me the tape, please.” He tore off a piece and gave it to her, repeating the process until the box was wrapped and she slid it to him for the bow. “Our lives have been much better these past three years. You’re free… we’ve put down roots in this house, a place I didn’t think we’d ever have when we were always on the run. But being here and living our lives, we’ve been able to stop worrying. So when our normally talkative son is suddenly quiet, it makes me feel that old sense of unease. ”

“Yeah,” he said with a nod, putting on the bow. “I’ll talk to him tomorrow when he and I are out on our annual Christmas shopping trip.”

“Good. Thank you,” she said with a sigh, lifting another package onto the table. “Just a few more to finish and we can go to bed.”

“I’m here for any and all of your bow sticking needs,” he replied and this time she threw a green bow at him.

_______________

December 21st

Mulder and William left yet another store in the small mall by their home without finding a gift for Scully or Maggie, who would be joining them for Christmas. Nothing Mulder suggested met his approval, shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders as he looked around, but did not seem to see the items in the store.

Recognizing that they were not going to get anywhere, Mulder suggested taking a break and getting something from the food court. William perked up and they headed in that direction, Mulder planning to use that moment to have a chat with him.

They sat down with a large cinnamon roll, two large milks, a huge stack of napkins, four forks and two knives. After William had dropped his fork twice during recent trips, Mulder always grabbed extras to avoid the need to leave him alone at the table to get a replacement.

Cutting William a large piece, he placed it onto a plate and allowed him to then cut it into bite sized pieces, watching him smile when he had done it on his own.

“I think we might have better luck finding something for Mommy and Grandma after we eat this, what do you think?”

“Yeah,” William said, chewing a bite, frosting on his mouth. Mulder smiled as he took his own bite, handing William a napkin.

“Bud,” Mulder said, diving in with his questions. “Mommy and I have noticed that you’re kind of quiet lately. You okay? Feeling alright?”

“Yeah,” William answered with a sigh.

“You sure? Nothing’s on your mind at all?” He pushed a little, wanting to help if he could. William sighed again and put down his fork.

Oh, Mulder thought. It’s serious…

“The other day I was looking at that book Grandma gave me last Christmas. The one about the stars and planets.”

“Okay,” Mulder said, wiping his hands on a napkin and nodding his head.

“And… I was thinking about what you told me about them when she gave it to me. How there are so many planets and stars and who knows what else is really out there.”

“Okay,” Mulder said again, thinking he was beginning to understand.

“I was looking at the book and I thought about aliens and the planets and… do you think they all live on one planet? Are aliens even real? If they are, do they all speak the same language or do you think there are different alien languages? We speak English, but my friend at school, Carla, speaks English and Spanish. And on the Miracle on 34th Street movie, Santa talks to that little girl in… in Dutch. If the earth has so many languages, do you think aliens do too? And what do you think the languages are?

William stopped for a breath and Mulder blinked his eyes, opening his mouth to say what... he was not sure, when William began to speak again.

“And do you think the stars we always see are the only stars in the world? Do we all see the same stars no matter where we live? Do you think that when it’s night here and day in other places that the stars just stop glowing or are they always glowing, but the sun is so much brighter than the moon, that we don’t see it? ‘Cause sometimes, the moon is out when it’s daytime, but you can’t see it as well as at night, and that’s weird.”

Again, Mulder attempted to speak, but William kept talking.

“Do you think we will ever see a star up close? Like in a rocket ship? Do you think a star is really hot like the sun, or maybe it’s a cold hot? It looks hot, but when you touch it it’s cold? I know stars are hot, but what if they were cold? Wouldn’t that be so interesting, Daddy? And we could travel to them, and we could touch them to see if they are cold or not. I wonder if you could stand on a star. But if it's pointy, it might be hard to do it. Not like a cloud. I know you can’t stand on a cloud because it’s mostly air and even if it looks like we could lay down on them, we would fall right through. Mommy told me that when I said clouds would be nice to lay on because they’re so fluffy, like cotton candy. Do you think you would like to sit on a cloud or a star, Daddy? I think a star because…” He smiled and Mulder shook his head at the sheer amount of words that had just poured out of his son’s mouth. “When Mommy told me about the clouds, I was in the hammock with her and she said it probably felt the same way a cloud would feel, because being in the hammock is kind of like floating. Mommy is really smart, so if it is like being in the hammock, then I already know how that feels. But I would really like to touch a star or stand on one to see how it feels. What do you think, Daddy?”

William stared at him, his blue eyes shining and his cheeks pink from the exertion of speaking, the warmth of the mall, and the excitement of his thoughts that he had just shared.

“Wow… what do I think?” Mulder laughed slightly and then put his hand on William’s cheek, rubbing it with his thumb. “I think that you, William Scully Mulder, are an amazing kid. Do you know how many people never ever would even consider thinking those thoughts? And here you are, at six years old, thinking such amazing things in your head.”

“I’m six and a half, Daddy,” he said with a smile.

“That you are,” he said, patting his cheek gently and then moving his hand. “That you are. Have you been thinking about all of that for the past couple of days?”

“Yeah,” William said with a nod.

“Why didn’t you talk to me about it?”

“I don’t know. I was trying to form a hypothesis.”

“Oh. Well now, that’s a word you learned from your Mommy,” Mulder said, smiling at him as he cut a bite of cinnamon roll, William smiling and nodding at him.

“She said it’s like a guess. But it’s about something pacific.”

“Specific,” Mulder said with a chuckle. “And yes it is. So, what were you hypothesizing?”

“I was thinking of the things I just told you,” he replied, cutting into his piece of cinnamon roll.

“Right,” Mulder said, smiling at him and then he nodded. “So your hypothesis is that aliens might exist, they may or may not speak several languages, and that stars could possibly be cold?”

“Yeah,” William said, smiling as he chewed a large bite.

“An excellent hypothesis, I’d say. Especially the bit about the star. I think a cold star would be an amazing discovery. So, how do you suppose you could prove your ideas?”

“I don’t know, Daddy,” he said with a deep sigh, poking at his cinnamon roll. “We can’t fly up in a rocket ship and I don’t know where we could find aliens.”

“Well, I happen to know that there are places to find aliens, or more importantly, that there are times to wait and hope to see an alien,” Mulder said and watched William’s eyes widen.

“Is that true, Daddy?” he whispered, as he leaned forward, a piece of cinnamon roll falling off his fork, and Mulder grinned slowly.

“It is true, bud.”

“Can we go? Can we try to… I just want to see them though, Daddy. I don’t… will they be nice? Not mean?”

“Yes,” Mulder said, ruffling his hair, knowing full well they would not see anything anyway. “We can just see them if that’s all you want. Now, how about we finish this and find gifts for Mom and Grandma?”

“Okay, Daddy,” William said, shoving another bite into his mouth.

___________

“He said all of that?” Scully asked Mulder later that evening as they sat on their screened-in porch, a fire dying out, watching the falling snow and drinking a glass of wine.

“Scully, I swear, in six and a half years, I’ve never heard him say so much in one sitting. It was like… I don’t know,” Mulder said, shaking his head. “But it was more than the words, it was the thoughts he had been holding onto. Huge thoughts which he expressed so well and articulately. I was absolutely blown away.”

“We talked about the clouds when we were in the hammock in… August, I think,” she mused with a quiet sigh. “That means he’s had it simmering in there all this time. Thinking about how he’s basically floated on a cloud, because we laid in the hammock when it was windy. God, Mulder…” She looked at him and shook her head. He could see tears in her eyes and he reached for her hand.

“He’s an amazing kid,” he said, gently squeezing her fingers.

“He used the word hypothesis…” she said, shaking her head again and chuckling as she wiped her eyes. “Read and looked at books, the sky and stars, called up memories and began to analyze what it meant to him. I… I don’t know if I've ever felt so proud. He’s got a scientific mind.”

“Taking after his mama,” he said, kissing her fingers.

“Seems only fair as I am the one who gave birth to him,” she said with a smile. “But he also is so much like you. Being unable to stop talking at times? Head full of so many ideas that they are veering off here and there? That’s definitely you.” She squeezed his hand and he chuckled softly.

“Yeah,” he agreed with a nod and they were silent for a couple of minutes, the snow falling steadily.

“I told him we would try and see an alien,” he said softly and she turned her head to look at him.

“What? Mulder… it’s Christmas.”

“Which is why I told him December 23rd was the best night to wait and see if we can.”

“Why the 23rd?” she asked with a smile.

“A few reasons. One, so we had a day to prepare and make a plan. Two, your mom is arriving the morning of the 24th and I don’t think she would enjoy sitting out in the cold later that night, hoping for the chance to spot an alien.” He grinned and she nodded with a chuckle.

“Quite right.”

“Third, I told him that the 24th was when Santa was out and he and the aliens had made an agreement years ago to not get in each other's way on that night. Seeing that Santa flies through the sky on his way to deliver so many gifts to so many children, he didn’t want to chance being hit by a spaceship. Likewise, he didn’t want to get in their way as they were out exploring the skies, so they made their agreement.”

“Fox Mulder,” she whispered with a smile. “How is it possible that I could find you even more attractive?”

“I know. It’s hard to believe but…” he replied with a shrug and she got out of her chair, climbing into his lap and kissing him deeply.

“Thank you,” she whispered, hugging him and sighing. “For including both beliefs, for keeping the Christmas magic alive and adding your own spin to it.”

“Hmm,” he hummed, holding her close. “I do what I can.” She laughed and whispered in his ear, causing his eyes to widen as he pushed her to her feet, rising with her.

On their way to their room, she stopped outside of William’s door.

“I just want to see him real quick,” she whispered and he smiled in understanding. Turning the knob silently, they walked into the room.

William was sleeping on his back with his mouth open and his arm hanging off the bed. The room was lit with a soft white glow from the small Christmas tree sitting on his dresser, ornaments he had claimed as his own,  hanging from it.

Around the tree were the deer, bear, and pair of foxes they had taken from a cabin in Tennessee where they had spent their first Christmas together. Every animal was well loved and missing fur in some spots, but they were a family favorite. Every year they were the first decorations unpacked as they were always the last to be packed away, William sad to see them go.

“He’s such a beautiful boy,” Scully whispered, gently brushing his hair back and running her fingers over his head as he turned toward the wall and sighed deeply.

She smiled at him, bent to kiss his head, and looked at the animals around the tree, catching Mulder’s eye as she did.

“Worth every penny,” she whispered and he nodded with a smile, thinking the fifty dollars they had spent on four small forest animals had paid for itself many times over.

Walking quietly out of William’s room, they closed the door behind them, and continued down the hall to their bedroom.

_______________

December 23rd 8:30 p.m.

“You’re warm enough?” Mulder asked as he set up the telescope he had found in the basement, and William nodded excitedly.

“Daddy, do you think we’re going to see a UFO?”

“I don’t know, kiddo. Maybe,” Mulder said with a smile. “All we can do is try, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Will, could you come help me with the chairs?” Scully called out.

She was standing by the back of the car they had loaded with camping chairs, heavy blankets, a box of doughnuts, two thermoses of hot chocolate, and extra clothes in case they would be needed. Sleeping bags had been added as well, just in case a sleeping area would be needed.

They were parked in a field near their house, no one else around as they were smartly inside where it was warm. Snow covered the ground, but was not too deep. It was the perfect spot for them to spend what he knew would probably be no more than maybe an hour and a half, William most likely falling asleep as it was already past his bedtime.

“Yes, Mommy! I’m coming!” he called back to her, Mulder smiling as he watched him running over in his snow boots and puffy coat.

Fiddling with the knobs on the telescope, wearing his glasses even though they kept fogging up in the cold weather, knowing what was in focus without glasses, would be blurry to William. When he had it right, he stepped back with a grin and nodded, taking off his glasses and putting them away.

“If you give Daddy the chair,” Scully said as they walked up, looking over at Mulder with a smile. “Will, you can go get the blankets and bring them over.”

“Okay. Here you go, Daddy.” He gave the camping chair to Mulder and ran back to the car.

“He’s really excited,” Scully said. “I am too, truth be told. Stakeouts, snacks… and, well not coffee, but hot chocolate… it feels like old times.”

“I knew you missed it,” he said, taking the chair from its bag, opening it, and setting it down in the snow, tying the bag to the frame of the chair.

“I didn’t say that,” she laughed. “But… this is fun.”

The chairs arranged, William came back with the blankets and set them down on a chair, as Scully walked back to get the food and drinks.

“Come here, Will,” Mulder said, helping him to look in the eyepiece and asking him what he saw.

“The stars,” he said softly. “They’re so bright.” He looked at Mulder and grinned.

They all sat down in their chairs, eating doughnuts and drinking hot chocolate, William getting up many times to look through the telescope, Mulder and Scully sharing smiles as he did.

“What if we don’t see one tonight?” William asked, looking at Mulder with a yawn, about a half an hour later.

“Well, that’s what’s great about research, kiddo, you keep trying,” Mulder said and William walked over to him, standing in front of him with his hands on Mulder’s arms.

“But… I wanted to see them tonight,” he said quietly, playing with the cuff of Mulder’s coat sleeve, his lip wobbling as he tried not to cry.

“Oh, I know you did, Bud.” He pulled him into his lap and hugged him, hearing him crying softly into his neck. Scully looked at him with a concerned look and he smiled, knowing how he could change the sad moment. “Do you know how many nights I’ve spent waiting and looking for UFOs and aliens, Will?”

“No,” came his muffled reply and Mulder smiled.

“So many. I started from about the time I was your age. I would wait and wait and so many times I would see absolutely nothing. But then sometimes, there was just the tiniest bit of evidence and that’s all I needed to keep looking. And look at me now.” He leaned back and smiled at William. “I’m old now, much older than you, but I still believe one day I will see a UFO or have an alien cross my path.”

“You really think you will?”

“No actually, I think we will,” Mulder said, wiping William’s cheeks. “Maybe not tonight, but one day.” William stared at him and then nodded with a sigh.

“I think we will too,” he said, cuddling into Mulder with a sniff and Mulder smiled, rubbing his back.

A clicking sound made him look up and he saw Scully taking pictures with their digital camera. He nodded, closing his eyes as he took a deep breath and let it out, looking up at the starry sky.

William remained on Mulder’s lap, listening to stories of nights his mommy and daddy had spent in forests looking for phenomena in nature. Within minutes he was asleep, Scully taking more pictures of them, kissing William’s forehead and smiling at Mulder.

“He made it longer than I thought he would,” she said softly and Mulder smiled with a nod, looking down as he slept.

“God, he’s so big,” Mulder said, brushing his cheek against William’s forehead. “He is and he isn’t, you know? When he’s sitting on my lap like this, he seems like he’s made up of exceptionally long arms and legs.”

“I know what you mean. Sometimes I see my little boy and sometimes he’ll look at me or stand a certain way and I can only see you in miniature.” She smiled at him and he nodded.

“But not yet,” he whispered to her.

“No. Not yet,” she whispered back, rubbing her hand across William’s puffy jacket. “You want to go home?”

“A few more minutes more,” he said softly, staring down at William again.

“Okay,” she agreed, taking a blanket and covering them, Mulder pulling it around William as he shifted slightly.

Scully moved her chair closer to them, covering her bottom half with a blanket. Laying her head on Mulder’s arm, she placed her hand on top of Mulder’s blanket, rubbing William’s leg gently.

“Just a few minutes, Scully,” Mulder promised and she hummed quietly.

“There’s no hurry, Mulder. We’ve got time.”

“For everything,” he agreed with a sigh, kissing the top of her head as he wished time could be captured and held, keeping them frozen forever in one perfect solitary moment.

________________

December 24th

A muffled shout was heard early in the morning, waking Mulder with a grunt, his eyes flying open as he sat up quickly, breathing hard. Scully hummed out a moan and then she sat up.

“What… what was that?” she asked and he shook his head.

“I think it was William,” he said and they both sprang up, opening their door and running down the hall to his bedroom.

Opening the door, they hurried in, looking around quickly for any type of threat, before looking at William who was standing in front of his dresser holding something in each of his hands.

“Honey, are you okay?’ Scully asked, breathing hard, a hand at her chest.

“Mommy! Daddy! Look! I think it might be from the aliens!” He grinned as he showed them what he was holding: two small, shiny beanie type yellow stars. Stars! And when I picked them up, they were cold!”

“Are you serious?” Mulder asked, reaching out his hand and William placed a star into it.

“Does it feel cold to you, Daddy?” William whispered, staring up at him expectantly.

“I think it just might,” Mulder said, nodding with a smile. “I think you may have a star that’s like the ones they see all time. This is an amazing gift.”

“I know!” William said, taking the star back and staring at it.

Smiling at him, he glanced at Scully, finding her eyes on him as she shook her head with a smile, beginning to figure out what he had done.

William showed the stars to Scully and then took the animals down, playing with all of them together, which gave Scully a chance to step over to Mulder. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she smiled up at him, and shook her head.

“Always full of surprises, you are…” she said and he nodded.

“Gotta keep the belief in the fantastic alive as long as possible,” he said, gripping gently onto her upper arms and smiling at her.

“Could not agree with you more,” she whispered, tilting her head and silently asking for a kiss.

Happy to oblige, he bent his head to kiss her, as William introduced the forest animals to the stars, telling them about aliens who might speak different languages, how he hoped to one day fly across the galaxies in a rocketship, and be able to stand on the highest point of a star.

[silhouetteofacedar]

Fox Mulder, Closet Romantic Ch. 20: Nattduksbord

Previous Chapter - AO3 - MSR, rated E

This means something; Mulder can feel it.

This signifies a shift in their relationship; a step forward, from platonic partners to a romantic couple. It’s a shared experience that has the potential to change their dynamic forever. Years of trust, fighting together against a common enemy, seeking the truth… it could all come crashing down today, in a shopping mall in Woodbridge, Virginia.

They’re going to IKEA.

Summer is on the rise, and the humidity is close to stifling as they buckle into his car. Scully’s wearing a little striped t-shirt, capri pants, and sandals, revealing sky blue painted toes. For a disorienting moment Mulder wonders if he’s going to develop a foot fetish. Probably not, but Dana Scully could make even the most vanilla of men want to do crazy things.

“Do you have your shopping list?” Scully asks as he starts the car.

He pulls the folded scrap of paper out of the chest pocket of his white t-shirt. “Right here,” he replies, eyes darting over to her for one more look as he holds out the list.

She takes it, catching his eyes momentarily. “Why do you keep looking at me like that?” she asks.

I want to suck your toes. “You look nice today, that’s all.”

“Oh. Well, thank you.”

Scully can probably tell he’s desperate for her; she can read him like a dog-eared, yellowed paperback. He’s simultaneously grateful for her sharp instincts and embarrassed by his carnal desires. He hasn’t gotten laid in four years, and he fears he’ll be too eager when the time comes. As it is, he can barely believe she’s let him have even the smallest glimpses of her as a sexual being. She’s intoxicating, and he’s dizzy with the knowledge that this beautiful, brilliant, downright edible woman actually wants him. Him, a mortal man of aliens and bad ties and a porn collection that’s gradually becoming least seventy-five percent redheads. A man without a bed.

Hence their Saturday morning pilgrimage to the shrine where all new couples journey to find furnishings, low prices, and themselves.

“So, we’re looking for one tall bookshelf, a locking filing cabinet, a bed, and two night tables,” Scully reads. She refolds the paper and reaches across him to tuck it back into his shirt pocket. “That’s clearly not all going to fit in this car,” she notes.

“I’ll get the bigger stuff delivered,” he says.

It’s only a twenty minute drive from Mulder’s place, and they have the air-conditioning on. Mulder is starting to relax; it’s been a long time since he’s had a partner, in the domestic sense, and he’d forgotten that it makes the mundane more bearable.

Scully clears her throat almost imperceptibly. “I’m proud of you, by the way.”

“Really? Why?” Mulder asks.

“You managed to get rid of a lot of stuff,” she says, turning up the dial on the car’s air conditioner. “And organization is very clearly not your strong suit, so progress should be acknowledged and celebrated.”

“Yippee,” Mulder deadpans.

“You know, it’s odd; we’ve known each other for all these years and I never asked… why don’t you have a bed, Mulder?”

There it is, the question he knew would come up at some point. He clears his throat, grips the steering wheel a little tighter. “I, uh… I lived with someone, around ‘91. Another agent, actually. We were together for a while, and then one day she took some assignment in Europe and that was that. I got rid of everything that was hers, and that, uh, included the bed.” Technically our bed, he thinks. He winces. He’s never talked to Scully about Diana before, and he wonders if she’ll be upset that he was withholding such a large piece of personal information.

Scully is quiet. “I’m sorry,” she says softly. “That’s… I didn’t know.”

“I’m sorry I never mentioned it,” Mulder says. “It’s not like it’s some big painful secret. I just… don’t really think about her anymore.”

“It’s alright,” Scully says. “I think it’s best for these kinds of things to come up naturally. And… I was dating someone when we met,” Scully confesses. “We broke up as soon as I got back from Bellefleur.”

Mulder looks at her quickly. “Really? Why?”

She furrows her brow. “Multiple reasons, but primarily I realized that this job, my assignment, was bigger than I’d anticipated. And the things you and I went through together, the things I’d seen… when I was honest with myself, I didn’t want to be tied down to him. To have to go home and have this man ask me how my day was, as though he could ever understand even half of what we do.”

“So you chose the job over him,” Mulder muses.

“In essence… I chose you,” Scully points out. “Whether I knew it then or not. I’d never be able to turn my back on you.”

Mulder exhales slowly. He’s strangely moved.

“Take a left at the next light,” Scully prompts softly. “And yes, I do realize the irony in breaking things off with a man because of his normalcy, only to continue trying to date so-called ‘normal’ men.”

Mulder shrugs. “No, it makes sense. Maybe he just wasn’t right for you, but the next normal guy could be, right?”

“Right,” Scully sighs. “Einstein’s definition of insanity. Doing the same thing over and over again while expecting different results.”

“I’ve been led to believe that being with me is another type of insanity,” Mulder points out. “And objectively, I can’t disagree.”

“You do make me crazy,” Scully agrees, voice low. “But that’s not always a bad thing.” He feels her small hand squeeze his thigh. “And I fully intend to return the favor.”

Mulder lets out a quiet groan, hands sweaty on the steering wheel. “You planning on giving me some roadside assistance, Agent Scully? Because I’m gonna need it if you keep doing that.”

She removes her hand, tucks her hair behind her ear. “I didn’t do anything,” she says innocently.

“Uh huh.” He pulls into the IKEA parking lot. “Well, we’re here. You ready?”

“As ready as a person can be for a labyrinthian furniture store on a muggy Saturday,” she replies.

-

“This is fucking ridiculous,” Mulder says from his spot on the bedroom floor, surrounded by scattered pieces of a ‘HOLLEBY’ bedside table. “These instructions are useless and-” he flips through the booklet, “-thirty-two pages long, Jesus.”

Scully doesn’t respond; her eyes are glued to her own manual as she assembles a drawer from the second of the two nightstands. “Shh,” she hushes him softly. “I’m concentrating.”

“How have you managed to put any of these pieces together?” he asks, scooting across the floor to her. “There aren’t even words, just vague illustrations.”

She has a screw between her lips as she lines up two of the wood pieces. “I took wood shop in high school,” she says around the metal pin. She removes it and inserts it into a pre-drilled hole. “I guess that was some kind of preparation for assembling flatpack furniture?”

“That’s adorable,” Mulder says, rising to open a window. The room is stuffy with the day’s heat, and his t-shirt is glued to his back. “Do you still have any of the things you made in class?”

“The step stool in my kitchen,” she replies. “And my mom might have some things I’ve forgotten about.”

He casually strips off his sweaty t-shirt and tosses it in the laundry basket. “Remind me to look at that stool the next time we’re at your place,” he says. “Also I’m gonna order a pizza, you interested?”

Scully looks up at him then and is seemingly surprised by the absence of his shirt. “It’s hot in here,” Mulder explains, almost defensive.

“Oh, I’m not complaining,” Scully says, eyes shamelessly traveling his torso. “And I’m always interested.”

“Are we still talking about pizza here, or…”

“Make my half one with everything, please,” she says, attention returning to her project.

“Wait a minute,” he says, dropping to his knees next to her on the carpet. “I’m not done here.” He leans in and presses his mouth to the juncture of her neck and shoulder, tasting the salt on her skin. How she can still smell so good on a sticky June day, he doesn’t know; but he wants to lick her entire body.

“Mulder,” she sighs, putting down her screwdriver, “You’re distracting me.”

“That’s the idea,” he says, lips wandering up her neck and behind her ear. He flicks his tongue against her earlobe. “Forget the furniture, honey,” he says, all hot breath and lust. “We don’t need it for what I have in mind.”

Suddenly she’s facing him, looping her arms around his neck. “I’m doing this for you,” she purrs. “Do you think I like putting together IKEA furniture? No one likes it, Mulder. It’s like a multidimensional jigsaw puzzle.”

He pulls her onto his lap. “Oh, but I think you do,” he says, nibbling her ear. “You like being capable Doctor Scully, in charge of things… showing me what those hands can do.”

She leans in, licking his full lower lip. “Not everything is about you, Mulder,” she says, pressing a scorching kiss to his mouth. “I’m just doing my coworker a favor.”

“Is that what they call this nowadays?” he asks, hands clasping her hips as she grinds down on his lap.

She shuts him up with a kiss, the furniture and pizza forgotten.

[sisterspooky1013]

Only One Choice, Chapter 11

Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

Spark.

She watches Ethan from the couch as he pulls a tin of muffins out of the oven, arranging a few on a plate. She’s been thinking a lot about what Mulder said about not having a spark with his ex. She wonders if she and Ethan have a spark, or if they did at one point. When she thinks about her relationship with Ethan, what stands out to her is commitment, dedication, stability. And love, of course, she does love him.

When they first met through mutual friends, she wasn’t particularly interested. He was perfectly nice, and good looking enough, but struck her more as a potential friend than a boyfriend. He was steadfast, kept showing up, kept gently working to get to know her, and eventually she started to grow fond of him. They’ve joked that while his attraction to her was immediate, hers to him was more of a slow burn. This is what mature, adult relationships are like, right? Measured, practical, logical. When you’re young, wild, and free, you date whoever you have the most fun with, chasing the next exciting experience and the rush of a first kiss. But the person you marry should be someone who you know will be a dependable partner, a good parent, and a lifelong support. That has always been her belief.

Ethan returns to sit with her on the couch, setting the muffins on the coffee table to cool. He picks up her feet and puts them in his lap, casting her a brief smile before he goes to work pressing his thumbs into her arches as he watches TV.

Spark.

Is that what she feels when she’s with Mulder? A spark? Is that why her stomach goes into knots when he looks at her? Why she feels the overwhelming urge to touch him? The sensation that there is an electrical current passing between them is not one she’s ever felt with Ethan, that’s for sure. There was no adrenaline in their first kiss, only contentment. Comfort, safety, security. These are good feelings, ones you can build a life on. Can you build a life on a spark?

“You still going to try on dresses tomorrow with Missy?” he asks, his eyes glued to the TV screen.

“Mhmm,” she answers over her book, which she hasn’t gotten through a page of in over thirty minutes.

“Are you gonna let me see what you pick?” he asks, glancing at her from the corner of his eye with a surreptitious smirk.

She sets the book on her stomach and gives him a chastising smile. “Of course not, Ethan. That’s against the rules.”

“Who made that rule, anyway? I’ve already seen you naked, I should be able to see you in a fancy dress before the big day,” he says with a pointed look.

She swats him with the book.

“The fact that you’ve already seen me naked is also against the rules, so I guess we’re 0 for 2. Don’t tell my mother that,” she lectures playfully.

“I’m sure she has her suspicions, given that we live together,” he says dryly.

“Leave the woman to her ignorant bliss,” she retorts, and they hold eye contact for a moment, exchanging affectionate smiles.

Not a spark, but maybe an ember. Burning steady, carrying them through the dark nights. Sparks die out quickly. She only hopes her spark with Mulder fades soon, because right now it’s burning so bright it’s distracting her from the ember sitting right at her feet.

———

She frowns at herself in the mirror.

“This one is really pretty, Sis, you don’t like it?” Missy asks, tugging at the train to straighten it out.

“I don’t know. Maybe. No.”

She looks forlornly at the rack of dresses she’s already tried on. Every length and cut, style of bodice and neckline. They all seemed wrong.

“I mean, I know you’re generally hard to please, Dana, but this is getting ridiculous,” Missy laments.

“I know, I’m sorry,” she replies, casting Missy an apologetic look.

“Which one do you think Ethan would like? Would that help you decide?” Missy offers helpfully.

Ethan. Right. She realizes that she’s been thinking about what Mulder would make of her in a white dress. She suspects he’d go for the mermaid fit.

“Can we just try again another day, maybe? I think I’m just not in the right headspace for this,” she pleads with her big sister.

“Sure, whatever you want. Let’s go get coffee or something,” Missy says as she ushers Dana back into the changing room.

They go to her favorite local spot, finding two open armchairs near the fireplace, which is off for the summer. Dana tucks her legs under her torso, sipping at an indulgent white chocolate mocha; she feels the need for small pleasures right now. Missy eyes her appraisingly, and she can feel the third degree that is about to commence.

“So what’s up with you?” she finally asks, her tone inquisitive but not abrasive.

“What do you mean?” Dana asks in reply, avoiding her eyes.

Missy’s head drops to the side in exasperation. “Are you really going to make me spell it out for you, Dana? I’m trying to be supportive of your decision to marry Ethan, but you’re making it really hard being so openly miserable all the time.”

Dana looks at her with surprise and indignation. “I am not miserable.”

“Coulda fooled me,” Missy says sarcastically.

Dana shakes her head. “I’m just...I don’t know, I have a lot on my mind.”

“Care to elaborate?” Missy asks with an expectant look.

She sighs and sets her shoulders. She needs to talk to someone about this, and Missy is literally her only option.

“Okay, but first I need you to promise me you’re not going to make a big deal about this, because it’s really not a big deal,” she prefaces with a stern look.

“You know me, I don’t do big deals,” Missy replies, working hard to hide her anticipation for whatever her little sister is about to reveal.

“Okay. So, I met this man at work,” she starts, and Missy’s eyes go as round as oranges. “Missy, don’t look at me like that.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Missy defends, “go on.” She’s leaning forward in her chair, creating less space between them.

“He’s an agent, he was just picking something up for a case he’s working on, but he asked me out, and we’ve kind of been...we’ve become friends,” she says hesitantly, glancing at Missy to gage her reaction. Missy is forcing a blank expression.

“So...you’re dating him?” she asks flatly.

“No! Oh god, no. I mean, he asked me out and I told him that I have a boyfriend, but now we’re just kind of friends, and….Jesus Christ.” She drops her forehead into her palm. Even describing what’s going on with Mulder is apparently impossible. “We are just friends, but...but I’m having a hard time reconciling how I feel about him.”

“How do you feel about him?” Missy asks.

Dana shakes her head. “I don’t know how to describe it, Missy. I love Ethan, I’m not having doubts about him, but this man...I feel so drawn to him. Being around him feels...almost electric.”

“Like you have a spark?” Missy asks, and Dana’s head snaps to look at her. She’s open, curious.

“Yeah...exactly like that,” she replies regretfully.

Missy nods in understanding, and it somehow makes Dana feel a little better, like she’s not totally crazy. “Tell me about him,” she requests, and Dana can’t help but smile.

“Um, he’s a criminal behavioral analyst, in the Behavioral Science Unit. Oxford educated. He’s funny, but in a dry, intellectual way. He has some pretty outlandish ideas, but he’s so passionate about what he believes in, it’s impossible not to take him seriously. He’s kind of intense, but really alluring.” She pauses, knowing she can’t go on much further without veering into gushing.

“Is he cute?” Missy asks, and Dana closes her eyes.

“SO good looking. Painfully so.” She opens them and Missy is smiling knowingly at her.

“Sounds like a real catch, Sis.”

“Yeah, but I’m engaged to someone who is also a great catch in his own right. I feel like I’m in a romcom.”

“So what are you gonna do?” Missy asks earnestly.

Dana looks at her with surprise. “What do you mean? I’m not going to do anything. It’s just distracting, but obviously nothing can or will come of it.”

Missy gives her a doubtful expression, but then raises her eyes to meet with someone over Dana’s shoulder, giving them a questioning look. Dana turns to see Mulder standing beside her, a cup in his hand and that damn boyish smile on his mouth.

“Hey, Scully, we meet again,” he says, glancing between her and Missy.

“Mulder, hi,” she stumbles, bringing her feet to the floor and squirming around as though he’d caught her in a compromised position. “Um, Mulder, this is my sister, Melissa. Missy, this is Fox Mulder.”

He steps forward and extends his hand to Missy, and she shakes it with a flirtatious smile. “Nice to meet you, Fox.”

“Oh, please call me Mulder,” he replies.

“Alright, Mulder, would you like to join us?” Missy asks, and Dana shoots her a look.

“Um, yeah, I can hang out for a minute,” he replies cautiously, pulling up a chair between the two of theirs.

“So, how do you and Dana know each other?” she asks, and Dana isn’t sure if she’s asking because she realizes who he is, or because she doesn’t.

“We work together, technically speaking. I’m a criminal behavioral analyst in the Behavioral Science Unit.” Missy gives Dana a look that tells her it was the latter. “What are you two up to today?” he asks, running his palm over a stubbled cheek. She can hear the scratch of the short hairs against his skin and it sets off a tingle at the back of her neck.

“We were just doing some wedding dress shopping,” Missy offers, watching his reaction closely.

“Ah,” he says, only moderately concealing his dissatisfaction, “sounds like a good time.” His tone is dry and not at all genuine. “So, Scully,” he says, directing his words to Dana, “Priscilla was wondering if you could stop by next weekend. She has something to show you.”

She smiles coyly. “Does she? Not a hairball, I hope?”

Mulder chuckles. “No, it’s a file, actually. Her personal favorite, she’d love to share it with you.”

“I think I might be free on Saturday,” she replies, “I just need to check, um…”

“Check with Ethan, right,” he finishes, his smile fading a bit.

“Right,” she confirms, her own smile quickly extinguishing.

Mulder stands. “I’ll email you, to confirm.” He turns to Missy, “It was nice to meet you, Melissa.”

Missy beams at him. “Likewise.”

Mulder turns to Scully and gives her a longing glance, then leaves. They watch him go, waiting until the door has closed behind him to speak.

Missy slaps Dana’s arm. “Oh. My. GOD, Sis!” she exclaims with wide eyes and an open mouth.

“What?” Dana returns.

“Spark? That is a goddamn bonfire. Even I could feel it,” she says with a look of wonder.

Dana gives her a pained expression then drops her head into her hands with a groan.

“Why does he call you Scully? And who the hell is Priscilla?” Missy adds.

Dana lifts her head, looking at her sister regretfully with a shrug.

“He said I don’t look like a Dana. Priscilla is his cat.”

Missy closes her eyes for a moment and gently shakes her head, her eyebrows furrowing like she’s trying to reconcile all this information in her brain.

“Whoa, so you’ve been to his place?” Missy asks incredulously.

Dana nods hesitantly.

“Sis, what are you doing? If you were to tell me that you’re going to break it off with Ethan and run away with that beautiful man I would honestly support you. But if you’re trying to keep things on the up and up here, a private rendezvous at his apartment seems like a really bad idea.” Missy is deeply confused, not used to being in the position to tell her sister what decisions are unwise. That is typically Dana’s role in their relationship.

Dana glares at her sister defensively. “We’re just friends, Missy. Men and women can be just friends.”

Missy shoots her a ‘do you think I was born yesterday?’ look.

“Sure they can, if they aren’t insanely attracted to each other. That man practically devoured you with his eyes, Dana. He wants to be more than your friend,” she says emphatically.

“Well, he’s not going to be. I’m with Ethan. And I’m an adult who can control myself enough to maintain boundaries with a platonic friend who happens to be an attractive man. I’m not a Neanderthal, Missy.” She’s using her professor voice, presenting the topic with supporting evidence. Only the facts, folks.

“Okay,” Missy says, acquiescing. “If you trust yourself then great, have fun with your friend. Does Ethan know you’re gallivanting around with a sexy behavioral analyst?”

The guilty look that overtakes Dana’s face is answer enough.

“Well,” Missy continues, “just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” she brings levity back to the conversation with a little smirk.

“That leaves me with a lot of options, Missy,” Dana retorts, and Missy slaps her arm again.

[642stories]

Story #7 "David Duchovny"

What can you do in three minutes? In three minutes, you can boil water for tea or eat a banana. You can make a phone call, brush your teeth, or take an extremely quick shower. If you are on the subway, you can hop on the train and travel to the next not-so-far station. Three minutes seem to be just enough. Three minutes might take forever if you’re waiting for an answer from a girl you finally summoned up the courage to ask out. If you’re a defendant in a court waiting for the jury to reach a verdict, three minutes might drag on agonizingly slow. One hundred and eighty seconds of tickling as if a bomb is about to set off. All-in-your-head ticking.

However, if you talk to someone like David Duchovny, a person you were dreaming of having a conversation with, three minutes pass in the blink of an eye. Literally. You blink and then it’s over. David says that they are counting on us, and it is nice to see you again and then he’s gone. You are left with a mixture of euphoria and disappointment but unable to process it at the moment. It’s four in the morning and though you are so tired you cannot see straight, sleep is elusive. Your emotions are too raw to let go and grab so well-needed rest. So instead, you do some writing, keeping in mind what David has just told you - it’s all about discipline. And you write till letters start jumping on the screen and everything gets blurry. And then you brew some more coffee. A real thing. Not that decaffeinated crap you bought on a whim convincing yourself that this is what mindful people do. For they say it’s healthy. Sure. Fine. Whatever.

I got over my Duchovny crush in my early twenties, too busy to lust after anyone but my first-time-ever long-term boyfriend and struggling to major in English and Law simultaneously. Once my puberty was complete, I forgot about “The X-Files”. I didn’t think about David until I turned 33, which was 2018, the year when we moved to Moscow. It was a period of boring days dragging one after another in nothing but taking round-the-clock care of kids. Being acutely aware of my routine existence and suffering from the lack of babysitters, work-related stuff, and English altogether, I tried to fill an expanding void with books and series. I could read up to hundreds of pages a day and binge-watch Netflix every single minute whenever I had free time. It was my sea of tranquillity, and I was literally drowning in it.

I started watching Californication, the series I’d been deliberately neglecting for a little over 10 years (first released in 2007), due to my reluctance to shape Duchovny as anyone else but Fox Mulder. One more year later, I stumbled upon the news, that two more seasons of the X-files had been shot. You are so out of the loop, girl, exactly my thoughts. What are you? Some freak, living off the grid? How could you miss it? For what it’s worth, I loved it.

One day, almost accidentally, driving along the city center, I caught a glimpse of the billboard with his name and the word concert next to it. A concert? What the hell, the guy is an actor! Well, also a novelist now, but what does it have to do with music? Upon my arrival at home, I googled him thoroughly only to be struck by the fact that David indeed was a singer and it wasn’t even his first album. The same day I bought a ticket, including the meet-and-greet session pass, downloaded some of his previous tracks, and just like that, my affection was resurrected.

That first meeting we didn’t really talk. I remember my shy “May I hug you?” and his encouraging coarse “Yeah”. I remember warm strong arms around my shoulders. We took a photo, he sighed whatever it is I had on me to sign. It happened to be a tiny red notebook as nothing else seemed to fit in my lady’s purse. And then, there was an hour of pure bliss as the concert began. He may or may not be a good singer. If truth be told, it’s probably the latter. But he’s full of the heady dark intensity that shakes you to the core and makes the overall experience simply unforgettable. I could only hope that it wouldn’t be the last first time.

But then. Pandemic. It brought several good tidings, albeit being a catastrophe of the world. Virtual interaction is still booming. Back in the day, you either hoped that the flame of your heart would honor your country with a visit, or traveled over the ocean for the slightest chance to get a glimpse of them. Now all you need is broadband and a cell. Well, and some extra bucks on you. Virtual meet and greets, zooming, 1-on-1 calls, livestreams. You can get up to 10 minutes with the celebrity of your choice. At times, you can enter raffles they organize to raise money for charity, and then it’s a chance to win up to half an hour of a private talk. How cool is that?

So, the question posed, is it expensive? You bet. Is it worth it? Every second of it. Will I see him again? Well, I might. But then again, I might not. After all, I’ve already seen him three times. And two out of three I had a chance to talk with him. However, since we’ve already established that it was worth doing, I could only add that anything that is worth doing is worth doing well.

[anders-hawke]

Bridges and Buffers

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

“You fucked up.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Go for it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Missy did, too.”

—

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

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

“No, it’s fine—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

[misslilli]

Hope you guys are not too busy with Fictober 😄 thank you, as always, for your amazing feedback!

Felix Felicis

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

Chapter 26 - A Pivotal Peppermint Mocha

[ DS ]

He respects my wishes, of course he does, and I don’t see him before or after Thanksgiving break, except for a few glimpses from afar, across the school yard or at the farmer’s market. As time passes, each time I see him, it gets less and less painful and my funk begins to lift. My kids at school breathe a sigh of relief and my friends stop tiptoeing around me. The nights get easier, too, and I manage at least a few hours of shut-eye.

I just got home from school, a little earlier than usual and I can hear the girls chatting and laughing in the kitchen.

“…and then Squirrel rolled her eyes and said: ‘But Felix, that’s impossible, no-one can stuff 100 marshmallows into their mouth, not even your dad!’ I get such a kick out of this kid, he insisted over and over again that Moose could do it and he’ll prove it to her. You should’ve seen the exasperated look on Squirrel’s face!”

What the hell? That conversation is eerily familiar because I’ve just had it this morning at recess. Why the fuck are they referring to us as Moose and Squirrel?

They jump about a mile as I step into the kitchen, guilty looks plastered all over their faces. Sarah, who just told the story, starts to speak first. “Uuuh.. hey D, you’re home early…” My hands on my hips, I give them each a long, hard stare.

“Who. The Fuck. Are Moose and Squirrel?” They share a look I can’t decipher and Holly pulls out a chair.

“You better sit down for this, D.” I do as I’m told and glance around the table, waiting for someone to start explaining what’s going on.

Sarah and Holly both make it clear by silently staring at Alex, the calm one of our group, the one they trust can explain in a way I won’t kick their asses afterwards.

Alex folds her hands in front of her and takes a deep breath. “Okay. I’d like to preface this with stating that everything we did was done with love and because we care about you and your happiness.” ‘Oh goody, I can’t wait to see where this is going…’

“We’ve been talking about Moo- Mulder a lot at our Friday night dinners and we could tell that you liked him. When nothing happened and no-one made the first move, we thought we’d give fate little pushes in the right direction.” I stare at her, starting to panic.

“Oh God, what did you do? Is anyone else in on this thing? Is he in on this whole thing?”

“No, no, no-one knows except for us. And Miss Hannigan, but only because we needed her help with the costumes and we swore her to secrecy.” I snort, you can’t swear the town gossip to secrecy.

“So the Halloween costume was your doing? That we went to the town fair in a couple’s costume?” Alex nods. “What else?”

“Just little things, I swear. Remember when we were at the Farmer’s Market and we all had various errands to run? We saw Felix and Mulder were heading over, so we scattered to give you some alone time.” Which led to our first quasi-semi-let’s not call it a date-date, yes I remember.

“So what’s the Moose and Squirrel business then?”

“Well, since it was all a secret operation, we needed codenames. Sarah came up with a play on the first letters of your last names and we thought it was cute, especially since there’s such a big height difference between these characters too. This was how Operation: Bullwinkle was born. Of course, after the basketball fiasco, we called it off… are you mad, D?” I sit in silence for a while, taking in the things my friends came up with to set Mulder and I up.

They eye me anxiously, trying to gauge my reaction and if they should run for cover right about now.

“No, I’m not mad. It was actually a really clever secret operation and I’m kind of sad it didn’t work out the way we all wanted.” Holly lifts her shoulders, relieved that I understood that they didn’t mean to cause any harm.

“Never say never, D.”

—————

[ FM ]

My mom has taken Felix with her while she’s out grocery shopping, which gives me a good part of the afternoon to leave the house and roam the streets. A good way to clear my head. It’s the first week of December, but New England hasn’t been graced with snow yet, just a misty cold that seeps into your coat and straight through to your bones.

My hands are freezing because I forgot to take my gloves, so when the green logo of the local Starbucks catches my eye, I go in to warm up and get a cup of coffee.

Usually, I avoid this place like the plague, I don’t possess the fast decision making skills required to choose from the 999 combinations, just to have a cup of freakishly overpriced coffee.

I can barely get through the door, the place is jam packed and soon, I can smell why. Peppermint Mocha season starts today. The prospect of standing in line for hours almost makes me turn back, but something stops me from leaving.

Most of the people are holding a cup in their hands gleefully already, so I push my way through the crowd to where the line starts. When I reach it, I find myself dumbly staring at the back of a fiery head of hair, a shade I’d recognize anywhere in the world and in the most crowded places.

Shi-hit, does this break the ‘giving space’ rule? No, I’m just getting a cup of coffee on a cold winter day, no big deal. I don’t even have to talk to her. Yeah right, who am I kidding?

—————

[ DS ]

I’m way too excited about the start of Peppermint Mocha season, so here I am, in a place packed with people, patiently waiting in line to finally get my hands on that glorious to-go cup of Christmas Spirit.

I’m next in line when the person in front of me turns a little too quickly, making me take a step backwards to let them pass, bumping into the person standing behind. I mumble a “I’m sorry!” over my shoulder and freeze when I hear a familiar voice respond with an “Don’t worry about it.”

Counting to ten in my head before I turn my head, I come to face with a grinning Fox Mulder, who adds “Fancy bumping into you here!” His silly pun elicits the first genuine smile I’ve given in weeks.

“Technically, you didn’t bump into me, I bumped into you.”

He grins even wider and nudges my shoulder with his index finger. “There. So, I’m new in town, what’s good here?”

I order my Peppermint Mocha with sweet cream foam and an extra espresso shot while he pretends to gag, he orders his black coffee to my snort and the barista’s comment on what kind of first name ‘Mulder’ is. We move to stand at the end of the counter to wait for our coffees.

“Sometimes, I just want to tell them my name is Bob, just so I don’t have to explain Mulder or Fox to another barista.”

“Don’t ask me how many time’s I’ve been Donna, Danny or Dinara and one time, Daniel. I think they do it on purpose. At least yours is easy to spell, Eff - Oh - Ex.”

“Oh I bet you were a regular hit at the spelling bee, with those mad skills of yours!”

“I’m a woman of many talents, Bob.”

The barista calls out our names, ‘Peppermint Mocha for Daisy, black coffee for Mouldy’ and we reach out to accept our respective cups. Pushing out way to the crowd, we continue our conversation.

“Daisy? That's not even remotely close to my real name… but Mouldy is freaking priceless!” Her giggle at their slip up almost makes it worth it to have a shitty first name.

“Yeah, yeah, make fun of the guy with the funny name. I kind of like Daisy, though, it’s a pretty name!”

I’m so happy to see that we turn to head in the same direction, strolling along the crowded sidewalk, sipping our coffee. I have to walk pretty fast to keep up with his long strides.

“It is, yeah! So tell me, Eff- Oh- Ex, how much flak did you have to take way back in the day, when “What does the Fox say?” came out?” I shudder at the memory.

“They didn’t tease me with it. Much. Just a lot of ring-ding-dingalinging. It became a thing in my friend group, whenever they asked me something, they’d add ‘So what does the Fox say?’. It went on a long time and they still do it sometimes, when we get together, just to drive me nuts!”

“I hope for your sake that Felix never discovers that song, he’d have a field day!” Oh God, she’s right. Must keep him away from it at all costs. At my panic face, she laughs an evil laugh. “We do listen to a lot of music at recess…”

“Oh no, you wouldn’t!” I point an icy finger at her. “Promise me you wouldn’t!”

“Well, it does have a lot of educational material in it, with all the animal sounds…”

“I’ll have you know that you hold my sanity in your hands, handle with care!”

“I hear they have a lot of fun pills at the asylum, maybe I’ll come visit so you can sneak me some!”

We come to stand at the junction where we have to part ways and she raises her cup.

“Have a good day, Mouldy!”

“You too, Daisy!”

—————

[ DS ]

I think about the strange but fun encounter all the way home, the world didn’t end like I thought it would when we met again and it was a rather pleasant conversation. Like a conversation between long-time friends, even though friendship is not exactly what I’m looking for here. But it’ll have to do, for now. It’s just nice to talk to him again.

[baronessblixen]

Prompt if you are interested: Daggoo trying to get into Scully’s bath a la Stella and Gillian. Mulder can be wherever you want him to be. I want to play with Stella she so cute I literally can’t form coherent thoughts 🥺🥺

I’m still thinking about that video of Stella. So cute. This is revival fic and pure fluff.

Tagging @today-in-fic

Perfection

Peace engulfs her as she steps into the bathtub, the scalding water kissing her bare skin. She sighs as her eyes flutter close. Warm vanilla embraces her as she takes a deep breath. She makes a mental note to thank Mulder again for gifting her this heavenly bath bomb for Christmas. Though she’s thanked him plenty that night and the next morning.

She sinks deeper into the water and the bubbles surrounding her pop gently as if afraid to disturb her peace. Soft classical music sloshes in from the bedroom and she relaxes every muscle in her body.

As exaggerated as the word feels in her mind, this moment, this bath, is perfection.

Long weeks are behind them. While the X-Files have been closed again – sealed tight, Skinner has promised – they’re both still employed by the FBI, both teaching the younger generations. Occasionally, she sees someone with shaggy hair, a gait so like Mulder that she thinks she’s back in 1993, still trying to find her own way. But no matter how hard she imagines it, it’s never Jackson, never their son.

They hear from him sometimes; they get postcards, or on special occasions, a text, or an email. Still, part of her is always searching for him in the halls that shaped her, and Mulder, wondering how things could have gone differently.

But not today.

Today, as Mulder reminded her this morning, is about resting. He might have called it “chilling”, winking at her with that boyish gleam in his eyes that she hopes he’ll never lose, no matter how old he is. And there’s no denying that they’re old now. The thought makes her smile. After all they’ve been through, who could have known they’d get here? To middle age? Mulder has died a dozen times and so has she.

Scully takes a deep breath, holds it, and ducks her head under water, just like she did as a child. Of all the Scully children, she’d always been the one to hold her breath the longest. It made Bill grumble, and her father chuckle. She comes back to the surface, bubbles on her face and in her hair, taking a deep, vanilla-scented breath. A bathtub or the ocean, water has always remained her friend.

Downstairs she hears the door squeak open and little paws run around excitedly. Mulder says something, his voice deep and soothing, but she can’t make out any words. A moment later, she not only hears little dog feet, she sees them, too, when Daggoo barges into the bathroom.

“Hey you,” Scully says as the dog gets on his hind legs to show her his face. His tongue is lolling about and catches a few bubbles, making him lick his nose.

“Daggoo, no,” she says, but she’s laughing, and the dog doesn’t listen. “What are you doing?” The small dog continues to lick at the bubbles and her hand.

“I tried keeping him downstairs.” Mulder walks into the bathroom, running a hand over his face.  

“It’s fine. If he throws up after drinking bathwater, you’ll clean it up.” Mulder signs a promise over his heart before he gets on his knees, gently coaxing Daggoo away from the bathtub. He leans his cheek against the porcelain and glances at Scully.

“Did you two have a good run?” she asks gently, running her fingers through his messy hair, trying to smooth it down. Leaning more into her touch, Mulder nods. “You need a shower,” she says.

“Bathtub is occupied.”

“Hm, I think there’s enough space for both of us in here.”

“You think?” He smiles at her; he knows there is. When they bought the house, they bought a bathtub big enough for the two of them.

“Get naked, G-man.”

“As you wish.”

Scully watches him languidly as he takes off his running clothes. She marvels at his strength, at the play of his muscles; her favorite piece of art.

“Are you watching me?” he asks without even turning to her and she blushes. Almost 30 years by his side, decades of loving each other, and still, he has that effect on her.

“Hurry before the water gets cold,” she says. Finally, he’s gloriously naked and only wearing his most charming smile. She scoots forward, throwing him a look over her shoulder. He gets in behind her and as soon as he’s settled in, she leans back against him. Mulder puts his arms around her, his head on her shoulder.

“I’m not sure this is the best way to get clean,” he admits, whispering into her ear. “I think I’m only getting you sweaty and dirty.”

“I don’t mind,” she says honestly. Feeling forgotten, Daggoo starts whimpering, getting on his hind legs again, trying to get at the bubbles.

“No, Mulder,” Scully says, half turning to him.

“I didn’t do anything!”

“You’re thinking about letting Daggoo in here.”

“Well, he has been running, too, you know.”

“You can give him a bath after.”

“I had different plans for after.” He gently bites into her earlobe. “I doubt he could make the jump anyway.” Daggoo whines again. “Sorry, buddy. The lady of the house says no.” The dog tries one more time, but when Scully gives him a stern look, he accepts defeat.  

“This is nice,” Mulder says, shifting behind her and making waves.

“I’ve been telling you that for years. You never listen.”

“Hmm, I’ll listen from now on,” he says, kissing her cheek. “You taste like vanilla.”

“So do you.” She leans her head against his arm as it rests against the edge of the tub, his soft hair tickling her cheek. She was wrong earlier; this right here, this is perfection.

“I never knew vanilla was my favorite flavor,” he says, awe in his voice. Scully smiles.

[morgana-ren]

Just Business

Summary: You’re a loan shark looking to expand your enterprise to the League of Villains. Lucky for you, Dabi might just be willing to hear you out. As long as you can prove your loyalty to him, that is. 

Rating: E for not everyone. Explicit. Do I release anything else?

Baby’s first Dabi fic. Just testing the waters, folks. I know nothing about this man. Literally nothing.

Money lending is such a nasty business. 

Some poor sap shuffles in nervously shifting his fingers and recites some rehearsed script about why he needs the cash and how he’s good for it, and then you throw him a wad and pretend to make up some important deadline. He thanks you profusely and thumbs through the cash as he leaves, and you’ve still got your heels kicked up on your desk as you tell a goon to keep an eye on him. 

Sometimes their reaction to your ‘charity’ varies, but one thing always stays the same. They can never pay it back. 

Some run. Some try to hide. Some bolt the second the cash hits their fists, boarding the first train out of town. Some genuinely try to do the right thing. The result is the same. 

You track them down. Your boot, their neck. They cry, you extort. 

It’s not about the money. It never is. Wealth is fine and good but no amount of monetary fortune can amount to having another thread in the network web you’re building. You’ll let them off the hook and they’ll spy for you, lie for you, even put their neck on the line because they have no other choice. Info is worth infinitely more than a petty loan, and what you invest in their short sighted schemes is repaid tenfold. 

You knew something was up with the shifty little prick the second he walked in the door. He asked for an exorbitant amount and could never meet your eyes when he told you just what he planned to do with it. It sounded too rehearsed, even for your usual clientele. Almost like someone told him what to say and just how to say it. 

In this business, you learn to call a spade a spade, but even as he sat on his knees with his gaze shifted away from you and practically screaming tells, you felt there was something deeper. A truth buried deep within his lies. Something interesting. Something you wanted to know. 

You give the poor bastard the money. 

Sending a runner to watch his schedule confirms your beliefs. He walks into a dilapidated abandoned building not long after leaving the meeting with your thick wad of cash in hand and leaves with only a few bills, though he looks relieved for his trouble. You have his face, his name, a dossier on his entire life. He’s far too unguarded for someone into something so nefarious. Someone sent this little gnat into your domain and didn’t expect you to follow the thread. They were mistaken. Whoever this man works for, he’s the only lead into something deeper. 

Your little flies swarm the building only to find it empty. No trace of who you had been dealing with, no clues to lead you to the heart of your curiosity. Only dust splayed across concrete and a fire with the ashes still warm. 

All your contacts and all your pull only give you one lead: the League of Villains. 

A down-on-their-luck outfit of outcasts and outlaws. Their leader had been making some big moves with a large financier some months ago, but things turned disastrous and no one had heard a peep since. It doesn’t surprise you to hear they’re rebuilding, but what intrigues you is that they’re making such risky pulls to do it. Borrowing money they clearly cannot pay back from a loan shark with a reputation of ruthlessness. 

It should make you mad, being ripped off and deceived like that. 

It doesn’t. 

If anything, it tickles you. You didn’t even have to put out any feelers and they had loitered into your web. You’d had your eyes on them for some time, curious about their leader and their members. They could prove a worthy investment, if given the chance. You never had an in with them since they never needed your services, but it seems that they hand delivered one in desperation.

It becomes a matter of baiting and trapping. 

You wait and you listen. The debt date approaches and it’s only a matter of time. It doesn’t surprise you when the same man wanders back into your office and hands you a thick stack of bills, more than twice what you had offered him. You most definitely are surprised to find him returning but you accept his offering with a smile, running your finger along the bills to keep up appearances. 

“It seems you find yourself quite wealthy! You simply must tell me how you’ve made such a grand turn around!”

He swallows hard at your compliment, raising a hand to the back of his head and scratching nervously. “Luck, Ma’am. Nothing more. I find myself in fortune and simply wish to repay your great kindness.” 

“Of course.” You smile at him, allowing him to take his leave. Now the real game begins. 

Your little spies follow him as he weaves through the streets into the industrial part of town. He ducks into another decrepit building, closing the door firmly behind him. He emerges a few moments later only to tuck a receipt of payment and a few more bills into his shirt. The pace he has is slower now, more relaxed. He believes he’s free, shaken clean of your webbing and can breathe without fear now. 

How wrong he is. 

The look of terror on his face as you block his exit from the alley almost makes you feel sorry for him. He immediately becomes defensive, backing up several feet despite the absence of your body guards. He’s not afraid of you. He’s afraid of who is watching. 

“What are you doing here? I paid you!” 

“You have.” You acknowledge, bowing your head. “I’m not here for money. I simply ask for information. That’s not so terrible, is it? This doesn’t have to be unpleasant.”

“I don’t know anything!” 

“But of course you do!” You draw closer and he trips over his own feet, falling flat to the alley floor. “That money wasn’t for you, was it? You have no prospects, no family or land or investments of your own. Only a crippling gambling debt, yes? Paying debt doesn’t accumulate currency, so clearly you must have had some grand scheme. I’m very interested in your process.” 

You bend down, venom gathering behind your fangs as you stroke his petrified face with a cool finger. “From one brilliant mind to another. I’ll keep it a secret. I promise.”

“I- Well-” He looks around anxiously, stumbling over words but so close to breaking. It won’t take much on your part to get him to crack. 

Or it wouldn’t have, anyway. 

A bolt of vibrant blue flame speeds toward you from around a corner almost quicker than you can process and it’s only barely that you manage to dodge it by shoving yourself clumsily backward. The unbelievable heat from the blast doesn’t escape you, and you cover your face as the alleyway erupts in fire, engulfing your only lead in flames and incinerating him before you could make a move to save him and whatever it is he had to say. The smell of charred flesh is overwhelming and despite the obvious threat, you can’t help but smile. 

A tall figure walks fearlessly through the inferno, hands in his pockets and seeming almost bored as he kicks over the ashen figure that was human only seconds ago. “I knew we shouldn’t have trusted this idiot.” 

You stay silent, face shielded from the encompassing heat by your palm as he approaches. Inky black hair and a pale body covered in muldering skin, maroon scars stapled together with metal and sheer force of will. His threadbare coat billows around his feet as he trudges down the alleyway toward you. His eyes are a striking shade of blue, focused on you with an empty expression. 

The ends of your hair have singed and your face itches, but it’s nothing compared to the accomplishment you feel. You had a feeling that toying with some strings might bring the cat out to play. 

“So you’re one of the League.” 

You stand up, brushing the dirt off your knees and stabilizing yourself on the wall despite the overwhelming heat. 

“Sure. You’re that babe that lent us the money, right? That was nice of you.” He stops just short of you, arms withdrawing from his pockets and igniting with indigo flame. “Now why don’t you scram? You got your money, what happens from here isn’t your business.”

“Oh, it’s not all business.” You coyly tell him, running him once over with your eyes. “Sometimes it’s just pleasure. Are there other fine, strapping young lads like you in the League or am I just one lucky girl?”

“That depends.” He scoffs, puffing air out of his stapled cheeks. “Do you get any better at prying for information or is this the best you can do?” 

“Oh!” A dramatic gesture and you cross your hands over your heart, already coating your hands in sticky, silken thread. “You wound me!” 

“I’ll wound you a hell of a lot worse if you don’t get out of here.” His fist clenches, and a burst of ever increasing heat emanates from the fire engulfing his hand. “Last I checked, fire still kills spiders.” 

“You’d burn down your own home to kill a single little spider? I’m flattered.” 

Before he can retort, you kick one of your feet out behind you, jumping toward him and latching your legs around his midsection. Your hands are quick to wrap around his own as he tumbles to the ground, burning through the layers of webbing drooling from your fingers. The viscous cobweb coats his palms and successfully extinguishes his flames, if only for a moment. It won’t be long, but hopefully it will give you the time you need. You slather the mixture onto the ground next to his head, immobilizing his arms and trapping him beneath you. 

He looks panicked for a moment, trying desperately to activate his quirk, but it can’t get the air his fire needs to breathe through your gossamer web. You keep steady on his bucking hips, as chuckling he tries to pry his hands free of your thick, durable weave. Once he realizes it’s not going to happen and you haven’t killed him yet, he seems to relax, if only slightly. 

“So, it’s not just a nickname.” He muses, teal eyes focused on your fangs through your grinning lips. “You know, I kill spiders when they’re in my house.” 

You throw him a faux pout, grabbing his jaw with your middle finger and thumb and holding him steady as you inspect the staples that line his jaw. “You’re so cruel. I’m just trying to protect my web. You can’t truly blame me, can you? You’d do the same.” 

His hips thrash again and this time you don’t hold back the little moan it coaxes from you, His pupils dilate and for a brief second he seems frozen. At least before a smarmy smirk tugs at his upper lip. “You got your money, doll. I’m starting to think this isn’t business after all.”

“Maybe it’s not.” You lean down, running your tongue across the textured expanse of his neck and stifling a giggle when he stiffens. “Maybe I see potential in your little group and I want in.” 

“That’s nice of you.” He juts his face toward you only for you to pull back. “But it’s really not up to me.” 

You withdraw your hand from his jaw and run it down his chest instead, fingertips slowly stimulating the rough, scarred skin beneath his neck. “Then who is it up to?” 

“That would be the boss.” He grins, one hand breaking free of your web and immediately finding purchase in your hair. You go to grab his wrist but he tuts you, threatening you with a familiar warmth on your scalp. Long, skinny fingers coil around your roots and yank your head back, and eventually his other hand breaks free, coming up to grip at your waist. “And he’s going to want nothing to do with you.” 

He pulls you down closer to him, the moist heat from his breath collecting on the side of your neck as he keeps you steady on top of him. You can feel him hardening between your legs and you can’t help but wiggle your hips to bolster the sensation. 

“What do I need to do, then?” 

“I’d be willing to put in a good word for you,” The hand on your waist slides down to grip your ass, clenching the fatty skin and slowly moving you back and forth atop his hips. “If you’re okay with working for it.” 

“You’d be so generous, yeah?” You gyrate your lower body against him, feeling the head of his cock poking your clit through his rough jeans. 

“You’d be surprised what I’ll do if you make it worth it.”

“I guess I have no choice then.” Your tongue runs over the point of your fangs, swallowing back all the venom you’d had so ready. Sometimes it’s easier to catch flies with honey than vinegar, and you had the sweetest honey of all right between your thighs. 

“Say the word and I’ll let you walk away, babe.” His fingers loosen their hold on your body but don’t relinquish entirely. “But if you don’t, I’m going to need you to prove your loyalty.”

You push his body down with your chest until the back of his head meets the gravel, allowing him to keep his hold on you. “I’m very loyal.” 

Your tits squish against his pecs and he sneaks a less than inconspicuous peak at them, cock throbbing against your apex. “Prove it.”

You don’t need any further prompting. He almost protests as you shake his hand free and scoot back farther down his legs, at least until he realizes what you’re doing. Your deft fingers work at the buttons of his jeans, yanking them down to his thighs before resituating yourself and working on your own buttons, pulling at them painfully slowly. Once you’ve both exposed yourself to the open air, you can’t help but look at his cock, thick and bobbing against his stomach. It’s one of the only parts of him that isn’t scarred and latched with metal, but the weeping tip looks so inviting. Every bone in your body wants to take him in your mouth and make him see God through sheer force of tongue, but you’ve got a job to do and there’s no time for play. Not this time anyway. 

You sit up on your knees until he’s aligned with your hole, sinking down just enough to tease him with your tightness. He groans, trying to pull you down further, but you’re not having it. You arch your back, keeping your knees steady and allowing only the very tip of his cock to enter you. 

“Fuck- hurry it up, would you?” 

You grab his hands and push them down by his head again, sinking down on him as slow as you possibly can. His eyes roll back in his head, and he hisses all manner of curses as you situate him nice and snug between your suffocating walls. The head of his cock prods at your cervix as you sit on top of him but the fullness stuffed between your thighs forces a breathy moan from you. 

He gives you no time to adjust to his girth, pumping his hips up into you as you’re still catching your breath. “Shit! You’re pretty fuckin tight, babe!” A shiver rolls down his back as his hands move to your hips and try to force you harder up and down against him

“So impatient.” You croon, licking up his neck again before sinking your fangs deep into the rough tissue. 

“Fuck!” 

He’s almost ready to shove you off of him before you start rolling your hips, letting his cock burrow deep into your silken cunt again and again, running your tongue along the column of his throat and nipping softly to gain his trust. You’re not trying to poison him, not now. Your job right now is to gift him pleasure, and so you will. 

“Risky-” He huffs in your ear, one hand smacking down hard enough on your ass that you yelp. “Toying with me like that. I can guess what those fangs can do.” 

“If only you knew everything.” You sigh, letting his hands go in favor of pulling back, your palms finding his knees behind you as your back arches and puts your tits on display for him. 

He can’t resist. The only thing separating him from your chest is a flimsy shirt which he quickly disposes of, heating his fingers enough that the fabric begins to shred before he swiftly pulls it apart. He quickly takes advantage of the fact that your milky tits are within reaching distance, latching on to a nipple and sucking almost painfully. 

A high pitched keen escapes your throat as he puffs and hollows his cheeks, slobbering on your chest with one hand on the crook of your shoulder to keep you anchored close. His cock pummels your insides, pelvis stimulating your clit as you ride him. You’re clinging to control but you can feel it slipping with every sloppy lick of his tongue and every brutal thrust of his hips. His heaving becomes more and more erratic, moist breath practically burning your chest on the odd second he pulls away to watch your face. Your eyes close and you lose yourself in the euphoria of his cock, letting him hit you deep and hard just where you need it. Eventually, he releases your nipple from his mouth and you figure you’re both about to cum. 

That comes to a screeching halt when he slows his pistoning, grabbing your waist with both hands and keeping you from riding him either. 

“What the hell!” You whine, trying and failing to chase your rapidly disappearing orgasm. 

“Dabi.” He hisses, bringing a hand up and kneading your breast with fingers that are too hot to handle, squeezing your nipple and sending another jolt of hot pleasure between your legs. 

“What?” 

Your teeth are clenching, active frustration boiling in your gut. You were so close. Somehow he knows, but he knocks you off of him, watching with mirthful eyes as you land on your butt beside him. Instead of mocking you, he sits up and quickly pulls off his coat, throwing to the ground behind him and spreading it around haphazardly. Before you have time to question, he lurches forward, grabbing you by the throat and throwing you down onto the fabric beneath him. 

“I wanna hear you say it.” He says, maneuvering your legs open and placing his thick cock back at your drooling cunt. “When you cum on my dick, I wanna hear you say my name.” 

He refuses to move until you acknowledge him, so you do. 

“P-please? Dabi?” 

“Good girl” He purrs, plunging inside you again so fast you hardly have time to recover. The hand around your neck heats and you scream, at least until a pair of charred lips forces themselves against your open ones. He pounds into you with renewed energy, slamming with a force that jerks your head back with every thrust. The hand that isn’t firmly clasped around your throat finds its way between your legs and rubs in tight, calculated circles. His slick tongue worms into your throat, licking the front of your teeth.

“You’re cute-” he huffs into your open mouth. “I might keep you around. You’re more useful to me as a whore than a loan shark. Is that what you want, doll? To take my loads in your warm little holes? I’ll take real good care of you.”

You want to tell him no. You have a business, a mission. But as he drills deeper inside you, you’re so close to saying whatever he wants so long as he doesn’t stop. The electric warmth between your thighs is rapidly building, coiling up and ready to burst and you’ll say whatever he wants as long as he keeps fucking you. 

Some part of him must sense this, because he pulls away from your throat, weaving his fingers up through the crown of your head again and pulling you up to face him. His eyes are glazed, sweat dripping down his temple and he huffs breath through his nostrils that’s practically steam at this point. 

“Beg me to cum.” 

“Please-” 

His fingers work against your clit but just enough to keep the pleasure from fading. You need it faster. You need it harder.

“More!” 

He hums and licks up your lips, slipping his tongue between your teeth again for a brief second. “What’s the magic word?” 

The fingers on your pussy heat slightly as he applies more pressure, watching you through heavily lidded eyes as you writhe and squirm. 

“D-Dabi!” 

“Such a good girl. Say ‘Dabi please let me cum!”

It’s degrading and filthy but fuck you want it. Plus, remember, this is just business. Right?

“Dabi! P-Please let me cum on your cock! Please! I-I need-!” 

He bites down on your bottom lip before the words can leave your swollen tongue. Your body wiggles restlessly as you wait for him to give you what he promised. 

“Good girls get rewards.” 

His hips pull back and shove almost impossibly deep inside, forcing a loud cry from you before he slams mouth down onto yours. His fingers work overtime on your engorged clit, utilizing the wetness seeping from your hole as his cock thrusts in and out. His tongue worms past your lips again and explores every inch he can reach, chuckling as you moan shamelessly into his mouth. 

Though he starts off with a precise rhythm, it quickly becomes erratic as he chases his own pleasure while delivering yours. The hand at your apex is working overtime and the one in your hair is warm enough that you’d likely be a bit worried if you had the mental capacity. He uses both of them to maneuver you to his precise liking, fucking into you like you’re a pliable little doll built solely for his pleasure. 

He’s mumbling incoherently, breathing hot and heavy against your cheek. Your needy moans and whimpers only drive him to move faster and harder as your own hips work double time to meet his powerful pulsating. If you weren’t the one making the noises, you never would have believed it was you. 

“Fuck- shit! Gunna cum nice and deep in your pretty little cunt! Gunna make sure you’re dripping for days-“ He cuts off partway through to let out a heafy groan as you clench your muscles tighter to milk him. “God, so fucking tight-“

Your orgasm is approaching quickly, pain from his bony hips digging into the fleshy fat of your thighs barely a whisper compared to the white hot pressure building at the base of your spine. You can feel his cock twitch against your cervix with every punch against it and you know he’s close too. 

You dig your nails in, fingers clamped against his shoulders and using his movements to build your own momentum. The cacophony of moans between you two becomes louder and more unhinged, him whispering depraved fantasies in your ear that only drive you further to completion. Your head falls back down to the ground as you lose the ability to keep it up any longer, cord finally snapping and unraveling as he throws you over the edge. 

You practically scream as he continues fucking you through your orgasm, legs constricting ever tighter around his narrow hips as you push yourself up harder to chase every ounce of sensation he has to offer you. Stars dance behind your shut eyes and your entire body buzzes with prickling bliss that radiates from your core. You can’t feel the pain in your knees from the asphalt before he flipped you or the localized ache from him ripping at your hair; only the overwhelming, pulsing euphoria as he continues to hit that sweet, spongy spot deep inside you as you ride out your peak. 

His animalistic grunts turn even more primal as your walls flutter around his thick cock, clenching and pulsing around him until he can’t hold back the tide of cresting pleasure anymore. Hot cum floods your insides, so warm you swear it nearly burns you. He continues pumping as it begins to leak from inside you, obscene squelching echoing from the point of entry. He turns his head, finding the crook of your neck and biting down hard enough you cry out, marking you one last time as he continues to stroke himself with your cunt until every last drop has been drained. 

His cock throbs for a moment before slowly softening inside you as he tries to see straight. You’ve yet to open your eyes, only twitching in overstimulation as he withdraws his hand from between your slippery thighs. He allows you to catch your breath for a moment before lightly pushing himself up off of you, careful not to hurt you. 

You slowly regain the ability to move your body and rollout from underneath him, wobbling legs dropping you back onto the cement instead of allowing you to stand when you try. It’s a struggle to pull up your pants since your legs have decided they no longer want to work, but somehow you manage to get them pulled up and buttoned, Dabi’s cum seeping from between your thighs and staining onto the fabric. Dabi himself hoists himself to his feet, using the wall as support. He’s trying desperately to seem unaffected but you don’t miss the falter of his legs like a newborn fawn when he first rises to his feet. 

“Thanks doll, that was fun.” He somehow manages to bend over and grab his coat from the floor, snaking his arms through the armholes and readjusting it over his chest. “I think I’ll be in touch.”

You raise your head, cocking an eyebrow at him. “You think?”

“I dunno.” He shrugs, beginning his walk back down the alleyway where he came from. He turns to look at you one last time, sly grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “I might need some more convincing.” 

[mldrgrl]

Broken Things 12/24

by: mldrgrl Rating: varies by chapter, rated R overall See Chapter 1 for summary and notes

Fort Worth is not the city that Boston is, but it’s working it’s way up.  It’s bustling and busy and the first time he’d taken Jesse and Jimmy with him, Mulder had feared he may lose the brothers to the excitement of it all.  He was pleased to find out the pair were more like him and preferred a slower pace and less crowds.  He doesn’t have to worry about them gambling or picking fights or looking for any other kind of trouble.

The demonstration they give and the training they provide to the postal service is a success.  The horses are installed in their new home and position as a delivery team and Mulder will be bringing eight horses back to the ranch to train as a set of two teams.  He celebrates the job well done by giving Jesse and Jimmy an early bonus and sending the two off to do some sightseeing.  Deciding he’d like to do a bit of shopping himself, he sets out from their hotel to the city center.

For the last few weeks, Mulder has been making a mental list of the things he’d like to get for Katherine.  He doesn’t care if she protests, he has a mind to spoil her, and she’ll just have to get accustomed to being spoiled.  His first stop is a book shop where he inquires after the most current science journals and texts.  While browsing the bookshelves, he also finds a copy of The Taming of the Shrew and purchases it for a laugh.

The next stop he makes is to a rather impressive three-story building called The Martin-Brown Co.  It advertises clothing, dry goods, and other notions, which is exactly what he’s after.  He buys ten yards of a wool fabric dyed a shade of blue that reminds him of her eyes, two pairs of boots using a template he secretly traced of Katherine’s shoes for size, several pairs of stockings, a new shawl, an overcoat, and the valise he promised.  Everything is to be wrapped and sent to his hotel.

The last stop he makes is to a jeweler.  He would give Katherine his mother’s ring, were it not for the fact that it currently resides in a safe deposit box in Boston.  Even if it were in his possession, he has a feeling that Katherine would consider it too lavish and perhaps she would be right.  Though beautifully made with several square-cut diamonds, a working ranch would not be the best place to wear such a ring.

He wants to get something to symbolize the marriage though, not just for her, but for himself.  A simple gold band is easy enough to find for his own finger, but it’s tougher to pick just the right ring for his wife.  A very nice salesman assists him in trying to find the perfect piece.

“I want it to be nice,” he tells the associate.  “She’d probably like something plain, but I still think it should at least have a stone in it.  I also don’t want her to fret over it getting in the way of the household chores.”

“I think I can help you with that,” the man says.  He pulls out a tray of nice-looking bands, diamonds of various shapes and sizes twinkling from all of them, but still none of them seem quite right.

He looks through four trays of rings and has it narrowed between a gold band with a row of very small diamonds and pearls or a silver band with three one carat diamonds, when another ring catches his eye.

“What’s that stone?” he asks the clerk.

“That’s a sapphire.  Would you like to see it?”

“Yes.”

The man takes the ring of the tray and hands it to Mulder.  He inspects it carefully.  It’s a gold band with three stones inset in a row of small squares, like patchwork almost.  The middle stone is the sapphire, flanked on either side by two diamonds.  

“What do you call this design?” Mulder asks.

“In the middle where the sapphire sits is called a pinched square mount.  On either side of that is what’s called a diamond mount on a geometric plaque.  On the shoulder here you’ll see there’s criss-cross etching.”

“I think this might be the one.”

“An excellent choice.”

“Let me just...let me just look at them one last time and give me a minute to consider.”

“Take your time, Sir.”

Mulder puts the ring down and looks over the trays again, focusing on the three main contenders.  He has doubts about the three diamonds and so just looks to the sapphire and the diamonds and pearls.

“What is this?” he asks, pointing to a different ring that he seems to have missed in his earlier inspection, focused as he was on finding the perfect stone.  “Are those hands?  Holding a heart?”

“Yes, Sir.  It’s a claddagh ring.  It’s Irish.”

“Irish?”

“Yes, I can’t say I know the origins, but you’ll note the inside is stamped with what this type of ring is meant to symbolize.”

Mulder turns the ring around to read the inscription.  “Love.  Friendship.  Loyalty.”

“We have this one as well, if that doesn’t suit you.”  The clerk pulls out yet another tray and the same design of the ring Mulder is holding is etched into the interior of the band with loops around the band that look like infinity rings.

Mulder is torn.  He’s leaning towards the sapphire because the stone is gorgeous, but this claddagh ring seems more suitable, even if it’s not as elegant or flashy.  He’s not the one that will be wearing the ring though, Katherine is.  And he tries to think about it from her perspective.  He could probably buy three or four of these claddagh rings for the same price as the sapphire, but the value of the simpler ring feels immeasurably greater.

“That’s the one I want,” Mulder tells the clerk, nodding to the etched silver claddagh ring the man is holding.

“Very well.”

“And the gold band as well.  What type of boxes do you have?”

“Right this way.”

Mulder follows the clerk to the other side of the store where there is a case of boxes on display.  He selects a black box, oval-shaped, made of leather.  There’s a small gold latch at the front and a gilded border on the top of the case.  The interior is standard velvet and satin.

After Mulder leaves the jewelry store he heads back to the hotel.  The desk clerk informs him his packages have arrived and been taken to his room.  He closes himself in the room and looks at the items that are neatly placed onto his bed.  He takes the ring box out of his pocket and opens it up to look at it.

Diana comes to mind.  All these items he’s purchased would seem paltry to her.  He was always happy to lavish her back when they were courting, but she was never satisfied.  There was no such thing as too much for Diana and nothing was ever good enough.  Katherine is different and he needs to remember that.  He fears that Katherine will see all of this and be cross with him.  The perfect simplicity of the ring in his hand makes him realize that there is more to loving someone than purchasing trinkets.

Money is no object to him.  The ranch does well, but it’s not the source of his income, it’s the source of his joy and passion.  He doesn’t know with absolute certainty, but from what he does know of her, he feels that Katherine gets her joy from learning new things and from stimulating conversation.  Out of all the items packaged up on his bed, what she will probably be the most grateful for are the four issues of a magazine called Science: An Illustrated Journal and one called The Popular Science Monthly.

The ring and the books aside, he tells himself that the items he’s purchased are practical.  He hasn’t gotten anything she can’t use and what wouldn’t be considered unnecessary, but that’s not really the point.  

Well, he isn’t going to take the items back, so he packs each one up into the new valise and thinks that maybe it’s a good thing that at the very least, everything fits nicely into the travel bag.  He keeps her ring in his pocket though, along with the little pouch that holds his band.  He doesn’t want to wear his quite yet.  Not until she can put it on his finger for him.

↭

Katherine is setting out items onto the table in the kitchen to make a pie.  Mulder and Jesse and Jimmy are due back the next day and she’d like to have something nice to welcome them home with.  She’s just sat down to start peeling apples when she hears Queenie bark.

Over the last month, she’s grown accustomed to the sounds of the ranch, and in particular, the way that Queenie herds her flock of sheep.  Her bark is usually quick and no-nonsense.  This bark that she hears now raises the hairs at the back of her neck.  This bark is more like a snarl.  A warning.

Katherine jumps up from the table and hurries to the back door.  She sees Queenie by the pens, crouched low and backing away from something slowly.  The dog growls and snaps as she lunges forward and then retreats again.  Initially, Katherine can’t spot the threat, but then she sees it, black as midnight and sleek, slinking around the side of the corner pen with caution, but without hesitation.  She’s heard there were panthers in these parts, but never seen one.

Melvin is running from the bunkhouse, waving his arms and hollering.  Richard is behind him with a pistol.  She doesn’t spot Trevor, but now is the time that he’s usually watering the animals so he must be out there somewhere, trapped where he is.

“My God,” Katherine whispers before turning and running to the other side of the dogtrot.

There are four rifles hung on pegs in the middle of the wall and a cartridge belt hanging alongside them.  Mulder had told her before not to touch the firearms.  They’re always loaded, he’d said, just in case.  Leave them be.  Of course, he probably assumed she had no idea how to use one.  She grabs the cartridge belt and swings it over her left shoulder and then pulls down one of the rifles and holds it crosswise against her stomach and pointed to the ground as she runs back to the door, cocking the lever as she goes.

Without much thought beyond eliminating the threat, Katherine stands positioned in the doorway, a good fifty to sixty yards from the pens.  Melvin is whistling and hooting, trying to get the enormous cat’s attention.  All the animals are agitated.  The goats and sheep are bleating and the hogs are grunting.  The chicks are fluttering in the coop and clucking like crazy.

“Stay back!” Melvin yells at her.

“Don’t move,” she yells back, raising the butt of the rifle to her shoulder.  She cocks her head and closes her right eye, lining the cat up in her sights.  She’s not in a good position to shoot to kill, but she can definitely incapacitate if she aims right.

She has to do it quick.  The panther is stalking Queenie quietly, not at all threatened by the barking dog.  It’s not close enough to lunge, but it’s getting there.  “God, help me,” Katherine mutters, and then cocks the hammer and squeezes the trigger.  The recoil causes the butt to slam into her shoulder, as anticipated.  She winces, but doesn’t take her eyes off the panther.  It screams seconds after the discharge, baring its teeth as one of its front arms collapses.  She hit it in the shoulder, just as she’d aimed to.

There’s no time to waste.  She reaches up and grabs a cartridge off the belt over her shoulder and shoves it into the ejection port.  It’s cocked and reloaded in under ten seconds, but it feels like eternity.  The panther is now on the defensive, limping backwards and screeching as Queenie barks and takes small lunges towards it.  A frothy and red saliva starts to drip from its mouth.

Katherine keeps the rifle at her shoulder and the panther in her sights as she steps sideways to get behind Queenie.  She prays as she moves that the dog keeps its distance and she prays that the panther doesn’t charge forward with a surge of adrenaline.  Worst case scenario, she shoots the dog before the panther.  Best case scenario, she only has to kill one living creature today.

Queenie snaps viscously at the injured panther and it hisses in response.  As it raises its head and bares its teeth, Katherine fires once more, hitting it in the jugular.  The panther goes down without a whimper.  Queenie is still barking and snapping as Katherine lowers the gun.  She walks to the dog and pulls her back by the scruff to hold her in place.

Melvin comes running.  He’s puffing and sweating by the time he reaches her and grabs hold of Queenie as well as the dog twists and yelps to be set free.  Richard walks to the panther and crouches low over it, inspecting it from all angles.

“Where’s Trevor?” Katherine asks.

“I ain’t seen him.”

“Trevor!” Katherine calls.

“Go on,” Melvin says.  “I got Queenie.”

Katherine stands and scans the pens.  The animals are still agitated, running to and fro and loudly voicing their anxiety.  She spots Trevor crouched low behind the hog trough, trembling.  She sets the rifle up against the fence and climbs over into the hog pen and kneels down beside Trevor.  It’s obvious he’s wet himself and she puts a hand on his back to soothe him.

“It’s alright,” she tells him.  “It’s over.”

“I didn’t know what to do,” he tells her.  His voice is shaking right along with the rest of him.

“You did exactly as you were supposed to do, you kept yourself safe.”

“I saw him come down from that hill back yonder and I tried hollerin’, but nothing came out.  And then Queenie started kicking up a fuss and all I could think was that I got to hide.”

“You did good, Trevor.  Queenie’s worked up, but she’s alright.  Who knows what that panther would’ve done if it had spotted you.”

“You shot ‘em.”

“Yes, I did.”

“Where’d you learn to shoot like that?”

“My father taught me, when I was small.”

“I ain’t ever had a father.”

“I know, sweetheart.”

“You wasn’t scared?”

“I was terribly scared.”

“But, you didn’t look scared.”

“I had the advantage of being near to the rifles, knowing they were loaded, and knowing how to shoot.  If I had been in your position, I would have done exactly as you did.”

“My hands don’t want to seem to quit shakin’.”

“That’s alright, it’ll stop soon enough.  Let’s get you up and you run on to the bunkhouse and clean yourself up, alright?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“You bring your clothes on over to the laundry basket when you’re done and I’ll get a load done tonight.”

“Sorry to be so much trouble.”

“No trouble at all, sweetheart.”

Katherine helps Trevor stand and keeps a hand on his back.  He’s taller than her by about half a foot, but he seems small in this moment.  He is careful climbing the fence, still weak with fear.  She climbs over after him and takes up the rifle.  The cartridge belt is laying in the dirt.  She hadn’t noticed it had slipped from her shoulder.  She picks that up as well and waits until Trevor has started to weave his way to the bunkhouse to go over to where Melvin and Richard are hovering over the dead panther.

“I put Queenie up in the barn and give her some hamburger,” Melvin says.  “She’ll calm herself in due time.”

“When this story gets told,” Katherine says, trying to sound as serious and authoritative as she can.  “I’d like you to please do me a favor and make it very clear that Trevor was trapped where he was.  I know how boys are and the last thing Trevor needs is to be shamed for being afraid of a panther.”

“I’ll see to it,” Melvin says.

“We best get rid of the carcass before any scavengers come sniffing around,” Richard says.

“I’m going to see about the pie I was fixing.”  She turns to walk away and then stops.  “I take no pride or glory in killing that panther.  I did what had to be done.”

“You done good,” Melvin tells her.  

Katherine nods and returns to the house.  She dusts off the cartridge belt and hangs it back on the nail beside the rifles.  She loads a cartridge into the chamber, leaves it half-cocked, and puts it back in its place.