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phillippadgettwrites · 2 years ago

Note

Can you write Mulder having sex with someone else after the ep NA and Scully finds out?

Someone Else

Rated X \ 1069 words \ Posted on AO3

His fist is pumping furiously fast, the friction so rough it’s almost painful, but he doesn’t let up.

He can’t stop thinking about all the details that weren’t in the police report. Did he initiate, or did she? Did they get straight to fucking, or was there foreplay? Did she let him touch her breasts, eat her pussy? Did they use a condom, or did she let him come inside her? Somehow, the most painful part to imagine is them kissing, Jerse’s hand cradling her neck while he tastes the inside of her mouth. That perfect little mouth that lectures him and scolds him, that escorts her annoyed sighs from her lungs to his ears, that contorts with her efforts to hide the smiles that he coaxes out of her.

He groans in agonized frustration, cupping his other hand around his balls and squeezing lightly. He was such a colossal asshole to her today, and even as he was doing it he knew why. Jealousy. Once he confirmed that she was safe, it hit him like a sneaker wave. Why not me?

He’d been overwhelmed with the urge to go out and fuck the first woman who would give him the time of day, but the idea of Scully somehow finding out made him feel sick. So instead he came home, grabbed a bottle of Jergens, and is currently, unsuccessfully, trying to get it out of his system.

He’s always imagined that she’d like it a little rough, that she’d want him to take control. Push her up against the wall or bend her over the side of the bed, run his fingers through her hair and tug on a handful. She’s such a powerhouse at work and in her personal life, so controlled and assertive, she’d want to let go and give in for once. He sees her supplicant at his feet, her hands tied behind her and his cock in her throat. She sits back and opens her mouth wide as he shoots a load over the pink bowl of her tongue, watching a drop slide down her chin and then drip onto her breasts.

Now and then he imagines her as bossy and dominant, ordering him to lie down on the bed and sitting fully right on his face. He hears her commanding him to make her come if he wants to breathe, and feels the hot rush of her orgasm against his lips. Maybe she’d fuck him without letting him touch her. No physical restraints, just the power of her voice as she grinds her clit into his pelvic bone and uses him like a toy. When she’s done, she sits back on the bed and tells him to finish himself, the azure marbles of her eyes pinned to his lap as he strokes himself to orgasm.

He’s spent hours thinking about how her pussy might look and taste. A neat pink slash or soft, brown-tipped folds? A shy, hidden clit that he’d draw out from under its hood with a patient tongue, or a bold, assertive one that makes itself known before she’s even spread her legs? Is she sweet, or salty, or musky, or warm and sharp like rising bread? Fresh from the shower, or after the gym, or four hours into a stakeout, he knows she tastes incredible.

He feels his balls draw tighter and a tingling at the base of his spine. He leans back on the couch, moving his thighs open wider, and drops his head against the wall. Eyes squeezed shut tight, he pictures the view from between her legs, a patch of carmine curls blurring her face, which is stitched in pleasure. She catches his eye and holds it, and he feels her clench around his fingers as his tongue flashes up and down over her clit. Her muscles tense, her mouth falling open wider and wider, and then with a sharp inhale she erupts. He comes with a soft grunt, thick white ropes casting across his belly as he continues to stroke, continues to imagine making her feel the way that he’s feeling now.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry.”

He startles, his eyes flying open as he sits up abruptly and sees Scully turning away, heading back toward the door.

“You didn’t answer, and I thought—I’m sorry,” she says again.

He doesn’t get a chance to reply. The door thunks closed, and then the deadbolt as she locks it behind herself. Mulder snatches a handful of tissues from a box on the coffee table, his movements jerky from embarrassment, and sets about cleaning himself up. She must have knocked, but he’d been on another planet at that moment and he’s sure he didn’t hear her. His face is hot and his belly is in knots.

The phone rings, and he knows it’s her. He almost ignores it, but he’s going to have to see her at work tomorrow anyway, so he may as well get the conversation over with now.

“Mulder.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Forget about it, Scully. I’m serious, please erase it from your memory.”

He’s back on the couch, his pants no longer around his ankles, and he rubs his free hand across his eyes.

She’s quiet for a long time, and he tries to cook up some pithy joke that will help him end the conversation.

“When you didn’t answer the door I thought you were ignoring me. Shutting me out,” she finally says, her voice small and unfamiliar.

“I wouldn’t do that,” he says, which is a lie.

“But you’re angry—with me,” she says, a hint of a question in her inflection.

“No, I’m not angry, Scully,” he says softly. “I was just—that was a scary call to get. I was just scared and I didn’t handle it well, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she says, a near whisper, and he can tell that she needed to hear the apology. A weight lifts off his shoulders.

“Anyway, I think we’re even now, so if you don’t mind I need to go find a hole I can crawl into and die,” he jokes, and she puffs a little laugh.

“All right, but please be sure to dig yourself out by morning. I’ll need my partner in the office tomorrow,” she says lightly, and just like that the world tilts back on its proper axis.

“You got it, G-Woman. See you tomorrow.”

“Bye.”

“Night.”

Tagging @today-in-fic

#the x files #xf fanfic #xf fic #x files fanfic

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honeypirate · 3 years ago

Text

Going Home

Jet-Black Hero: Tsukuyomi / Tokoyami Fumikage x Fem!Reader - Pro Hero AU (in their 20s)

Tokoyami had it bad. He had it so bad he had to bribe dark shadow to keep his mouth shut about it when you would call him. Sure he’s older than he was in high school and has more control over his quirk partner- he could force him to keep his mouth shut, but it feels wrong to force him to do anything when he’s a friend

You met Tokoyami in high school, becoming instant friends and bonding over darkness and crime shows. You even went as scully and mulder one Halloween together. But then you moved to a different country before senior year and he hasn’t been able to physically see you since.

You kept in contact religiously. He was your best friend and you told him you’d die if he doesn’t remain that way. You talk every day whenever you have free time and FaceTime every Monday and Wednesday alternating evenings and mornings for each other whenever hero work allows.

You have a separate conversation going on Snapchat, Instagram, and texts that you both stay on top of. Your Snapchat streak said 1174 and you’d be damned if it ever broke before you got to see him again. And yes, somewhere along the lines, you fell for him, but you’d never tell him. You’d never ruin your friendship like that.

“Remember to pick her up at noon” Dark Shadow said into his mind and he rolled his eyes, like he would ever forget the date and time his best friend would be in his life again. The second his agency was confirmed he extended a contract toward you, a popular new hero who was looking for an agency. A six month contract with abilities to extend should it feel like a good fit.

“Seriously? Not just because I’m your friend? You honest to god think our quirks would work well if I’m your side kick? On the bracelet?” He nods into the phone camera and then looks down at the purple adjustable bracelet you had gotten for him on your last arcade adventure before you moved, a matching black one on your wrist.

“I swear on the bracelet” he said, heart skipping. Yes he knew your quirks would work well together that was true. But he also knew that he was dying to see to again and when you said you only needed a good enough opportunity to move back, he saw a perfect opportunity that fate had handed you both.

Your black bracelet was faded to grey over the years of never taking it off but your heart beat raced in your chest. “Okay” you say with a smile and warm cheeks “I’ll have my agent look over the contract and I’ll give it a serious thought career wise.” Your eyes sparkled and he hoped your agent liked the proposal. His heart racing as you smiled at him like that. God he loved your smile.

“I like it. It would be good for your hero image if you had hero work in other countries as well. Young hero going back home. We can make a good story out of it how you were home sick. It’s also good that it’s with your best friend.” You checked out after she said she liked it. You were going home. You were going home.

You called Tokoyami right away and he answered on almost the last ring. “I’m sorry I just needed to talk to you” you said and took a deep breath as he work up “no it’s fine. It’s always fine when it’s you” his voice was tired and thick and you could only imagine how it would be in person.

“I have some news” you said with a smile and he perked up, sitting up in bed and against his headboard as he looked out his window at the night sky “what is it?” He asks, trying not to feel too excited as the phone presses hard against his ear.

“Guess” you said with a teasing tone and he knew immediately

“Really?” He asks, not being able to hide the excitement in his tone as his empty fist shoots up in celebration

“She said she liked it. It’ll be good for my image” you said with a grin, holding the phone in the crook of your neck as you play with the bracelet you’ve never taken off.

“When?” He asks eagerly

“You should know when Fumi, you made the contract” you joke and he chuckles

“no I know when your first day will be but when are you coming here?” He needs to know how much longer. How much more time will be spent away from you

“A week”

he laughs once out of shock and joy “a week?” He asks and you laugh, joy lacing every part of your voice

“my agent got me a flight and an apartment. The building I asked for already had one open and it was easy peasy. It’ll be furnished for me so I’ll be there next Wednesday at noon. Then I’ll have three weeks there before I start work. With you”

He couldn’t believe it. It went so fast he feels like his heart is spasming. Eight years away from you and only one week to go. “I’ll pick you up text me your itinerary”

“Okay” you say with a laugh and then smirk as you say “you’re not gonna ask where I’m gonna be living?”

“Where?”

“#407” you say and it takes him a moment but he gets there

“You mean six doors down?” He asks and you laugh

“Yeah I hope you don’t mind. I just thought it would be fun” you feel nervous like he’s not gonna like it, your palms sweat

“That’s amazing I’m so happy” he says and you grin “really? You don’t mind I’m living in your building?”

“Why would I mind? The best person in my life is going to be my neighbor. I can’t wait”

You hear his alarm go off and gasp “I’m sorry Fumi I didn’t mean to ruin your sleep”

He laughs “you didn’t. Trust me. But I do have to go to work. To get things set for you to be here.”

“Okay. I’ll text you. Be safe today Fumi”

—

His hands feel sweaty as he stands at the gates. Jesus. Was this even a good idea? Fuck he was so nervous. Your plan had landed he was just waiting for the doors to open. When the fight attendants opened the door he felt dark shadow getting nervous as well.

But then he saw you, a hat on your head and sunglasses on to try and stay inconspicuous in American airports but since you were here now you took them off and ran your hand through your hair before scanning the room.

Fuck you were so beautiful his mouth was dry. You were so cute in pictures and face time but it had nothing on you in person. You were an angel. This was a bad idea he was too in love to do this.

Your eyes meet his and you smile wide, your hat and glasses in one hand and a water bottle in the other as you start making your way to each other. You started off walking and weaving around the slow walkers but once you had space you couldn’t stop increasing your speed before you were running for him, your water bottle clanging to the ground as you dropped everything and threw off your backpack to slam into his strong arms, laughing as tears fall into his neck as you bury your face into him.

“Hey Fumi” you whispered and held you tighter. You smelled amazing. Like fresh air and rosemary. He couldn’t get enough. He held you tight to his chest and realized you felt smaller in his arms but then he realized when you left he was 5’5 and tiny. He’s grown a lot since then and even though you have changed too, he’s still a much larger man than he was before.

He dwarfed you. You never thought it was even possible. He held you completely and you never wanted him to let go. “Fumikage” you say as you pull back, making sure he keeps his arms around your waist. You reach up and run your hand down his long feathers down the back of his head “you’re much larger in person holy crap. and your feathers are so beautiful!!! Fumi!!. I forgot the beautiful shades in the darkness of the black. How are you still single Fumi you must be dripping with fans” You joked but your heart hurt saying it. You wanted to hear him say he wasn’t dating. That he has feelings for you.

He looks down at you and feels pride swell in his heart as you praise him, controlling the urge to fluff out his feathers when you call them beautiful.

“No one wants to date a fan” he says shutting down your investigative prodding at his love life, but then says “You’re one to talk you’ve changed so much but I didn’t even know it was possible to be this gorgeous. Don’t think I didn’t read about America’s most eligible bachelorette.”

Your cheeks flush with heat and you hide your face in his neck “oh hush Fumi. Always flustering me. Like you haven’t FaceTimed me every week. And that article was a joke” he sighs softly and you can see emotions swirling in his eyes.

“It’s different in person” he says and you sigh as you gaze up at him with a smile “it certainly is”

Once dark shadow decided to ruin the moment you remembered you were still in the airport. Fumi carried your big suitcase like it wasn’t a hundred pounds and before you could object dark shadow had your backpack across his back. Dark Shadow just laughed when you stuck your tongue out at him. “we’ve really missed you” he said when he handed you your water, your glasses and hat already on his body

—

You fall back into an easy rhythm with Fumikage, teasing and playing while talking in his car back to the apartment. After laughing so hard and catching your breath, you look over at his profile and your heart skips. The sun is hitting his feathers, his black button up shirt that was unbuttoned at the neck pulled at his biceps as his right hand rests against the shifter and his left hand was on the steering wheel. God you didn’t know if this was a good idea. You thought you were going back to your childhood home but being with Fumikage nothing has felt more like home than this.

“The boxes you sent over should be here in the next few days. If you need anything or don’t have something you can always come over, I have a spare key for emergencies” he’s going over a few things that it seems like he’s really thought about before you came. He was prepared and it warmed your heart. You smiled up at him as the elevator dinged for the fourth floor and he looked down at you eyes widening as he catches you staring. you smile and reach out, taking a gentle hold on his free hand near you and give it a soft squeeze. “Thank you Fumi. You think of everything. I’ve really missed that”

He doesn’t let go of your hand until he has to unlock his front door, you’d be staying the night with him and your agent was meeting you in the morning with the keys for your place.

his fingers tingle to grab for your hand again but he doesnt

“You can have my room, I’ll take the couch in my office. It’s a pull out.” You smile from your place standing on the landing just inside the door, watching as he disappears with your luggage down a hallway then comes back walking a little slower and playing with his hands like he does when he’s nervous.

The edge of the landing went down a couple steps and he stopped at the bottom edge “feel free make yourself at your home” he says with a nervous chuckle and you grin, running and jumping off the landing into his arms and burying your face in his shoulder.

“Oh Fumi eight years was too long” you whispered into him and he holds you up effortlessly, his beak brushing your shoulder and he curves into you, desperate to hold you after so long “way too long” he agreed.

———

The weeks seemed to fly by, you were settled into your apartment and you just got done with your first official week at the office.

“So, Tsukuyomi, Sir” you say with a smirk and lean against his open office door “how was my first day boss?”

He crosses his arms over his wide chest and gave you his best Boss look, making your heart flutter and causing your cheeks to heat up. you chuckled and tried not to show how flustered you were when you walked farther into his office. He stood from his desk and gave you a nod with a soft chuckle “you did well. I think you’re going to love it here. Let me take you to dinner tonight to celebrate”

——

He showed up at your door at seven and your breath catches in your throat when you see him. Black straight jeans with a black button up tucked in with a red tie and black boots. He looked divine. Like a god of the underdark. His hands were fixing his tie and you stepped forward, not missing the squeak of his own breath catching in his throat at the sight of you, and fixed his tie for him.

You had on a red dress and a black jean jacket that has rolled sleeves and pair of black booties that look like you could kick someone’s ass in them. His brain immediately short wired and all he can think is how well you look together. How right. How good. Fuck this was going to be harder than he thought to just be your friend but he didn’t want to you to think he was a sleaze or make you quit his agency.

Your hands fix his tie and then rest against his chest, when you see his flustered eyes and nervous body language you chuckle and lean up, kissing his beak gently, then wiping the lipstick with your thumb “you look really handsome Fumi” you say softly and he feels a whimper catch in his throat.

your eyes turn from him up to Dark Shadow who had on a matching tie “is it too much?” He asks and you laugh “you look good in it but I do think you pull off natural look best” he nods and salutes you “message received” before taking it off and tossing it into your apartment behind you.

When you look back to Fumi he’s glaring at Dark Shadow like he was a bad child and you chuckled before boldly taking his hand, hoping you read the signs right and that he did feel the same.

“Are you ready?” You ask and he nods, his fingers tighten around your hand as he relaxes, giving you a soft squeeze before placing your hand on his bicep and holding you close as he cleared his throat “I got a reservation at this new restaurant downtown” he says as you enter the elevator and you smile up at him “anywhere with you is perfect”

Dinner went by incredibly quick, you sat in a back booth, talking and laughing the whole night. It was a new restaurant that catered to people with any kinds of quirks and had surprisingly good tofu and fish. (I mean who’s gonna get the chicken on date with a bird?)

By the end of the meal he’s grabbed your hand over the table and is running his fingers against yours softly. “Thank you for tonight Fumi, I really feel like being here was the right choice. I would have came no matter what my agent said” his eyes widened a little

“Really?” He asks and you laugh with a grin “of course! You’re special to me and I just needed a good reason to come back home” your expression was so soft he felt those three words crawl up his tongue.

His eyes look serious for a moment as he looks at the way your hands look together “y/n I need to tell you something” he says and gets extra serious

“What is it?” You ask, trying to keep your voice neutral even tho you know your face screams ‘I’m worried now’

He meets your eye for a few long seconds before he shakes his head. He couldn’t. He couldn’t ruin this close friendship when he wasnt positive his feelings would be returned. “Never mind. It’s not that important. What do you say about dessert?”

He was leaning on the table on his elbows, close enough to reach out and touch over the tiny table, and so you did. You reach up and ran your fingers lightly over the edges of his feathers with a soft smile. “Of course Fumi. But how about we go to the cookie place by the park you always talk about. I know you like it and it’s a perfect night for a walk.” He swallows hard and nods “that’s a perfect idea” he says as he signals for the waiter to pay.

You hold his hand all the way to the cookie place, talking easily and joking around, but you keep hoping for the perfect moment to confess. You had a feeling that’s what he was going to do at the restaurant, it changed your heart and convinced you to take the leap, almost positive he felt the same.

You sit on a bench in the park, one with perfect view of the city skyline, eating your cookies and dark shadow is teasing you about the time you kept stealing Tokoyami’s poptarts from the dorm kitchen. Your cheeks are hot and you’ve turned yourself towards Tokoyami, your left hand on your cheek and your face hidden in his shoulder as you laughed together, your right hand rested on his kid thigh. It felt so easy. So absolutely right.

You drop your hand from your cheek and look up at Tokoyami with a soft smile, heart racing at the emotion you find in his eyes.

“I’m sorry for stealing your poptarts” you say and his throat catches again at the way your eyes seem to shine with love for him he almost feels it’s too much but he wants to dive deeper, to drown in the love he finds.

He chuckles and cups your cheek “I never cared. I had the hugest crush on you then”

Your heart skips and your cheek heats even more under his touch “and now?” You ask, voice barely above a whisper

“Now I’m so in love I don’t know if it’s even quantifiable” he says with a hint of exasperation as he leans down and presses his forehead to yours.

Your eyes flutter closed as your heart thrums against your ribs, his confession echoing in your head as fireworks explode in your heart. You press a kiss on his beak and your heart skips when you hear a gasp catch in his throat

“I’m in love with you too, Fumi” you say and he pulls you into a hug, nuzzling his beak into your neck, wanting to get close to you to show you how much he loves you the best he can since he can’t properly kiss you.

He nips softly at your neck skin and you giggle so sweetly he feels light headed. You pull back and kiss his cheek before looking into his eyes. He cups your cheek again “that’s what I wanted to say back at the restaurant”

You chuckle and smile, taking his hand you press gentle kisses against his palm, trailing a few down to his wrist before saying with a smirk “I know”

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roswellnmsource · 3 years ago

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Michael Trevino Talks The CW’s ‘Roswell, New Mexico’

So first off, what was your reaction to finding out you’d be doing that time jump this season? Michael Trevino: For Kyle, I think jumping — I mean yeah, time has passed, right? And I think whenever you start a new season, we always ask that. We’re like, “Well, how much time has passed? Where are we starting from? Has as my character been here, been there?” So this is one of those seasons where yes, time has passed, kind of a restart, reboot and it’s fresh. I think our first episodes were showing people in their different dynamics and kind of briefly alluded to what they’ve been up to, and that’s always nice.

I had the chance to see episode nine early and really enjoyed it. What can you preview for the fans about what this episode has in store for them? I feel that episode nine is a turning point for Kyle. Kyle, as we all know, is there for everybody, whenever he can be. He seems to be the one that they go to. He’s always putting out fires, I keep saying that but it’s true. Whenever there’s a problem, Kyle’s there for you. And I think this episode is kind of where — not that he’s reached a limit, but it’s taken a toll on him and we get a very frustrated, little angsty Kyle for good reason, I feel. I think that that frustration is a bit earned after everything, but we are going to find out in 3×09, as we’ve been finding out, a bit more about who Jim Valenti was, who was Kyle’s father, who is Eduardo, what is Deep Sky about, and it’s going to kind of jumpstart Kyle for the rest of the season. It’s a big episode for him because he finally makes a decision on, “Okay, enough is enough. This is how I feel about this and this is what we’re doing next.”

How was it for you to play with that sort of stroyline as an actor? As you said, it is such an important point for him. Well, I gotta be honest, I just saw the episode and I’m coming in hot! I’m coming in real hot and in the moment I didn’t think it was that hot, but damn, we’re there. And so I think it’s fine because I get a lot of feedback, which is great, that Kyle is such a good guy and “I like his character, he’s there for everybody.” That’s nice, right? So I feel like after three seasons of that, to see Kyle a bit over it with what’s going on and everything that he’s being told, new information, more new information, I think it works. For me, you try to find those moments of like, “Okay, can I keep being there for everybody,” or at some point I’m going to be like, “Okay, I’m done,” right? Or “I can only do this much.” He’s never going to turn his back on people, but in this episode we see him a little frustrated.

Fans love the show, what does it mean to you when you go on social media or meet fans in person and hear their response to your work? It’s great. It’s a beautiful feeling because we’re currently filming season four and that’s rare for a series to really last that long, to build these characters, and to still have these interesting storylines. So, to know that people are still engaged in these characters and the story that we’re telling, they’re still tuning in, it’s nice. What makes it even more special this season is because we’re watching season three right now, but we’re currently at the same time filming season four. Through the scheduling it just worked out that way, but it’s almost instant feedback and it’s also an instant reminder of “Okay, where have we been? What have we done?” So we feel closer to the story, which is great for us as actors, but sometimes it’s not that way. You’ll see something and be like, “Oh yeah, we shot that a year ago. Where am I coming from? Where are we headed,” and you want to track these stories but right now I’m just thankful for everybody that’s continuing to watch and who’s invested in these characters.

The show was picked up for a season four ahead of season three even premiering, which was so amazing to see. What was your reaction when you heard the news? I was genuinely surprised because usually you don’t get a pickup until at least the season has aired or the season is four or five episodes in, but I guess because in the year COVID and the delay, the network was able to see all these episodes and see the ones that we’ve done already. It’s great feedback. I think that we have something special happening here in Santa Fe, New Mexico with this crew, this cast, and our writers back in LA, who are back to visiting us on set per their episode. Everybody’s still invested. It’s a great feeling because we’re all here, we’re happy to be here, grateful to be telling these stories and working, and we’d like to continue.

What has been your favorite storyline of the season so far that fans have already seen? I think — okay, well, to answer that on what we’ve already seen, I did like and enjoy the scenes with Kyle and Michael. Those were fun to shoot. I get along great with Mr. Michael Vlamis and it’s always fun to be in scenes with him because, as we know, Michael Guerin is a bit of a wild card. With that, Mr. Michael Vlamis on the day is able to be a little bit unpredictable and I like that. I like performing with him and feeding off of what he’s bringing. He always keeps it fresh and new in each take. So, I like those scenes with him

I know you can’t tell me too much, but what can you tease about the rest of season three? The rest of season three, I feel now that Jones is really flexing on us, we have this bit of the Avengers assembling right in Roswell, like everybody having to come together, everybody has a job, and it’s to really take care of Jones and get him out of here. So I think that’s really what the rest of these episodes are going to be about.

I love that metaphor you did. It’s perfect. It really is because it’s like from season one to season three, we’re all separate. Now, it’s like, “Okay, we have to join forces to handle this guy.” And that’s what we’re gonna see.

You filmed season three with the COVID pandemic and now you’re filming season four with those safety precautions since the pandemic is still going on. What did it feel like for you to wrap season three with those circumstances, but then also come back for season four? Well, I have to give it to our producers, really, because everybody in the world had to pivot. We all had to make changes in our lives and I think the changes that have been made to keep everybody — crew, catering, casting, post production, accounting, whoever — safe on set, there’s been some different rules and it’s kept everybody safe. I’m proud to say we didn’t have to shut down once in season three. Unfortunately, there’s other productions that had to, but up here in Santa Fe, no. We were just lucky or we followed the rules, I don’t know but we were great and we were able to keep to our schedule, not have to shut down, and now we’re back for season four and we know what to expect. So things are running smoothly and there hasn’t been any problem. I’m just happy, glad, and grateful that we’re able to still tell the stories.

What is your personal favorite dynamic (friendship or relationship) when it comes to Kyle? I’m going to say that I want to see more Kyle and Isobel. I think that Isobel brings out a different side of Kyle whenever they’re in scenes or have interactions with one another. I’d like to lean more into that storyline for whatever it may be, I just want them to have more interaction because I think Kyle acts a different way around her. She’s just such a big ball of energy, so I think that would be fantastic and I would want to see more of that.

I know you’re probably not going to be able to give me too much on this, but I have to ask you, what was your reaction when you read the scripts for season four? Well, my reaction is a kind of going off of my last answer, Kyle ends up having more storyline with Isobel and it’s nice to see that play out. And so far, it’s been refreshing to see them in scenes together. I will tease this: so far in season four, the scenes that are with Kyle and Isobel have a comedic feeling to them. I feel like their scenes are fun and funny to shoot, but there’s a comedic element to it.

Is there any other show that you are personally a fan of and would like to see Roswell, New Mexico do a crossover with? Oh damn, that’s a great question. Off the top of my head, we’re gonna have a Roswell, New Mexico and The X-Files crossover event. This episode is going to air right after the Super Bowl and millions of people are going to watch it. It’s going to be Scully and Mulder pulling up to Roswell, New Mexico and Kyle will be there to greet them.

Is there a memory that sticks out to you as a memorable moment from filming season three? Oh gosh, it’s our season finale, it has to be our season finale. I can’t give away too much, but like I said about as far as Avengers assembling, it’s those scenes when we’re all on set together. It’s the season finale, we’re in Santa Fe in the middle of February and March, it’s freezing, it’s like 10 degrees outside, we’re getting the exterior night shoots that we need, and we’re all in. It’s not even just the cast, it’s the crew, it’s everybody. We’re just trying to get the final shot done of the season and we are working against all the elements. It’s a bit chaotic but it’s organized — organized chaos, that’s what it is. Those feelings are you got to get the job done and that’s what we do. I mean, we all know Jones is the big bad and everybody’s gonna have to get involved to take care of him and we see that in our last episode. Those scenes are really fun to shoot. They were challenging but I think it’s gonna come together well and it’ll be a strong finish for us.

If you could create a tagline or a phrase of your own to describe Kyle as a character, what would you pick? Kyle Valenti: I’m there if you need me.

#michael trevino #kyle valenti #roswell new mexico #press #3x09 #rnm spoilers

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sisterspooky1013 · 3 years ago

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Only One Choice, Part 2, Chapter 14

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

“It was so good to see you, Will,” Valerie says in a muffled voice against his chest as he has her wrapped up tightly in a bear hug.

“I know, I’m so glad I ran into you,” Mulder replies, brushing his hands over her back. He pulls away and kisses her softly on the cheek.

“It makes me really happy to see you so happy,” she says with a smile, her long brunette hair lifting softly in the breeze, brown eyes holding affection that can only be held between two people who have the type of bond that can withstand a breakup and then a transition from lovers to friends.

“Likewise,” he says, nodding towards the small swell of her growing belly.

“I’d love to meet your girlfriend someday, if you think she’d be okay with that,” she says, collecting her purse.

“Yes, I’d really like that. I think you two would get along really well, actually,” he says, and she smirks at him.

“You’re not afraid we’ll bond over having to sit through your shitty movie collection?” she teases, and he laughs good-naturedly.

“Hey, Scully likes my shitty movies, that’s why we’re a perfect match,” he retorts.

She squeezes his arm.

“Call me sometime, okay?”

He nods and watches her walk away, feeling like he’s on cloud nine. A great friendship with his ex-girlfriend, a promising new love with the woman of his dreams; he can only imagine what lies in store next. He practically skips on the walk back to his car, wondering if Scully might let him come by tonight, hoping that he won’t have to wait until the weekend to see her again. He decides to call her as soon as he gets home.

The first few times he gets her machine, he assumes she must be at her mother’s. When she still hasn’t answered or called back by 9:00 pm, he’s confused. When he emails her the next morning and still hasn’t gotten a response at 10:00am, he’s officially worried.

Something is wrong.

———

She had eventually turned off the ringer on her phone and put the volume all the way down on her answering machine so she wouldn’t have to hear his increasingly obsessive attempts to get ahold of her, then slept fitfully all night.

She knows that she needs to give him some kind of response or he’ll show up on her doorstep, but she can’t bring herself to face him, even in voice. Every time the image of him with that woman pops back into her head, she feels a lump form in her throat immediately, a sick sadness welling in her belly. She’s pored over every memory in her mind, every interaction they’ve had, searching for signs. Signs that he was seeing someone else, that he wasn’t interested in anything other than getting in her pants, that he was lying to her. Her thorough inventory brings up next to nothing, which almost makes it worse; how adept he must have been at creating a false reality for her to exist in. Perhaps he’s garnered some tips from the sociopaths he studies, or maybe his background in psychology allowed him to manipulate her.

When she arrives at work, she is unsurprised though still dismayed to see an email waiting for her.

From: [email protected]

Sent: May 5, 1997 7:57 am

To: [email protected]

Subject: Where are you?

Scully, you’re freaking me out. Are you okay? Please respond.

She deletes it immediately and tries to focus on work. She performs an autopsy and teaches a class, both welcome distractions from her emotional torment. Just before 11:00 am, the phone rings.

“Autopsy bay, this is Trudy…yep, she’s here, one second.”

Trudy turns and opens her mouth to speak, but sees Dana waving her arms and shaking her head. She makes a confused face and puts the phone back to her ear.

“Oh, actually she just stepped out, sorry. Can I take a message?”

She watches as Trudy scribbles something on a piece of paper.

“Uh huh…yes. Okay, I’ll tell her…you have my word.”

She replaces the phone on the receiver and hands Dana the paper with a sympathetic frown.

“Trouble in paradise?” she asks rhetorically.

Dana looks down and deciphers Trudy’s messy scrawl.

Call Mulder immediately. Send a sign of life.

She crumples it up and tosses it into the trash can.

“You wanna talk about it?” Trudy asks.

“Nope,” Dana replies, turning back to the computer.

From: [email protected]

Sent: May 5th, 1997 11:03am

To: [email protected]

Subject: PLEASE RESPOND

Scully, I don’t know what the hell is going on, but if you don’t reply to this within an hour I’m driving down there.

Please respond

She feels fresh tears well in her eyes. Why is he trying so hard if he’s seeing someone else anyway? Why is he doing this to her? With a surge of anger, she hits reply.

From: [email protected]

Sent: May 5th, 1997 11:05am

To: [email protected]

Subject: RE:PLEASE RESPOND

I’m fine, Mulder. Please just give me some space.

With that she closes her email, begs someone to take her second class of the day, and goes home.

———

He feels like he’s stepped into an alternate universe. He’d left her happy and satisfied, and out of nowhere she’s shutting him out. What does she need space for? Space from him? Why? Did he come on too strong and freak her out? He thought they’d moved past that. He picks up the phone again.

“Autopsy bay, this is Trudy.”

“Trudy, it’s Agent Mulder again. Look, I don’t want to put you in an awkward position, but is Dana there?”

She pauses. “No, she went home for the day. She seemed pretty upset.”

“Do you have any idea why?” he implores.

“No, other than the fact that it seems to be directed at you.”

“Yeah, that much I gathered. Thanks, Trudy, sorry to bother you.”

“No worries, good luck.”

He slams the phone down, grabs his jacket off the back of his chair and leaves.

———

She is half expecting his knock, but it still makes her jump, nearly causing her to spill her wine. She wants to just ignore him until he goes away, but she knows his proclivity towards persistence won’t let him do that. Better to just get it over with, she thinks as she slumps towards the door.

The second she lays eyes on him in his slacks and dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his tie discarded, she feels her chin pucker and tears threaten her eyes. As angry as she is, she immediately wants to go to him, to curl up within his embrace so he can comfort her. The problem is, what she needs comforting from is him.

“What is going on?” he says with a mix of frustration and fear.

She stands in the open doorway, not making space for him to enter.

“I saw you,” she says, her voice strained with emotion.

“You saw me...what?” he asks, his face a mask of confusion.

She lifts her chin, clenching her jaw and summoning strength.

“I saw you with her. Yesterday, at the Bluebird Cafe. After I had lunch with my family.” her voice holds steady, anger carrying her through.

His face falls and her gut twists. She wishes she didn’t have to watch this.

“THAT is what this is about?” he asks, but there’s no shame or regret in his voice. If anything, he sounds a little mad.

She nods curtly.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he spits out, and she recoils a little at his vitriol. “Let me in, Scully. Right now,” he demands, and against her better judgement she moves aside.

He pushes past her into the apartment and she closes the door softly, leaving it unlocked in case either of them decides to make a hasty exit.

“Did you consider,” he begins, his back to her, “maybe, I don’t know, asking me about what you saw?” He turns to face her, one hand on his hip and his face contorted with anger. “Or were you just planning to avoid me until I gave up and went away again?”

She doesn’t know what to say. She’s confused about why he’s yelling at her when he’s the one who did something wrong. She just looks at him, expressionless.

He juts his chin out expectantly, waiting for an answer, but gets none. She averts her eyes.

“Is that all this is worth to you, Scully?” he continues, “you’re ready to throw this away over a simple misunderstanding, without even talking to me?”

She lifts her head and looks at him with a pained expression. “Okay then, talk,” she gets out.

He drops his head in frustration. “The woman you saw me with,” he says flatly, lifting his head to meet her eye, “was my ex-girlfriend, Valerie. I ran into her while I was running errands yesterday, and we had lunch. She has a boyfriend and is three months pregnant. We spent the majority of our meal together talking about you.”

She shakes her head gently, her throat closing as a tear rolls down her cheek. “I saw you kiss her,” she whispers, her jaw quivering.

“You saw me kiss her on the cheek? I also kiss my mother on the cheek, Scully, it’s hardly an intimate gesture.”

She feels a new wave of sickness pass over her, but this time it’s entirely different. This time it’s the sick feeling of realizing that she was very, very, wrong, and that she has, yet again, hurt the man who loves her. She opens her mouth to speak but she can’t find the right words.

He steps forward but doesn’t touch her. When he speaks, his voice is softer, more defeated than anything else.

“I’m sorry that you saw something that upset you. But if you actually thought for a single second that I want to be with anyone but you, you’re fucking insane. I meant what I said the day you left my apartment last year. I felt it then, and I feel it now. I want this to work more than anything, Scully, but for that to be possible you have to trust me. I can’t live with the knowledge that you might just shut me out at a moment’s notice when you get scared.”

She keeps her head down, overwhelmed by a combination of shame, embarrassment, and gratitude that he wouldn’t let her walk away. She does not deserve this man, but she wants to.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, still unable to meet his eye.

“I know you are,” he replies, moving towards the door. “Take the space you need, and let me know when you’re ready to trust me.”

When she hears the click of the door closing behind him, she collapses to the floor, sobbing for so many reasons she couldn’t possibly name them all. When it’s faded to snivels and hiccups, she stands and goes to the hallway, picking up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Missy,” she chokes out, “Can you come over?”

———

He’s not sure if leaving was the right thing to do. The risk that she might not come back around is one that sends his stomach into knots, but at the same time he finds it hard to accept that she wasn’t even going to give him the opportunity to explain. He’s been actively working to temper expressing his feelings so he doesn’t overwhelm her, but then she gets it in her head that he’s not invested. It feels like he can’t win.

He goes back to work and stops by Kirkbride’s office to apologize for disappearing. Kirkbride just gives him a quizzical look, clearly not having noticed he had left. The rest of the day he buckles down on his caseload, distracting himself from the catastrophic thoughts that dance through his head, and gets more work done than he has in quite a while. When he leaves the office just after 5:00 pm, he feels melancholy and grouchy, and annoyed that he left the ball in her court.

The elevator dings to announce his arrival on the fourth floor and he steps out with a takeout bag in his hand, eyes downcast. Halfway down the hall, he readies his key and looks up, startling when he sees Scully sitting on the floor against his door, knees tucked up against her chest and her forehead resting on her kneecaps. She’s very still, and as he gets closer he realizes that she’s asleep. His heart aches knowing that she’s been waiting that long, that she didn’t want to leave without talking to him.

He crouches down beside her, setting his dinner on the floor, and gently touches her shoulder. She jerks, her head snapping up and her eyes wild for a moment while she tries to orient herself. When she focuses on him, she immediately starts crying, reaching out to wrap her arms around his neck. He’s surprised by her uncharacteristically emotional response, but says nothing and just holds her until his knees start to ache, at which point he sits down on the floor and pulls her into his lap. They stay this way for several minutes, long enough for one of his neighbors to walk by and politely avert their eyes, entering their apartment as though there was nothing out of the ordinary happening in the hallway. When the crying seems to have subsided a bit, he gives her a little squeeze.

“Wanna go inside?” he asks, and she nods against his chest, his shirt damp from her tears.

She stands unsteadily and he follows her, grabbing the takeout bag off the floor. They enter the apartment and Priscilla plods up to them with an excited meow. Scully leans down and picks her up, tucking the cat against her neck as they nuzzle each other. Mulder smiles at them with a bemused expression.

“She was talking to me through the door,” Scully says with a small smile, “she heard me knocking and was meowing from the other side. We had a conversation.”

Affection swells in his chest and he steps forward to kiss her. Her shoulders drop and she lets Priscilla down so she can get closer, threading her arms around his waist and kissing him back in earnest. Desperate, thought I’d lost you again kisses that are as arousing as they are a relief, because he knows that they will be okay.

He pulls back a little and she makes a whimpering sound in protest.

“I’m gonna go change really quick, okay? Then can we talk?” he asks, and she sighs and nods. “You can have half my Chinese,” he adds, and she gives him a tight-lipped smile.

When he sits on the couch beside her five minutes later, she scoots closer so they are pressed against each other, and he gathers that she needs physical closeness right now. He loops an arm around her shoulder and she crawls right back into his lap, curled against him as though trying to fuse her body to his own. Her head tucked beneath his chin, she holds one of his hands in her lap, fingers laced tightly together, and begins to speak.

“After you left, Missy came over and we talked for a long time. I’ve come to realize how much I’m still affected by...what happened last year. I harbor a lot of guilt for being unfaithful to Ethan, and that’s actually largely why I married him even though I knew my heart wasn’t in it.” She pulls in a deep breath, pressing their joined hands tight against her belly, trying to get even closer. “When you and I reconnected, in a way it felt like a chance to validate it. As though things working out with us would mean that what I did wasn’t as bad, because there was something real between us. But at the same time, a big part of me doesn’t believe that I deserve to be happy.” Her voice remains steady, but he feels the wet drop of a tear on the back of his hand.

He tightens his arm around her waist. “I’ve always been a person who values doing the right thing, and integrity was something that was very important to my father. It was his measure of a person’s character, and that’s something he instilled in me as well.” She sits up a bit so she can look at him, and his heart breaks at her red-rimmed eyes, her icy irises so mournful. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, Mulder. You haven’t given me any reason not to. It’s just that I don’t feel like I deserve this, especially with you, and I’m waiting for the moment it all comes crashing down. So when I saw you with that woman, it was almost like I’d been waiting for it, expecting it. Getting what I deserved.”

He brings his palms to her cheeks, brushing away the tears with his thumbs.

“Thank you for telling me that,” he says softly. “I wish I could change how you feel, but I know that I can’t. I do know how it feels to spend your life harboring guilt over something you could have done differently, and I can tell you that punishing yourself won’t make it any easier. It makes me really sad that you’ll always regret how we met.”

She closes her eyes and shakes her head gently. When she opens them, her expression is more tender than it is mournful.

“I don’t regret it, Mulder. I do feel guilt, and shame, for not ending it with Ethan so we could have done things the right way, but I could never regret meeting you.”

He pulls her back into an embrace, her arms wrapping around his ribcage, and plants a kiss to the top of her head.

“Are we okay?” he asks softly.

“I hope so,” she says hoarsely.

“Is this a bad time to tell you that Valerie wants to meet you sometime?” he asks, and she laughs.

“I don’t know, did you tell her that I freaked out on you because you had lunch with her?” she replies, and he can already hear her tone shifting back to their typical lighthearted banter.

“No, of course not. That’ll be our little secret. Well, plus Trudy. I think Trudy knows too much honestly.”

She laughs again, and god he could spend the rest of his life trying to make her laugh. In fact, that’s exactly what he hopes to do.

“Speaking of meeting people,” she continues, “Missy mentioned you to my mother yesterday and she wants to meet you.”

A grin stretches across his mouth, but he doesn’t say anything. She pulls back to look at his face, to gauge his reaction, and smiles softly in response.

“You want me to meet your mom?” he asks, the delight on his face carrying over to his voice.

Her mouth screws up shyly. “My little brother will probably be there too, and Missy. Is that too much?”

He shakes his head. “Sounds perfect. But, there are some friends I’d like you to meet too, if we’re meeting people.”

“The Lone Gunmen?” she asks with a skeptical lilt.

“Those are the ones. They’re my only friends, actually. Aside from Val.” Just then, Priscilla hops up onto the couch beside them. “Oh, and you Priscilla, sorry,” he adds.

Scully smiles at the cat, and then at him. “Can I bring Missy as a human buffer?” she asks hopefully.

“Of course. You may set a record for the highest number of female visitors to their lair in a day.”

“Lair?” she asks with wide eyes.

He chuckles. “They’ll grow on you, I promise.”

#the x files #dana scully #fox mulder #gillovny #txf #msr #sculder #x files fanfic #alternate universe

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misslilli · 3 years ago

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Whelp, with yesterday we're back at school. Teaching first grade is hard, man 😂 Thank you guys, again, for going on this adventure with me :)

Felix Felicis

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

Chapter 17 - The Mulder Boys's Birthday Bash

[ DS ]

The Saturday of the Mulder Boys’s Birthday Bash, I find myself standing in front of my closet with the girls, frowning at my selection of dresses. “What about this one?” Holly fingers a yellow sundress.

“Nah, it’s pretty but she looks like she’s going to church in that one.” Sarah tugs on a dress with a daisy print on it.

“Are you joking? That one’s even more Virgin Mary than the yellow one!”

Alex reaches into my closet and pulls out a navy two-piece dress I bought on a whim a few years back, but have never worn since then. “How about this one?”

“A, that’s perfect! It’s classy, yet sexy, just what we’re going for!” Sarah shoves me towards my bathroom. “Go try it on, D! And wear those nude heels with it.” I take the dress out of Alex’s arms and the shoes from Sarah and change into the outfit quickly. The straps drape across my arms just below my shoulders and it’s low cut just enough for my comfort. My cross necklace gleams against my skin and I decide to keep it on for tonight. Since it’s a two-piece, there’s just a sliver of skin visible between the top and the skirt, which flares out and swishes around my knees.

Slipping on my heels I step outside and the girls gasp in unison. “Yes, that’s the one! How does it feel D?” Holly pulls me over and I twirl in front of the full-length mirror, smiling as the skirt billows out around my legs.

“It’s beautiful, I love it. Thanks, girls!”

“The Mulder boys won’t know what hit ‘em when you show up wearing that!” Sarah winks at me suggestively and I roll my eyes at her.

“You know exactly that that’s not why I’m wearing it!”

Now it’s Sarah’s turn to roll her eyes. “Yeah sure, just keep telling yourself that…”

“Come on guys, we’re already unfashionably late. I’ll just call us a cab, are you ready?”

I grab a shawl against the cold and my purse before we make our way downstairs to wait for the cab. When we arrive at the house, we can already hear faint party noises from the backyard and my heart’s beating hard against my chest when we walk up the front walkway to ring the doorbell. My gaze wanders around the front of the house, the glass veranda on the right catching my eye. It’s completely different from our beach house, but it’s beautiful all the same.

The door opens to reveal Principal Skinner with a glass of whiskey in his hand and he holds the door open for us. “Hello ladies, come on in! You look extraordinarily beautiful tonight! Follow me, the party’s out back in the yard.”

He leads us through the house and I notice that it’s got polished hardwood floors and is furnished with antiques, giving it a cozy feel. We walk past the glass veranda which houses the dining room on the right and the living room with a massive couch to the left, which opens into the kitchen. The wooden staircase to the first floor is tucked away in the back. Skinner points us to the bathroom as we walk past it before we step outside onto the back porch and my breath catches in my chest.

They really went all out on this party, there’s string lights twinkling all around the hedge and in the trees, catered food and a bar in one corner, round tables in the middle and a massive dancefloor with a DJ in the other corner. Holly whistles through her teeth. “Man, they sure know how to live it up. Why are our parties never this nice? Jesus, I think they invited half the town for this.”

“Well, that’s on me I guess, they don’t know many people around here yet so I figured it would be the perfect opportunity to make new acquaintances,” Principal Skinner admits but I’m only half listening because my eyes are too busy scanning the crowd. Sarah nudges my hip and tilts her head over to the bar and I’m embarrassed that she knows exactly who I was looking for. There he is, deep in conversation with Skinner’s wife, laughing at something she said.

He’s wearing a dark blue suit with a white dress shirt and a crimson tie and while the sight of him in a plain t-shirt with jeans are enough to make my heart skip a beat, him in that suit is going to give me a heart attack.

“Would you look at that D, you color coordinated, matchsiiiesss.” Holly whispers in my ear and I give her a pointed look.

“Shut up, Holly!” I hiss at her.

Just then, he looks over at us standing on the elevated porch and I can practically feel the slight burn his eyes leave as they travel up and down my body, giving me the once over. I hope he has a defibrillator. He flashes us a smile and raises his hand in a small wave, then continues his conversation with Arlene Skinner.

“Come on, girls, let’s put the presents on the gift table and get something to eat and drink.” ‘Eat, drink and be merry for today you may die.’

At the bar we sidestep the wine for now, since we haven’t eaten yet and I don’t want to embarrass myself by getting tipsy and stumbling over my heels. With my luck, I’ll just faceplant at a certain someone’s feet. ‘Huh, maybe he’ll catch me in those strong arms of his, though, if you’re really lucky…‘

When he spots our little circle, Felix comes over to us wearing a boy version of his dad’s suit, only with short dress pants and sneakers better suited for running around with the other kids. He’s tugging a tall woman along, with wavy brown hair and a kind face that seems somewhat familiar, but I’m not sure where to place her. His face is flushed and he beams at us happily.

“You came!”

“Of course we came, happy birthday Felix!” Sarah raises her glass to him and we all chime in with our Happy birthdays. The woman he came over with also raises her glass and ruffles his hair affectionately.

“This is my teacher Miss Anderson, and Miss Carter and Miss Spencer and Miss Scully,” he introduces us while the woman takes her turn shaking our hands. She regards me curiously and her lips curve into a smile.

“I’m Sam, Fox’s sister and Felix’s favorite aunt!” His sister, that’s why her face seemed so familiar. “So you’re the enigmatic Miss Scully I’ve heard so much about. It’s so nice to finally meet you!” She notices the surprised look on my face. “Only good things, I promise. Felix won’t shut up about you when we talk on the phone.” I laugh, mostly because of the exasperated look Felix gives his aunt at revealing his secret.

“Glad to hear it, we’re having a lot of fun with him during recess! Nice to meet you, Sam. I really like your dress, did you get it around here?”

“Thanks, but no, I got it back in LA, I’m only visiting for a couple of days, I just couldn’t miss my two handsome boys’s birthday bash!”

“Handsome, huh? You spoil me sis!” Her brother has snuck up behind her, throwing his arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his side and planting a kiss on her cheek. “Hi ladies, thanks for coming, you look very lovely today!” We raise our glasses to him as well, wishing him a happy birthday and my drink spills over a little in my shaky hand. I pray that no one notices.

“Sam I’m so sorry to drag you away, but can you help me out and check if everything’s alright with the caterers?” They excuse themselves and we decide it’s time for us to check out what said caterers have prepared, our stomachs already rumbling. Hopefully, the butterflies in my stomach will make room.

----------

[ Sam ]

After checking with the caterers inside, I return to the party, standing on the back porch to watch everyone have a good time and I’m secretly a little proud of myself. Planning the party from all the way across the country had been stressful to say the least, but it turned out great. My gaze wanders around the tables and it catches on the tiny red-head and her three friends, who seem to be having a great time, laughing and chatting at their table.

I’ve heard many stories from Felix over the last few weeks but what surprised me the most was the way my brother looks at her. When I saw the way his whole face lit up when she walked in, I realized that Felix was not the only one taken with Miss Scully. She’s not his usual type - not that she’s not pretty, she is, very much so - but she’s actually nice. A vast improvement from the piece of work that’s his ex-wife, let me tell you. I wonder if he’s thought about asking her out yet.

----------

[ DS ]

After dinner, we’re treated to another visit from the little Mulder, who’s breathless from the game of tag with his friends. “Hey Felix! Are you having a good time?” He nods enthusiastically, trying hard to catch his breath.

“Yeah, auntie Sam did a really good job! I can’t wait for my cake, she said it’s really huuuge! And the DJ is playing aaaall my favorite songs, too!”

Suddenly shy, he shuffles his feet a bit and then, gathering all his courage, he looks up at me and holds out a tiny hand. “Miss Scully, will you dance with me?”

“Of course, birthday boy, come on.”

----------

[ Sam ]

Once I’m finished making another round of checking that everything’s running smoothly, I spot my brother standing at the bottom of the stairs, watching the party. Stopping on the last step, I wrap my arms around his waist and rest my chin on his shoulder. “Great party, huh?”

“Yeah, you did a pretty good job sis. And Skinner’s managed to gather up quite a crowd. Almost everyone’s here tonight!”

“You know what I think? You’d be just as happy if it were only you and one other special guest here tonight.” He turns his head a little, frowning.

“What?” I motion my head to the woman who’s currently talking to Felix at her table. “Aah. Is it that obvious?” I snort derisively

“Are you kidding me, bro? I’ve known you all my life, I can see the hearts in your eyes from a mile down the road. Have you asked her out yet?”

“No… I’m so nervous around her I can barely string more than a few coherent words together. She probably thinks I’m a huge idiot. I asked her if she believes in aliens, Sam!” We watch as Felix holds his hand out to her, asking her to dance with him. He’s so cute I can barely stand it.

“I’m sure that’s not true. You should take a page out of your son’s book though, boy’s got game!” My brother laughs as the somewhat mismatched pair sways on the dancefloor.

I release him from my embrace, an idea popping into my head. “You should go and cut in.” Now he fully turns to me and looks at me like I’m crazy.

“What? No…” He’s making his panic face.

“What yes! Carpe diem, right now!” I give him a gentle shove in the direction of the dancefloor. “Go! I’ll handle the music.”

----------

[ DS ]

Of course, I can’t say no to the little charmer and we make our way to the dancefloor and I sway with Felix in time to the music, twirling him around until he giggles.

“You look really handsome tonight, Felix!”

He smiles shyly and narrowly avoids stepping on my shoes. “Thank you! You look really beautiful too.”

“You’re absolutely right, son. Mind if I cut in?” A tingle shoots up my spine at the sound of his voice and Felix nods, stepping back. His dad holds out his hand to me. “A dance for the other birthday boy?”

“Well technically, it’s not your birthday for a few days.” I tease him, but I slip my hand into his and he spins me against him, wrapping his right arm around my waist, clasping my left hand in his tightly. The DJ fades into a new song and I groan inwardly as Sonny and Cher’s “I got you babe!” starts droning from the speakers. We sway for a few beats before he whips me across the dancefloor in a quick waltz. Over his shoulder I can see countless pairs of eyes following us but for once, tonight, I don’t care because all I can feel is the burn of his fingers resting on the sliver of exposed skin of my waist and the tickle of the hair at the back of his neck against my hand. God, this guy can waltz.

On the last few notes, he twirls me out with a grin on his face, tugging on my hand to bring me back in and then he dips me back for the grand finale. Dips me. The move takes me by surprise and I laugh, breathless when he brings me upright again.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to dip your lady in a waltz!” I realize my Freudian slip a fraction of a second too late. ‘Your lady? What the heck, Dana.’

He just shrugs nonchalantly, still grinning. “If I fancy to dip my lady, I will dip my lady! Thank you for this dance, Miss Scully!” He bows his head and I chuckle, curtsying. “The pleasure was all mine, Mr. Mulder!” ‘Who ARE you?’

We step off the dancefloor and I return to our table, sitting down still a little bit out of breath, only to be met with three incredulous stares. ‘Here we go, 3, 2, 1…’

“What was that, D?” Holly.

“Oh my God, the two of you on the dancefloor!” Sarah.

“That was incredible!” Alex.

I shrug, picking up my glass, but I can’t hide the blush on my face and smile around my straw. “Mr. Mulder can waltz.” I’ll never live this down.

Sometime after the birthday cakes came out, Felix appears at my side again and leans against me heavily. I can tell he’s coming down from his sugar-high. “Miss Scully, remember how I told you about the encyclopedia on butterflies?”

“Yeah I do, what about it?”

“Would you like to see it?” He looks up at me hopefully and I agree, glad to get away from the action for a while.

“Okay, come on!” Together we climb the steps to the back porch and he tugs me inside into the living room where we sit down on the couch. I can finally slip off my heels while Felix runs to get the encyclopedia and after returning, places it on my lap curling up into my side. He opens the heavy book and shows me his favorite butterflies, explaining in great detail what’s so special about it.

His voice gets more and more quiet with each new butterfly until he stops talking altogether and looking down I realize that he fell asleep, completely wiped. Coming off my own sugar high, I scoot down lower into the cushions and lean my head back against the back, closing my eyes. Just for a second.

#xf #the x files #xf fanfic #msr #felix felicis

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gra-sonas · 3 years ago

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I had the chance to see episode nine early and really enjoyed it. What can you preview for the fans about what this episode has in store for them? Michael Trevino: I feel that episode nine is a turning point for Kyle. Kyle, as we all know, is there for everybody, whenever he can be. He seems to be the one that they go to. He’s always putting out fires, I keep saying that but it’s true. Whenever there’s a problem, Kyle’s there for you. And I think this episode is kind of where — not that he’s reached a limit, but it’s taken a toll on him and we get a very frustrated, little angsty Kyle for good reason, I feel. I think that that frustration is a bit earned after everything, but we are going to find out in 3×09, as we’ve been finding out, a bit more about who Jim Valenti was, who was Kyle’s father, who is Eduardo, what is Deep Sky about, and it’s going to kind of jumpstart Kyle for the rest of the season. It’s a big episode for him because he finally makes a decision on, “Okay, enough is enough. This is how I feel about this and this is what we’re doing next.”

How was it for you to play with that sort of stroyline as an actor? As you said, it is such an important point for him. Michael Trevino: Well, I gotta be honest, I just saw the episode and I’m coming in hot! I’m coming in real hot and in the moment I didn’t think it was that hot, but damn, we’re there. And so I think it’s fine because I get a lot of feedback, which is great, that Kyle is such a good guy and “I like his character, he’s there for everybody.” That’s nice, right? So I feel like after three seasons of that, to see Kyle a bit over it with what’s going on and everything that he’s being told, new information, more new information, I think it works. For me, you try to find those moments of like, “Okay, can I keep being there for everybody,” or at some point I’m going to be like, “Okay, I’m done,” right? Or “I can only do this much.” He’s never going to turn his back on people, but in this episode we see him a little frustrated.

Fans love the show, what does it mean to you when you go on social media or meet fans in person and hear their response to your work? Michael Trevino: It’s great. It’s a beautiful feeling because we’re currently filming season four and that’s rare for a series to really last that long, to build these characters, and to still have these interesting storylines. So, to know that people are still engaged in these characters and the story that we’re telling, they’re still tuning in, it’s nice. What makes it even more special this season is because we’re watching season three right now, but we’re currently at the same time filming season four. Through the scheduling it just worked out that way, but it’s almost instant feedback and it’s also an instant reminder of “Okay, where have we been? What have we done?” So we feel closer to the story, which is great for us as actors, but sometimes it’s not that way. You’ll see something and be like, “Oh yeah, we shot that a year ago. Where am I coming from? Where are we headed,” and you want to track these stories but right now I’m just thankful for everybody that’s continuing to watch and who’s invested in these characters.

The show was picked up for a season four ahead of season three even premiering, which was so amazing to see. What was your reaction when you heard the news? Michael Trevino: I was genuinely surprised because usually you don’t get a pickup until at least the season has aired or the season is four or five episodes in, but I guess because in the year COVID and the delay, the network was able to see all these episodes and see the ones that we’ve done already. It’s great feedback. I think that we have something special happening here in Santa Fe, New Mexico with this crew, this cast, and our writers back in LA, who are back to visiting us on set per their episode. Everybody’s still invested. It’s a great feeling because we’re all here, we’re happy to be here, grateful to be telling these stories and working, and we’d like to continue.

What has been your favorite storyline of the season so far that fans have already seen? Michael Trevino: I think — okay, well, to answer that on what we’ve already seen, I did like and enjoy the scenes with Kyle and Michael. Those were fun to shoot. I get along great with Mr. Michael Vlamis and it’s always fun to be in scenes with him because, as we know, Michael Guerin is a bit of a wild card. With that, Mr. Michael Vlamis on the day is able to be a little bit unpredictable and I like that. I like performing with him and feeding off of what he’s bringing. He always keeps it fresh and new in each take. So, I like those scenes with him

I know you can’t tell me too much, but what can you tease about the rest of season three? Michael Trevino: The rest of season three, I feel now that Jones is really flexing on us, we have this bit of the Avengers assembling right in Roswell, like everybody having to come together, everybody has a job, and it’s to really take care of Jones and get him out of here. So I think that’s really what the rest of these episodes are going to be about.

I love that metaphor you did. It’s perfect. Michael Trevino: It really is because it’s like from season one to season three, we’re all separate. Now, it’s like, “Okay, we have to join forces to handle this guy.” And that’s what we’re gonna see.

You filmed season three with the COVID pandemic and now you’re filming season four with those safety precautions since the pandemic is still going on. What did it feel like for you to wrap season three with those circumstances, but then also come back for season four? Michael Trevino: Well, I have to give it to our producers, really, because everybody in the world had to pivot. We all had to make changes in our lives and I think the changes that have been made to keep everybody — crew, catering, casting, post production, accounting, whoever — safe on set, there’s been some different rules and it’s kept everybody safe. I’m proud to say we didn’t have to shut down once in season three. Unfortunately, there’s other productions that had to, but up here in Santa Fe, no. We were just lucky or we followed the rules, I don’t know but we were great and we were able to keep to our schedule, not have to shut down, and now we’re back for season four and we know what to expect. So things are running smoothly and there hasn’t been any problem. I’m just happy, glad, and grateful that we’re able to still tell the stories.

What is your personal favorite dynamic (friendship or relationship) when it comes to Kyle? Michael Trevino: I’m going to say that I want to see more Kyle and Isobel. I think that Isobel brings out a different side of Kyle whenever they’re in scenes or have interactions with one another. I’d like to lean more into that storyline for whatever it may be, I just want them to have more interaction because I think Kyle acts a different way around her. She’s just such a big ball of energy, so I think that would be fantastic and I would want to see more of that.

I know you’re probably not going to be able to give me too much on this, but I have to ask you, what was your reaction when you read the scripts for season four? Michael Trevino: Well, my reaction is a kind of going off of my last answer, Kyle ends up having more storyline with Isobel and it’s nice to see that play out. And so far, it’s been refreshing to see them in scenes together. I will tease this: so far in season four, the scenes that are with Kyle and Isobel have a comedic feeling to them. I feel like their scenes are fun and funny to shoot, but there’s a comedic element to it.

Is there any other show that you are personally a fan of and would like to see Roswell, New Mexico do a crossover with? Michael Trevino: Oh damn, that’s a great question. Off the top of my head, we’re gonna have a Roswell, New Mexico and The X-Files crossover event. This episode is going to air right after the Super Bowl and millions of people are going to watch it. It’s going to be Scully and Mulder pulling up to Roswell, New Mexico and Kyle will be there to greet them.

Is there a memory that sticks out to you as a memorable moment from filming season three? Michael Trevino: Oh gosh, it’s our season finale, it has to be our season finale. I can’t give away too much, but like I said about as far as Avengers assembling, it’s those scenes when we’re all on set together. It’s the season finale, we’re in Santa Fe in the middle of February and March, it’s freezing, it’s like 10 degrees outside, we’re getting the exterior night shoots that we need, and we’re all in. It’s not even just the cast, it’s the crew, it’s everybody. We’re just trying to get the final shot done of the season and we are working against all the elements. It’s a bit chaotic but it’s organized — organized chaos, that’s what it is. Those feelings are you got to get the job done and that’s what we do. I mean, we all know Jones is the big bad and everybody’s gonna have to get involved to take care of him and we see that in our last episode. Those scenes are really fun to shoot. They were challenging but I think it’s gonna come together well and it’ll be a strong finish for us.

If you could create a tagline or a phrase of your own to describe Kyle as a character, what would you pick? Michael Trevino: Kyle Valenti: I’m there if you need me.

#michael trevino #kyle valenti #rnm cast interviews #rnm spoilers #rnm 3x09 #roswell new mexico s3 #roswell new mexico #roswell new mexico s2

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scullydubois · 4 years ago

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memory-bound: a revival one-shot

Set between Rm9sbG93ZXJz & My Struggle IV, Scully moves back into the Unremarkable House after her smart home burns down and returns to an age-old ritual: coloring her hair.

T, 1.8k, fluff/domestic fluff, read on ao3 here.

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

Lamp light casts shadows on the wall as Scully unpacks in a place she never thought she’d find herself again: the master bedroom she and Mulder shared for almost a decade. She lays her remaining clothes on the tribal-patterned bedspread and smirks at how little the room has changed. She expected to be put up in the guest room and was perfectly fine with that. They had rarely gotten any use out of it--she figured an inhabitant would do it some good. Imagine her shock, then, when Mulder told her he hadn’t slept in “their” room since she left. That the room was all hers.

It shouldn’t have surprised her that after a decade of a bed, he returned to what he knew upon losing what he had known. He swapped the couch he slept on for seven years for a Barcalounger. An old man needs his amenities, he joked while showing her its heat and massage functions. And she felt a gnawing in the pit of her stomach, the mark of a fool.

She salvaged what she could from the fire, but most of her Bethesda things were ruined. That soulless smart house was never worth its automated thermostat system, let alone any of its other data mines disguised as gizmos. Mulder hated it--hated it, like, wouldn’t step foot in it, and if she’s being honest, that was the only selling point for her: the shelter it offered from his incessant search for truth & his unsatisfiable conscience. This was back when she felt like that was something she needed to get away from, of course. She had wanted to settle somewhere and mean it. Now, she realizes they were settled all along.

She rests a pile of folded clothes in the crook of her arm and pulls open her old dresser. She envisioned cobwebs--maybe even a whole family of spiders--in there, but instead, a ratty New York Knicks t-shirt greets her. And a Spaceship Earth one under that, and a Wile E. Coyote one under that. Her holy trinity of Mulder t-shirts. She refused to take them when she left, though he insisted. And in protest, he hadn’t worn them. She knows this instinctively, though the lack of laundry scent confirms it. They’ve been waiting in this drawer all along, captives to Mulder’s fantasy that one day she would open it again.

Scully squeezes her eyes shut, slips the pile in next to the shirts, slams the drawer, and grabs her toiletries bag off the bed, striding into the bathroom. She can’t dwell...she can’t. She’s learned by now that regret is a state of mind that freezes her up, and there’s no being frozen, not any more.

Unzipping the bag, she lines her various products along the counter. Age-defying this, anti-aging that...sunscreen is really the only thing that’s done her any good. That, and hair dye. She keeps the others around for show.

Speaking of...she pokes at her roots, scouring the mirror for signs that yes, she could theoretically be a grandma--and she can’t say for certain that she isn’t--but to her knowledge, she’s not, and as long as no one calls her Grandma, she won’t accept the title.

She won’t accept the gray hairs, either. One day, sure, but not yet. Mulder’s not even gone gray yet, and he has years on her. She’s told him that he would look great, and that the silver fox nickname would be nothing short of perfection, but he swears that he just hasn’t lost his “natural luster” yet, that he’ll embrace the gray when (if!) it comes.

Scully’s not been so lucky, though it doesn’t show. She’s been coloring her hair every three weeks since she was twenty-eight to keep the ravishing red. She’ll never forget when Mulder realized it wasn’t her natural color...the way his eyes widened as he moved between her legs…

It’s not as if he didn’t know; her mousy auburn had been on full display when they first met, and yet he’d gotten so used to seeing her as she is that it slipped his mind that she hadn’t always been that way. And once they moved in together--in this very bathroom, actually--he loved to help her with the coloring process, was as fascinated by it as the prospect of alien-human hybrids.

She chooses the tube of Rock it Like a Redhead dye from her product line-up, looks at her reflection. It’s been five--no, six--nearing seven--years since she performed this ritual in this room. She glances down, and sure enough, the tile still bears a rust-colored stain from one of her sessions gone wrong. It makes her smile...she has a history here. They have a history here.

She sighs. For old time’s sake, she might as well...she’s found herself thinking that a lot lately.

Her old robe--her usual attire for the occasion--fell victim to the fire, but she’s got a good substitute in mind. She pads back into the bedroom and plucks the Wile E. Coyote shirt from the drawer. It’s black, hopefully that will hide any stains. Her slacks are too damn expensive to risk an accident, so she briefly considers stripping to her panties before settling on a pair of gym shorts.

Her get-up in place, she grabs a few clips from her bag and pins her hair up in four sections. This is one of the reasons she got her chop; her long hair was sexy, but it was a bitch trying to cover all those layers. Plus, Mulder is fond of “the Scully shag” as he calls it, though she corrects him every time (it’s not a shag Mulder, it’s a bob!). It reminds him of their firsts, she imagines. It’s almost as if the longer her hair got, the further apart they drifted. And once they were okay again, it was imperative that she bear her neck to him...show him the place where his lips should land.

She decides to stand in the shower (water off, of course) so any mess can be rinsed away. She wonders, suddenly, if the square mirror they used to keep is still suctioned to the glass interior. It’ll be hard to do this alone if it’s not.

She peeks in, and it’s not there, and that must be the only thing in this house Mulder has moved. Figures. She slips off her shoes and grabs the applicator and dye tube. She’ll do the best she can, then use the bathroom mirror to make any touch-ups.

Scully steps into the shower. Its characteristic lemon scent is gone, and that makes her sad. It used to be a welcome change from the antiseptic hospital smell she dealt with all day. Wielding her tools, she starts at her roots, spreading the dye along her scalp with expert precision. Surely this counts as a workout--it takes a lot of energy to hold your arms over your head for this long. Will her Fitbit calculate how many calories she’s burning, she wonders?

She’s just started a new strand when a gentle rap echoes through the wall.

“Scully?” Mulder’s voice rings from outside the bedroom. She pulled the door slightly shut when she entered.

“Come in!” she calls. “In the bathroom.”

She hears footsteps in the adjacent room, then a hesitant breath as Mulder pauses at the doorway. “Are you decent?”

Scully looks down at herself. What a picture. “I’m in a Wile E. Coyote t-shirt and gym shorts. Does that answer your question?”

Mulder shuffles in, smirking at the sight of her through the open shower door. “What are you doing?”

She points to the crown of her head--which is already well within his field of vision--so she’s not sure why he needed to ask the question.

“Well, I see that,” Mulder concedes, “but I mean, why are you hunched over in here like you’re hoping to grow a third arm?”

Scully shrugs. “A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.”

“That’s just as lame as ‘boys will be boys,’ and you know it,” he counters, remembering a spirited lecture she once gave him on the misogynist undertones of the phrase. Scully smirks. They had that conversation years ago...post-William, pre-Bahamas. She’s surprised that it stuck with him.

She tilts her chin in a way that makes Mulder certain she’d have her hands on her hips if they weren’t occupied. “What do you suggest?” she challenges.

“Let me help you,” he proposes before she can launch a protest. His sneaker’s rubber sole meets the shower tile as he slips in beside her. The wall is cold against her elbow as she scoots back to make room for him.

“I’m fine. I’ve been doing this on my own for years, and I was long before you.”

“But now you have me,” he professes. “Here. Right now,” he clarifies, not meaning to label their as-yet undefined relationship status.

Their eyes meet, and Scully’s hit with the last time the two of them were in here--her legs around his waist, his hands sliding through her hair, droplets that couldn’t be placed as shower water, sweat, or tears. Her spine straightens against the very wall where she was pinned. Times change, yet they don’t. History repeats itself in a slightly different key.

“When I was younger, I did this because I liked the color,” she tells him, finishing a section and lowering her hands. “Now, I do it out of necessity. It’s sad, Mulder.” She juts her lower lip out in a faux pout. “We’re getting old.”

He would hug her, but he’d mess up her hair and it would be a whole thing. “Hey, I’ll be pushing your wheelchair with my wheelchair, remember?” he says, taking her slip into sentimentality as permission.

Scully nods, the delicate memories of years past bringing a slight frown to her face.

“Can you do me a favor?” she asks, raising to her tiptoes, then lowering again. Her eyes twinkle.

“Of course.”

She offers him the tube of dye, looks up at him with a smile.

“Can you get right here?” She points to a spot right above her temple, one she could definitely reach herself if she wanted to.

Mulder admires her. His woman, back in his old t-shirt and all. He plants his lips on her temple, breathing her in. No matter what she says about aging or being old, he’ll never believe her. She is as she was back then: the only semblance of peace he’s ever known.

He pulls away to meet her gaze, his voice warm and smooth. “Is that about where you want it?”

Scully grins. “Yes, that’s perfect.”

#this might be the only revival fic i ever write & i really enjoyed it #a chance to reflect and take a trip down memory lane <3 #the x-files #txf #txf fic #mine #todayinfic

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baronessblixen · 4 years ago

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Prompt: fluffy mulder and scully doing domestic chores (maybe set during the iwtb era). Love your fics 🥰

This ended up being set in season 7, after “Millennium”. Tagging @today-in-fic and @xffictober

Fictober Day 9

Mrs. Scully inviting Mulder over for Sunday dinner is not unheard of. Him showing up, however, is a rarity. On their way over to her house, Mulder glances at Scully, always stealthily, trying to find the right words to ask what he so desperately wants to know.

What are they? Are they boyfriend and girlfriend now?

But, as so often when it comes to matters of his heart, and their relationship, he keeps his mouth shut. The right words just never manifest. To Mrs. Scully, it doesn’t matter. He is Fox, Dana’s partner. As far as he can tell, her mother has no idea their relationship has changed. Or not changed, per se, but shifted. In many ways, he is glad he doesn’t have to explain himself or change his behavior. He wouldn’t even know where to begin.

“So, how’s work?” Mrs. Scully is making conversation. She’s smiling a lot, at him, too, and he is beginning to wonder if maybe Scully has let something slip after all. What would she have said? Mulder and I have kissed. Mulder and I have – no, she wouldn’t have told her mother that.

Or would she?

“Fox, you’re not eating.”

“Oh, I was… well, um.” He glances at Scully, hoping she’ll save him. After all, he’s been distracted because of her. His mind is a bucket full of unspoken sentiments, ready to tip over at any given moment. He shouldn’t have said yes to coming with. “It’s really good, Mrs. Scully. I’m savoring it.” He colors brightly and out of the corner of his eye, he sees Scully stuff a potato into her mouth to disguise her grin.

“You can call me Maggie, Fox. We’ve known each other long enough, haven’t we? Leave some room for dessert you two. I made pie.”

“I love pie,” Mulder says truthfully.

“Well then eat up so we can have some!”

After dinner, and after the spectacular pie, Mulder is not sure he can work the next day. His stomach full, his mind quiet, he is lounging on Mrs. Scully’s couch, watching his Scully. Her eyes are smaller than usual, exhaustion catching up with her, but her cheeks are rosy and there’s a soft smile playing around her lips. He realizes that this is what she looks like when she’s content, not a care in the world. And he’s lucky enough to be here, to witness it.

“I’m going to do the dishes, you two just-“

“No, Mom,” Scully interjects, getting up. “Mulder and I will do the dishes. You sit and relax for once.” The two women hug quickly and Mulder, like a dutiful puppy, follows Scully into the kitchen.

“Do you want to wash or dry?”

“Huh?”

“Teamwork, Mulder. Do you want to be in charge of washing or drying the dishes?”

“Which one do you hate more?”

“Washing,” she says and scrunches up her nose.

“Then I’ll wash.”

They stand close together, hip to hip, and work silently, effortlessly. “We’re good at this, huh?” Mulder says and can’t quite suppress his surprise.

“It’s not rocket science, Mulder,” Scully replies, but there’s humor in her voice. She bumps his hip with hers and gives him a huge grin. He wants more of this Scully, of Sunday dinner at her mom’s Scully. “Do I have something on my face? You’re staring at me.”

“You’re beautiful,” he says simply.

“Mulder,” Scully murmurs, taking a wet plate from him, their fingers brushing.

“Did you tell your mom about us?”

“No,” she says, sounding surprised. “I didn’t know- we haven’t discussed anything and…,” she trails off and puts the now dry plate on the kitchen counter.

“Should we discuss it?” He asks, watching her intently.

“Probably.”

“Scully, I hope you know that-“

“Are you two done yet?” They jump apart, and a plate almost slips through Mulder’s fingers. He catches it just in time, panting heavily. “Oh, I didn’t mean to startle you! You’ve just been gone a while. Take your time.” And then she does it: she winks at them before she walks out of the kitchen, leaving them in stunned silence.

“Did your mother just…”

“Wink at us? Yes.”

“I guess she’s put two and two together.”

“Mulder, we’ve barely put two and two together.”

“Well,” he says, moving closer to her again. “We have definitely put certain parts of us together.”

“Mulder?”

“Yeah?”

“Let’s just finish the dishes.”

“You don’t want to talk about us,” he says, trying to swallow his disappointment.

“I don’t want to talk about it in my mom’s kitchen.”

“She obviously knows.”

“That’s not the point.” But what is the point? he wonders. They continue working silently; wash, dry and repeat. When they’re down to the last plate, Mulder flicks some dishwater at her, just to tease her.

“What are you doing?” she asks, staring at her blouse. Boy is he happy that she decided to wear white today. He flicks some more water at her, grinning at the wet spot right by her breast, revealing the contours of her bra underneath.

“Mulder,” she says warningly.

“I’m not doing anything,” he says. “I’m just doing the dishes.” Before he knows what’s happening, Scully has scooped up a fair amount of water in her hands and splashes it at him. He gasps, too shocked to react. “You really shouldn’t have done that.” He reaches for an empty glass and starts filling it up with water.

“That’s not fair, Mulder,” Scully says, backing away slowly, never taking her eyes off him. That’s until she starts to slip on the floor.

“Fuck, Scully!” He reaches for her just in time but slips himself on the small puddle of dishwater on the ground. There’s a squeak, a scream and then he finds himself on his back, with Scully on top.

“Mulder, are you all right?” she asks him, her face close to his.

“I think- I think so. Are you?”

“I’m fine,” she assures him, stroking his cheek. “You broke my fall.” Mulder thinks that this is the perfect moment to kiss her again, to say what he needs to say without using any words.

“What are you two doing on the floor?” Or maybe it’s not the perfect moment at all. They both turn towards the door where Mrs. Scully is standing, hands on her hips, torn between amusement and anger.

“I slipped,” Scully says.

“I did, too.”

“As happy as I am that you’re finally a couple, this,” she gestures at them still laying on the floor, her daughter on top of him, “this is unacceptable. Please get up and join me in the living room.”

“Scully, why do I suddenly feel like a 16-year-old who is about to get yelled at and get a lecture about safe sex?”

She chuckles and moves off of him, reaching for his hand once she’s standing. “That might happen.”

“Hey? Whatever happens, I- I’m glad I came here today. Even if your mom saw us do… that.”

“I’m glad you’re here too.” She gets on tiptoes and pulls down his head, her hands playing with the hair on his neck. Their mouths meet in the middle, in a chaste, sweet kiss that holds promises for later.

“Worth it,” Mulder mumbles against her lips and Scully doesn’t disagree.

#fictober2020 #i though this was gonna be a short one #i was wrong #i hope it's fluffy and at least a bit fun #msr #xf fanfic #my writing #my fic #Anonymous

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sapphicscullyy · 4 years ago

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With You

100. “We could... you know, go together, if you wanted.”

Thank you so much for the prompt @bitshortforastormtrooper. I’m sorry it took agessss to get around to but please enjoy. This can also be read for your convenience on ao3. Tagging @today-in-fic

+++

8:29 am 27th August J. Edgar Hoover Building

Scully blustered her way into the office and shut the door behind her, slumping back against it with her eyes closed. She took several deep breaths before opening them again, attempting to cool the flush in her cheeks, only to find Mulder staring at her, concern in his eyes. The bastard. He didn’t say anything, just waited to see if she would explain her strange behaviour. Scully sighed.

“I just spoke to Skinner in the elevator,” she began slowly.

“If it was about the late case report, don’t worry,” he said quickly, “I was just about to head up there now to hand it in.”

“No, it wasn’t that.” She cleared her throat and took a deep breath. “He asked me if I was attending the Director’s Ball on Friday evening. Of which Skinner informed me that he had given you both of our invitations several weeks ago.” Her tone implied that this was more of an interrogation than a statement.

At least he was smart enough to look slightly guilty. “He may have mentioned it.”

“Mulder…” she groaned in exasperation. “It’s in three days,” she stuttered, “and I don’t have anything to wear.”

“Scully, you could wear anything, even one of your old pantsuits with the massive shoulder pads, and you would still look amazing.”

She glared at him even as the blush returned to her cheeks. “I am not wearing a suit.”

“Why don’t you take the afternoon off?” Mulder suggested lightly. “We only have paperwork to do today. I can deal with it.”

“Are you sure?”

“What’s the worst that could happen?”

She huffed a laugh, deciding not to think about the answers to his question. “Thank you,” she said.

Silence filled the office for a moment, then the rustling of paperwork as Mulder collected some files from the desk.

“Are we-” Scully faltered, then continued tentatively. “Do we have to bring dates?”

“I think everyone has a plus-one invitation; I’m not taking anyone, though.” He stood, not meeting her gaze as he shuffled the papers in his hands.

“Why not?”

“I’m not sure anyone would want to go with Spooky Mulder.” He laughed as though he had told a joke.

“We could… you know, go together, if you wanted.” Scully swallowed, suddenly overly conscious of the lump in her throat, barely daring to breathe in wait of his response.

“It’s alright, Scully. You don’t have to stick with me. You could have any man you wanted.” He stood from behind the desk, file in hand, and walked over to where she was still standing by the door. He gently moved her aside as he opened it. “I’ll be back in a bit,” he said, flashing her a grin, the one that made her go weak at the knees every time, and shut the door behind him.

“What if I want you?” she whispered to the closed door, her words too loud in the empty office.

+++

2:43 pm

That afternoon, Scully pulled into a parking space in front of a small boutique shop that she often eyed as she drove past on the way to work each day. She had only been inside once before, and it had been a few years ago when she had treated herself to a day of therapeutic shopping after a particularly gruelling case. She had bought a new pair of heels, which she had only worn two or three times since, but the feeling of buying them had been worth it.

A small bell above the door chimed as she entered. A woman popped her head out from behind a rack of clothes, greeted Scully, and told her to yell out if she needed any help. Scully smiled at her in thanks and wandered along the rows of dresses, running her fingertips lightly across the fabric.

She wasn’t quite sure what she wanted to wear to the event, so she chose a few dresses at random to try on, hoping to find something that would work, or at least narrow down her choices.

“Would you like to try those on?” the voice of the saleswoman behind her made her jump. She had a hand outstretched for the dresses draped over Scully’s arm. “Let me take them to the changeroom for you while you keep looking.”

“Actually, I’m ready to try them on now.”

“Of course, come this way.” She led Scully to the changeroom, drawing aside the large curtain for her, but she paused before closing it. “May I make a recommendation?” She didn’t wait for a response. “There’s a dress that’s out the back and I think that it would look perfect on you. I’ll go grab it while you try these ones on.” With that, she closed the curtain, leaving Scully by herself.

The first dress was a red, strapless number that came to just below her knees. The fabric pooled nicely around her figure, and she had a pair of heels and a clutch at home that would go quite nicely with it, but she was concerned that there was too much skin being shown to be considered ‘proper’ for a work event, though she knew Mulder would most likely appreciate it.

As would every other straight male in the room. She silently chastised herself for letting her mind wander to such a dangerous topic.

The second dress she had picked up was a shade of green that she knew immediately would not suit her as she held the dress up to her body in the small changing room mirror. She replaced the dress on its hanger without even bothering to try it on.

As she slid on the third dress, she thought it might be the one. The black fabric was smooth against her skin and the neckline and figure were modest yet flattering. But as she stepped out from behind the curtain to admire herself in the larger mirror, she noticed the slit along her left leg, nearly going up to her hip. She sighed at her reflection. She didn’t particularly want to be that exposed in front of her male colleagues, especially since she knew Skinner would be amongst them. She wouldn’t be able to meet her boss’s eye for days afterwards.

At that moment, the saleswoman walked back in, another dress draped over her arm. She stopped when she saw Scully.

“Oh honey, you look absolutely stunning,” she exclaimed.

“Thank you,” Scully dipped her head at the compliment, “but I’m attending a work function and I’m not entirely convinced by this.” She gestured to her exposed leg.

“Of course,” she shook her head knowingly. “Here, give this one a try. I think it will suit you perfectly.” She handed Scully the dress from her arm.

Ducking back into the change room, she removed her current dress and slipped on the one the saleswoman had given her. Black, silky fabric that clung to her skin but almost appeared to be cascading down her body and onto the floor. The straps were thin and the neckline was low, although not dangerously so. The back dipped just low enough that she wouldn’t be able to wear a bra, but so that her ouroboros remained hidden.

The woman gasped quietly as she emerged from behind the curtain. “That dress looks like it was made just for you.”

Scully examined herself in the large mirror and felt her own breath catch in her throat. She did look amazing. Even with her hair and make-up having deteriorated throughout the day, she felt as though she could walk into any ballroom and fit right in.

She couldn’t even begin to imagine how Mulder would react upon seeing her in this dress. Would he stop short at the sight of her? Or perhaps he would only give her a quick once over before he swept her into his arms, unable to keep away for any longer than necessary.

The shrill ringing of her cell phone pierced through the fog of dangerous thoughts that had filled her mind.

“Excuse me,” she said, stepping back into the changing room. She rifled through her belongings and found her phone. “Scully,” she answered.

“Scully, it’s me,” he said, as a loud crash came through the tiny speaker.

“Mulder? Is everything alright?”

“Just fine,” he replied unconvincingly. She heard the crackling rustle of papers being shuffled. “Do you know where you put the file on Cordelia Knox?”

“Mulder, you put that file on the massive pile on your desk, which I strongly suggested that you sort out before you lose something.”

She heard more rustling. Then a muffled bang. “I found it.” She laughed quietly even as her head fell into her hand.

“Are you sure you don’t need my help?”

There was a pause. “Have you finished shopping?” he asked tentatively.

“Not quite.” She may have found her dress, but she wanted to buy a nice pair of heels to go with it.

“Then I have everything under control.” Another crash sounded through the phone. “Go enjoy yourself, Scully. You deserve it.”

+++

8:29 am 29th August FBI Director’s Ball

Scully was bored, tired, slightly drunk and extremely sick of the hot and clammy hands of the men who, because she had agreed to dance with them, believed that it was in their right to put said hands wherever they pleased on her body. She had been passed between the arms of the FBI’s worst perverts and creeps for the past hour and the only thing she wished for was a warm bath to wash away the lingering feeling of the many hands off her body. The man she was currently dancing with was no different from the others, in fact, they were all beginning to blend together. His hands sat hot and heavy on her lower back, making the skin itch and boil beneath the fabric.

There was a small, fickle part of herself that thought of that spot on the small of her back as Mulder’s. It was the same part of her that made her continuously scan the crowds over the shoulder of her dancing partner in the frail hope of seeing him. The same part of her that desperately hoped that he would see her despondence and sweep her far away from this place and all the people in it.

There was a high chance that he wouldn’t turn up at all; perhaps struck by a sudden ailment in the hours between leaving the office and the expected arrival time of the event. She usually didn’t mind his near-perfect streak of missing work events, as usually, he dragged her along with him to wherever he thought was a better place to be, which was anywhere else, really. All she wanted now was to be with him wherever that may be.

She snapped out of her thoughts as she felt the hands of her dance partner slip dangerously low on her back and she was so focused on attempting to keep them in a more respectable place that she did not notice Mulder step forward from the crowd at the edge of the dance floor, his eyes flying from face to face. She did not see the way he stopped dead at the sight of her in the wandering arms of another man. How his eyes sparked first with wonderment, then with indignation.

But then he was there, standing at her shoulder, politely asking for a dance and sweeping her away without waiting for an answer from the other man. He was inconsequential now that Mulder was there.

In the instant that he pulled her towards him, there was not a single soul present in the room that they were aware of, besides each other. He held her close, but his touch on her back was light and innocent, his fingertips deliciously burning the skin where her tattoo resided.

“Hi,” she whispered, tilting her head back so that their faces were aligned, noses only inches apart.

“Hi,” he responded, and she heard everything that he wanted to tell her at that moment. In the way he breathed that single word. She heard his wonder and his passion, and she heard his apology. She could see it reflected in his eyes, swimming there and exposed for her to see. An apology for letting her go alone, for being an idiot, and for all the arms that have held her tonight that weren’t his.

And she forgave him.

The music was slow and steady, a heartbeat thrumming in the air. She slid the hands which had been resting on his shoulders further up and looped them around his neck. They remained completely oblivious to the world around them as they swayed in place together, unaware of the stare and murmurs of their coworkers, not noticing how they diverted their attention to something else with a quick glare from AD Skinner. Men came up to them to ask Scully to dance, but they went unheard and ignored, skulking away after it became obvious they had no chance of interrupting.

He pulled her closer to him, and she turned to rest her head against his chest, listening to his heart beating out of sync with the music, so she danced to his rhythm instead. Both of them shifted slowly from side to side in synchrony, creating their own metronome.

She was pulled out of her trance-like state as the music changed to an upbeat song which she was no longer able to drown out with the sound of his heart beating in her ear. She extracted herself slightly from his arms and looked up at him, meeting his eyes. His face was clouded in an indecipherable storm of emotion, but when she smiled softly up at him, it cleared and he returned her small grin.

“Let’s get out of here,” she said, and his smile grew even wider. He moved the hands that had rested on her back and took her hand in his own, holding it tight as though he might lose her in the crowd, and led them off the dancefloor. They wove through the tables and people surrounding it, ignoring the people who looked their way in curiosity.

The heavy doors to the event hall closed firmly behind them and an instant deafening silence filled the foyer. But it was quickly broken by the echoing sound of her heels clicking on the tiles as Mulder tugged her towards the revolving door at the entrance. A tiny laugh, one that could almost be described as a giggle, escaped her lips. They tumbled out of the door onto the street, both attempting and failing to hide their grins.

He hadn’t let go of her hand.

A cool evening breeze drifted down the street, curling around her bare arms and shoulders, so she stepped closer into him, stealing his warmth by proximity. But, for the second time that night, he pulled her closer, an arm wrapping around her waist, hands still entwined.

She tilted her head up and he tilted his down so that their noses were only an inch apart.

“Where are we going?” he whispered, his breath tickling her lips.

“Does it matter?” she breathed.

“No.”

There were words that remained unspoken, but she heard them all the same.

As long as I’m with you.

#so it appears that the more i write the more i dislike my writing #is that just me ??#anyway i dont love this but oh well #xf fanfic #msr #dana scully #fox mulder #the x files #txf #my fic

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atths--twice · 4 years ago

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Picture Perfect Moments

Mulder and Scully attend a small party at Mrs. Scully’s house. (An idea born from an old photo of DD and GA.)

They were not working out of town, or even working on an active case, but in the office catching up on paperwork. Scully mentioned in passing that her mother was having a party and had asked if she would be able to stop by.

“You could head over now. I can finish this up.” She gave him a look and he smiled. “I am capable of filing paperwork on my own, you know.”

“Mmm-hmm,” she answered with a smile of her own, finishing the page she was writing on, and signing the bottom.

“Seriously, I can do this, Scully. You go ahead.” He stared at her and she nodded as she set the pen down and stood up.

“Why don’t you come with me?” she asked, a look of surprise on her face that he was sure mirrored his own.

“Oh no, that’s okay. You go on.”

“Mulder,” she said, putting on her coat. “That paperwork can wait, and my mother has asked after you.” She rolled her eyes as she adjusted her collar, and then stood with her eyebrows raised. “Many times, in fact.”

“Scully…”

“Mulder, finish that one I handed you, and let’s go.” She crossed her arms and he sighed.

“Fine. Far be it from me to say no, to not just one, but two Scully women.”

“Smart man,” she smirked and he smiled. Adding his signature to the paper, he set it down and stood up, reaching for his coat.

“What kind of party is it? Will there be cake?” he asked, sliding on his coat, and she snorted.

“Knowing my mother and her friends, there will be many different kinds of desserts.”

“And you didn’t think to lead with that? Come on, let’s go.” He put his hand on the small of her back as he led her out the door, her laughter ringing in his ears.

His plate laden with many delicious treats, he sat on the garden wall, away from the large group of women who were gathered in the backyard. It was cool out, but they did not seem to mind, their cheeks pink from the weather and the many bottles of wine on the table.

He heard Scully laughing and he watched her speaking to her mother and a few of the other women. He smiled as he picked up a frosted brownie and took a large bite, his eyes closing at the rich chocolate flavor.

“They’re all quite taken with you.” He heard Scully say and he opened his eyes, finding her standing in front of him with a smile on her face. “Of course, once I told them you have a nasty habit of ditching me, you leave sunflower seeds everywhere, and you believe in little green men from outer space, well…” She took a small piece of his brownie and chewed it as she smiled.

“Gr…” he tried to say, his mouth full. She laughed and rolled her eyes.

“Grey. I know, I know. But Mulder, these are Catholic, church going women, do you want to explain that to them? Really?” She looked over at the women and he followed her gaze.

They were all laughing and drinking their wine. Memories of country club parties from his youth suddenly resurfaced, of rich women and their killer cheek pinching fingers. He shuddered and shook his head, swallowing down the bite of brownie.

“That’s what I thought,” she chuckled as she sat next to him and took another little piece of brownie. “I think I’ve bought us a few minutes at least, except I saw my mother carrying around her new camera, which she never has quite gotten the hang of, so… be on the lookout. Oh… also.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small bottle of whiskey. Taking off the cap, she took a drink, and handed it to him. He stared at her and she smiled.

“Why do I get the feeling this isn’t the first time you’ve snuck a bottle of booze from your parents stash?” he asked, as he took a drink and coughed, the liquid burning the back of his throat, and causing his eyes to water.

“Because it’s not,” she said with a laugh and took the bottle back, taking another drink. “Missy and I got very drunk once when I was about sixteen and we were on the roof up there.” She pointed to a flat part of the roof and took another drink. “That’s my old room. We used to sneak out at night and drink and smoke-”

“Smoke?!” he asked incredulously, and she looked at him with a smile, nodding her head. “Does your mother know about this?”

“What are you gonna do? Tell on me?” Another drink and she stared at him, challenging him with her eyes, though the smile on her lips betrayed her tough expression.

“Maybe. What else did you do?” He took the bottle from her and took a drink, coughing again and she giggled, actually giggled.

“I can’t tell you all my secrets, Mulder. Not in one day,” she said softly, and he knew they had crossed into somewhat dangerous territory. He cleared his throat and was about to say something when he saw her mother coming toward them.

“Fox, I hope you’re enjoying the food,” she said, with a twinkle in her eyes, and he nodded. Setting the large plate of food down, he stood up and brushed his hands off, before reaching to clasp her hand.

“Thank you. It’s all delicious,” he said and she smiled.

“Of course. Oh, since you’re both here, let me get a picture of you two,” she said, and went to get her camera. Scully sighed as she stood up and slipped the whiskey bottle into her pocket.

“Here we are,” Mrs. Scully said with a smile. “I don’t get a chance to take pictures often, so… Okay, closer together. Yeah, like that. I’m going to take a couple just in case. I haven’t gotten the hang of all the bells and whistles yet. Okay, I think that’s good. Have fun you two.” With that, she walked away and they sat back down, Scully taking the whiskey from her pocket and opening the cap.

“And she never suspected a thing,” Scully said with a wink as she took another drink. He laughed and offered her half of the remaining brownie. She took it and smiled at him, but he waved off the whiskey she offered in return. One of them needed to be able to drive back and judging by the pinking of her cheeks, he knew it wouldn’t be her.

“So tell me more about this sneaking out,” he said, taking a bite of a lemon bar. “Pretty ballsy with your father.” She laughed and pretended to zip her lips, her eyes dancing. He smiled, as she took one more drink and put the bottle back in her pocket and sighed. She looked at him and smiled.

“Thanks for coming with me,” she said softly as just then, the wind blew her hair across her face. Without thinking, he tucked it behind her ear, his thumb stroking her cheek. Her eyes searched his and then dropped to his lips, before coming back to his eyes.

Moving his hand, he sat back and cleared his throat. “Well, someone needs to make sure you get home safely.” She looked down and smiled, then looked at him again. He nodded with a smile of his own, the moment between them pulled away with the wind.

_________

A month later, he was at her apartment going over a case. She asked him to grab a blanket from the closet in her room, the evening becoming chilly. He generally stayed out of her bedroom, it feeling like her private domain, but he did as she asked.

As he was walking out, something caught his eye. In a small frame, he saw a picture of them he had never seen before. They did not have many, if any really, and he was drawn to it like a moth to a flame. Picking it up, he grinned as he realized it was the one Mrs. Scully had taken.

It was a great picture. He was wearing his suit from that day, and had his arm around her shoulders. She had an almost secretive smile on her face, no doubt thinking of the whiskey in her pocket, sneaking out with Missy, or laughing at her mother’s lack of technological knowledge. Whatever the reason, it amplified her already beautiful smile. He stared at it, then set it down, grabbing the blanket and leaving the room.

No doubt her mother gave it to her framed, and yet, she kept it so, and left it out where she could see it. He smiled at the thought and handed her the blanket, saying nothing about it as they continued to discuss the case.

__________

Scully shut the door with a sigh and locked it. They wrapped up the case and Mulder took the files with him. Intent on taking a bath and going to bed, she shut off the lights and made her way to the bathroom. The temperature just right, she let the tub fill and went to her room to undress.

As she did, her eyes landed on the picture her mother had brought over, her sly smile saying more than words could. It was not until her mother left though, that Scully found the other two pictures wrapped in tissue. She understood why her mother would not have framed them, but wanted her to have them nonetheless.

They were from the same day, but when neither of them were looking or knew she was taking pictures. In one, they were simply looking at one another, but Scully felt her pulse race as she looked at it. It was innocent, but she felt it to her toes.

The other… she had taken a picture at the exact moment he pushed her hair behind her ear. If the first one made her pulse race, this one made it stop. It was such a Mulder thing to do and yet it was completely unexpected. He was a very touchy person and she had become accustomed to it, but seeing it was another thing in itself.

Her mother could not have captured a better moment, and yet she did not see everything. She did not see how the whiskey made Scully feel bolder, the desire to taste his lips so strong, she nearly fell in, not caring who saw them or where they were. But Mulder saw and he had pulled back, as he had cleared his throat and changed the feel of the moment.

Scully opened a dresser drawer and moved aside her sweaters, taking out the pictures, needing to see them again. She smiled as she held them, seeing the care they had for one another, frozen in two perfect pictures. She sighed as she put them back and closed the drawer.

Maybe one day she would put them out, but for now they would stay hidden. Like many other things, it was safer that way.

For now.

#The X Files #XF Fanfic #Sometime in season 4 #Parties #Drinking #Laughing #Flirting #Drunk Flirting #Memories #Photographs #Friendship #Happy

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thatfragilecapricorn30 · 4 years ago

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Kiss With a Fist (2)

This was another fic I wrote awhile ago that never made it to tumblr. There is a companion piece to it but you don’t need to read it first. Tagging @today-in-fic

cancer arc vignette | 1k words | angst

"So, you kiss him, and he doesn't move, he doesn't pull away, and you keep on kissing him. And he hasn't moved, he's frozen, and you've kissed him, and he'll never forgive you, and maybe now he'll leave you alone." - Richard Siken

Ever since Scully’s diagnosis of cancer, there was an (almost) imperceptible shift in her and Mulder’s relationship. He was less likely to argue with her, but also less likely to joke with her too. He was choosing cases that were closer to home and some that weren’t even X-Files. Mulder even had the nerve to suggest that she go back on general assignment, just while she was on chemo he assured, and then she could come back when she was well. Scully was so annoyed with that proposition that she didn’t talk to him for the rest of the day and he never brought it up again.

Mulder had always been protective but his protectiveness was now softer. It made her feel weak. Scully had been battling the perception of weak her whole life – because of her stature, because of her gender, because she worked in male dominated fields. She didn't want cancer to ruin all that she had worked so hard for until this point. She pushed back wherever she could: spending evenings at the gun range polishing her already perfect shot, reading the case files until she had them memorized, running after suspects at full-speed and ignoring the looming figure of her mortality. No matter what she did, though, there was Mulder, looking at her as if she were glass. She hated that look.

Scully’s frustration hit a boiling point when she got her latest nosebleed. They were coming more frequently and lasted longer. She and Mulder were in his motel room in Durham, North Carolina working a case that he swore was a mummy come to life at Duke University. She, of course, did not. They were looking over the files and Scully’s nose started to itch. When she pulled away, the blood was bright red against her pale hand.

Mulder jumped to action right away, getting her a towel, advising her to pinch her nose, rubbing her back. She felt smothered, like the air was suddenly leaving the room and she couldn’t breathe.

“Mulder! Stop!” she yelled to get his attention, her voice slightly muffled by the towel over her face. She pulled it away so she could talk clearly.

“I’m fine. You can stop hovering. Please just leave me alone.”

He rocked back on his heels, where he was kneeling next to her. He looked dumbfounded. She stood up, grabbed her papers and left the room.

Her motel room was a few doors down and she was glad for the distance. She juggled the towel and paperwork while trying to unlock the door, managing not to get blood on anything. She made her way to the bathroom and illuminated the small room by flicking the switch. Scully didn't know if she was actually pale or if it was just the florescent lights washing her out, but she didn't look so good. At least her nose had stopped bleeding. She bent over to wash her face. As she was drying herself with the scratchy motel towel, there was a knock at the door.

"Scully, it's me," she heard from the doorway. Scully felt overwhelmed at the prospect of convincing Mulder to just let her be.

However, she knew that ignoring him would do no good. She made her way to the door and flung it open. Mulder stepped inside and softly shut the door behind him in direct contrast to Scully’s behavior. He spoke as if she was a cornered animal.

"I just wanted to make sure you were alright," he stated simply. He had that look – the one she hated.

"I'm fine, Mulder," she said, turning away.

He snorted, "You say that a lot and it usually means the opposite."

He took a step towards her. "Just let me help."

She whirled on him, angry. "You know how you can help? Just leave me alone! I don't need you!"

He looked hurt at her words, but made no move to leave. She knew what would really surprise him.

She could be accused of thinking into it too much or not enough, but Scully knew the only way to be rid of him was to shock him. So she kissed him. It was a hard kiss: she pressed hotly against him, her hands gripped his hair. He was frozen and didn’t move. She was glad that she had stunned him and that his profiler mind would never expect her to do something like this. Scully just fucked up the tenuous tightrope that held their partnership in place. Maybe he would never forgive her and she would never have to see that look from him again.

What she didn't expect was for him to kiss her back. Mulder's arms went around her and he deepened the kiss. Scully wasn't fazed, she had thought he was attractive from the moment she met him and she wouldn't deny that she hadn't wondered what it would be like to extend their relationship to the physical realm. Before her cancer diagnosis, she hoped that he might feel the same way.

Scully pulled him back to the bed and he landed on top of her. Desire coiled deep within her. She didn’t think this far ahead when she kissed him but she was desperate, desperate to forget what was happening to her, to pretend she wasn’t weak, to get Mulder off her case.

They were still kissing; Mulder cradling her head like she was something precious but not making moves to go any farther. She decided to speed things up by bringing her hands to his waist and tried to undo his belt. Despite her eagerness, her hands were shaking and she was having trouble unlatching it.

Mulder pulled back and stopped her hands from scrabbling against his waist. "Scully, stop."

Mulder has finally come to his senses, she thought.

Instead, he brought his hand to her face and wiped gently under her eye. "Scully, you're crying."

She also reached up and felt the tears on her cheek. She hadn’t realized she was crying and didn’t quite know why. She felt her control slipping and the anger, fear, depression, frustration coming to the surface. She didn’t want Mulder to see her like this, but he still wouldn’t leave goddammit.

Mulder was hovering over her, his concern emanating from him. She covered her face and began crying in earnest. “Please, just go,” she begged, turning away from him, but she wasn’t sure if he heard her over the sobs.

Mulder moved to curl around her, his face at the nape of her neck, his hand against her heartbeat.

"Oh, Scully," he soothed. "I'm not going anywhere."

She let him hold her for the rest of the night.

#sorry for the angst #the x files #the x files fanfic #dana scully fox mulder #msr #txf #thatfragilecapricorn30

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admiralty-xfd · 4 years ago

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My contribution to the @xfilesfanficexchange is for @gaycrouton. This has truly been a labor of love for me because I adore Nicole and I adore Dreamland. I hope I did it justice!

Prologue

Once upon a time, there was a guy with the improbable name of Fox Mulder.

There was also a woman - his FBI partner, whom he was clearly in love with - named Dana Scully.

They started out happily enough, as these things go. He had a job he found invigorating, and she had… well, she had the same thing. From the outside, it seemed like they both pretty much led normal lives. But year after year, it became increasingly clear that wasn’t exactly the case. They could be doing other things: hobbies, vacations. Each other, even. But they never did.

What a waste, if you ask me.

Fox Mulder pissed away his chance at that life. And I’m not saying this to be judgmental or cruel; I’m saying it because I know. I know, because I used to be the guy.

My name is Morris Fletcher, and even I couldn’t get Fox Mulder out of his slump. Pretty pathetic, actually. Maybe you’re wondering how I remember any of this? Maybe you’re wondering why I’m even here?

Well, it’s a long story.

CHAPTER ONE

HIGHWAY 375

GROOM LAKE, NEVADA

SUNDAY MARCH 12, 2000

5:56 PM

The rental sedan cruised westward along the highway, its engine’s roar the only sound cutting through the silence of the desert evening. Dust billowed behind it as it sped towards its destination, which was nowhere in sight at the moment.

Inside, Fox Mulder squinted, adjusting his visor in an attempt to keep the slowly setting sun from burning his retinas. It was getting close to six ’o clock, and according to his source, he only had until six-thirty to get to the facility. Scully snoozed next to him in the passenger seat, and he took advantage of the straightaway to steal glances at her sleeping face, every once in a while the thud of the rumble strips jarring his attention back to the road.

His attention, which he’d expected to be on flying saucers and top-secret test flights, had instead been focusing more and more on that face. His partner’s face, specifically her lips: the ones he’d finally kissed at the New Year just a few weeks ago. Things had been pleasant between them since; downright flirty even, sometimes to the point where he felt like he was in high school again. And much like high school - in his experience, anyway - neither of them had made another move. If this were a courtship ritual, it was slower than that of a pair of snails.

The world hadn’t ended, however, and she’d conceded that. Something new had begun, and he hoped a significant change would come soon. He figured the ball was in her court now, and as much as he hated playing by the rules, when the love of his life was at stake, he was prepared to wait this out as long as he absolutely had to.

Scully stirred and he jerked his gaze away, looking straight out the windshield instead, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. She yawned and out of the corner of his eye he could see her adjusting her clothing, eyeing him surreptitiously as she gently swiped at the sides of her mouth.

“Are we almost there?” she asked, pulling the mirror on her visor down to check her face, presumably for sleep indentations. He wished she didn’t behave this way around him; if only she knew how perfect he thought she was in every single way.

“Should only be a few more minutes,” he answered. “You know, you slept on the plane, too. You feeling alright?”

“I’m fine, Mulder,” she sighed. “I’m sorry, I should have offered to drive.”

“No, it’s okay,” he said quickly. He didn’t want her to think he wasn’t grateful for her presence, especially since she’d come along begrudgingly anyway. “You get that beauty sleep, Scully.”

She gave him a tight grin, and he hoped that quip had come out right. Maybe he should have said she didn’t need beauty sleep? Maybe he should have said she was beautiful no matter how much sleep she got?

Maybe he should just shut the fuck up.

“So remind me, Mulder… why are we doing this again?” she asked, and he was glad for the reprieve of a change in subject. She didn’t sound annoyed, just curious.

“The first aerial photos of Area 51 were taken from a Russian satellite a few days ago,” he said, practically gleeful. “I was contacted by this source shortly afterwards. He claims to have some information we would find, and I quote, ‘highly interesting.’”

“And this is… the same source as last year?” she asked.

Mulder shrugged. “I’m not sure, actually,” he admitted.

“How do you know this isn’t a huge mistake?” she asked. “We’re on thin ice as it is. The X-Files are, I should say.”

She was right. Skinner had not-so-subtly warned them that Kersh was watching their every move, looking for any excuse to shut them down. It felt like the end was nigh no matter what they did, and rather than admit this to Scully he’d preferred to follow her lead and stay out of trouble. But this was Dreamland. Area 51. The opportunity to have access after all these years was too good to pass up, and perhaps worth the risk.

“It’s different this time, Scully,” he explained. “No sneaking around. With the names and credentials he gave us, we should be able to get through the gates this time, as long as we arrive by six-thirty.”

“Assuming we aren’t stopped first by a bunch of men in black with guns?” she asked. Their last trip to Groom Lake had been a bust before it even began.

“He said he’d make sure that wouldn’t happen,” he insisted. “All we can do is try, I guess. Worst case scenario, we don’t get through.”

“No, Mulder,” she corrected him, “we could get arrested. We could be detained. We could lose our jobs or at the very least, get suspended. I can think of a lot of worst case scenarios, including the one where we both end up getting shot for trespassing.”

He grinned. “Where’s your sense of adventure, Scully? Not to mention that enthusiastic optimism I’m so used to.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m just saying, this had better be worth it. I’m already exhausted and the thought of doing a red-eye tonight to get back in time for work tomorrow…”

Mulder sighed. He felt bad for dragging her along, but he’d had little choice in the timeframe his source had specified. A Sunday evening rendezvous on the other side of the country when they were supposed to be back at the office the next morning was bound to make anyone grumpy.

“I owe you one, Scully,” he said.

“You don’t owe me anything, Mulder,” she replied. “Just promise me when this is over, no more talk of UFOs until I get a bath and a decent night’s sleep.”

“Deal,” he grinned. “I know how much you like ‘normal.’”

He’d been wondering for a while now if Scully was only still with him out of obligation. Perhaps she was tired of this life. Perhaps she wanted something different.

Don’t you ever just want to stop? Get out of the damn car, settle down and live something approaching a normal life?

“This is normal, Mulder, for us, anyway,” she smiled. She briefly caught his eye then turned to look out the window, adept as ever at letting a charged moment slip through their grasp. He was glad she’d said as much, but he wondered if she truly meant it.

Suddenly she noticed something up ahead, pointing. Mulder gripped the wheel with both hands and put on his game face, hoping beyond hope there wouldn’t be a replay of the last time. He noticed Scully glancing around them nervously as if she expected the same. But when he pulled up to the gate, presenting the fake names and credentials his source had provided, they were waved through without any problems whatsoever. They were flanked on either side by a security detail, but as Agent Fox Mulder drove onto the property of Area 51 with all but a welcome mat, he couldn’t help but throw a shit-eating grin at his partner.

“See? Easy as pie, Scully.”

“Only took us seven years,” she grumbled.

Seven years plus a lifetime, he thought to himself.

As they drove, he followed signs that read USAF and Nevada Test and Training Range . Most of the buildings were unmarked and, although the sun was setting, he could see what appeared to be crafts of some kind inside them, mostly obscured in their hangars by shadow, their sharp edges illuminated dramatically by an orange hue. He looked with wonder, and could see Scully craning her neck to see as well.

“What do you think they are?” she asked, and Mulder quirked an eyebrow.

“Never mind,” she smirked knowingly.

They approached Hangar 19, the one at which his source had instructed him to wait, just as the sun dipped down below the buildings. Nameless sentinels with guns stopped them, and instructed them to park next to a gate about twenty yards from the entrance. They were then told to get out and walk to the hangar.

Scully stepped out of the passenger side cautiously, closing the door, catching Mulder’s eye across the roof of the car as he did the same. He straightened his jacket a bit, preparing to finally come face to face with his elusive source. The guards watched the duo closely as they entered the facility, and Mulder looked around for someone to meet them, but there was no one inside.

They stood there, dwarfed by enormous machinery on all sides, and while he wanted to believe they were welcome this time, he couldn’t help but take in the sight greedily, hungrily, as if it could be snatched away at any moment. There were no aircraft in this building, but he saw several unidentifiable machines.

They wandered around the dimly lit room, taking it all in. Every machine in the room was silent and dark save for one a few feet away, which had several small blinking red lights on the front, like a colony of bats ready to receive him.

“Hey Scully, check this out,” he called, waving her over to the machine. It was slightly taller than he was, shaped a bit like a large teapot. As he got closer he noticed a thrumming blue light swishing at the top. It appeared to be in standby mode.

“What do you think it does?” she asked.

“No idea,” he replied. “But it looks a lot like Stewie Griffin’s time machine, doesn’t it?”

Showing no sign of picking up on his reference, she wandered around the device, studying it. “Mulder, there are radiation warnings printed on this thing,” she said with slight alarm. “We aren’t wearing protective gear.”

Slam!

The door they’d entered through was suddenly slammed shut. The device then illuminated completely, aquamarine lights blinking along the sides, chasing each other up the sides of the machine like some kind of dubious carnival attraction. There was a loud humming sound as if it were charging some kind of energy. Mulder instinctively felt around for Scully, finding her wrist, pulling her close to him.

The lights picked up speed as the humming grew louder, and while he wasn’t completely blind to the possibility that they could be in serious trouble, he found himself almost hypnotized by the unusual apparatus. Holding her tightly by the wrist he took a step closer, and she didn’t stop him. He glanced over at her; she seemed just as mesmerized.

“Mulder…?” she breathed, eyes wide.

The only thing he could see in the darkness was the blue light illuminating the angles of her face as she stared up at the machine, and the last thing he remembered was the arc of her nose, the gentle curve of her jawline, before the room exploded with a bright white light and they were both propelled backwards.

***

He groaned uneasily as he came to, not quite registering what had happened. The lights had gone off the machine, plunging the room into total blackness. Mulder couldn’t see a thing. He was extremely disoriented and felt a lump in his throat as he fumbled around in the dark.

The first thing he noticed was that his hand was empty: it no longer held onto his partner’s wrist. His instinct was to call for her but his head pounded and he was so dizzy he needed to find his footing, to gain purchase. Mercifully, the light at the top of the machine clicked on, and his immediate surrounding area was bathed in an eerie blue light once again.

He wasn’t sure exactly what possessed him, but he looked down at his empty hand, noticing something alarming.

It did not look like his hand.

At first he thought it was perhaps a trick of the light. It was hard to see much of anything. But when he looked again he knew, with visceral immediacy like a punch in the gut: these were most definitely not his own hands. They were nicely manicured, the skin soft-looking and delicate. Feminine. The phrase knew it like the back of my hand bounced around his mind and suddenly he realized why: these were familiar hands, all right, but not because he knew his own so intimately.

It was because he knew Scully’s.

What the fuck was happening?

This precise thought had occurred to him hundreds of times during his tenure on the X-Files but this time it was more panic than confusion. He touched his face and instead of a five ’o clock shadow he felt a smoothness he wasn’t expecting. His hair was longer, softer. And while Mulder was quicker to trust his gut than most, the reality of his situation hit him in waves, comprehension drowning him in slow-motion:

I’m not me.

I’m someone else.

I’m Scully.

Not in mind, for his thoughts still belonged to him, but in body: which he slowly allowed himself to sense, to feel. He couldn’t see any details: any evidence of the contours of a feminine body were hidden beneath his clothes, which he could now ascertain were her clothes. A faint scent of something floral, maybe lavender, wafted around his head. Tiny knees and slim legs peeked out beneath his skirt.

His next thought hit him instantly, as if the slow-motion had given way to freeze-frame.

Where is Scully?

The hangar was suddenly filled with the sounds of gunfire, their welcome wagon turning not-so-welcoming. He ducked down, concentrating on one immediate concern: find her. Find her now.

“Scullaaay!!!” he yelled, but the cry came out in her voice, and he clapped his hand over his mouth so as to not draw any fire towards her. Him. Himself as her. Whatever. Then, as if summoned by his very thoughts, a hand grabbed his own. A male hand, large and very much in charge. At first he worried one of the men with guns had seized him but what he heard next was the most jarring thing of all.

“Mulder, it’s me!”

The urgency was Scully’s, but the voice was not. It was a male voice. It was a familiar voice.

It was his own voice.

Despite the gravelly timbre and deep pitch, he sensed that innate feeling of trust he felt when she was nearby: the Scully aura. Trusting his intuition, he gripped her hand and followed her, his own little legs struggling to keep up, tripping on ridiculous high heels that already hurt his feet.

“Scully…? What’s happening…?” he mustered, and as he expected this time, the words left his mouth in her voice.

“I don’t know, I don’t know,” she replied in his low pitch. “But we have to get out of here.”

Her command was unnecessary as sounds of gunfire still rang through the hangar. He could hear, but could not see, the men firing at them. It didn’t matter; all he knew was that they needed to get out of there, and fast. He could see the exit fifty feet away. Forty, thirty, twenty… he was briefly reminded of a large white dome, the hum of a thousand bees and the smell of corn crops.

The desert chill slapped him in the face as they broke free of the facility. They weren’t at the entrance anymore; he wasn’t sure exactly where they were, but everything was in better focus than usual. He could clearly make out the words on the signs as they rushed back to where he thought their car was - NO TRESPASSING, USE OF DEADLY FORCE AUTHORIZED - and thought perhaps maybe there was a reason Scully had always been a better shot.

Finally they were racing across dirt, and what had been a nearly-impossible task of running in Scully’s heels was now an actually-impossible task. He stopped, panting a bit, more out of habit than actual necessity - how was Scully in such good shape? - and bent down to remove them.

“Are you kidding me?” she huffed, out of breath, and her typical sarcastic tone felt even more caustic coming out in his own gruff baritone.

“I’m not used to these,” he snapped defensively, clutching the pair of heels, and they continued running until they made it to their car.

By the time they reached it, he noticed the gunfire had ceased, but he was by no means convinced they were in the clear. Scully stopped to look back at the hangar, hand on the door handle, paisley tie fluttering in the breeze. For the first time he got a good look at her- or rather, himself.

As she spun to look at their surroundings, his thoughts were inconveniently critical: why does my hair look like that from the back? Are all my ties that ugly? and I really need to find some more constrictive underwear. It was the strangest sensation to be looking at, essentially, a clone of oneself in the flesh.

Scully, muscle memory evidently prevailing, clambered into her usual spot in the passenger seat, her long legs awkwardly crushed against the glove box. Mulder climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine, tossing the pair of shoes into the back.

He stretched his foot out but couldn’t reach the accelerator, inwardly cursing all of the times he’d teased Scully for her “little legs.” In a panic, he shifted the seat uncomfortably close to the steering wheel, and gripped it tightly. He could barely see over the wheel.

They were parked directly in front of a chain link fence, and he wasn’t sure if escape was even possible, but with very few options left at this point, he threw the car into reverse and jammed his shoeless foot against the pedal, hard. He could feel the vibrations up his leg as the car jerked backwards for a few seconds, then he shifted into drive and tore ahead, breaking through the gate easily and hurtling off into the dark desert night.

Mulder noticed puffs of sand exploding, surrounding them like tiny geysers, evidence that their pursuers were back and did not intend to let them escape. Too terrified to speak, he pressed his foot all the way to the floor. In spite of the danger, as he heard telltale pings against the bumper, he was grateful he’d checked the box for rental insurance back at Lariat.

After several minutes, the sounds of gunfire faded. Either the discounted loyalty upgrade sedan he’d chosen had outrun their pursuers, or they’d simply decided they weren’t worth the trouble.

Both he and Scully stared straight ahead, saying nothing. Neither seemed to know how to begin. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed she was sitting stock still, eyes wide. Finally, ever the rationalist, she spoke.

“Something really weird happened out there, Mulder.”

“Yeah.”

He felt like an idiot; in seven years of unexplained phenomena, this might be the absolute weirdest, and it was ridiculous that neither of them had anything to offer each other besides well, that was weird . Her sentiment hung in the air, however, and along with it his presumption that she was not nearly as calm as she appeared to be.

“It’s okay, Scully,” he lied. “It’s gonna be okay.”

It was the wrong thing to say.

Predictably, she turned to face him, absolutely enraged. He couldn’t even process what was happening, much less his own emotional response to any of it, but he could definitely process hers.

“Mulder! ” she said, now very panicked. She waved her hands, which were his hands, in his face. “ I'm you, and you're me! We are very much not okay!”

He didn’t have to look at her to tell how upset she was, and he knew her eyes were fiery even in a shade that was not typically their own. She sat back into her seat and closed her eyes, putting her hands against her head. “This is not happening, I’m dreaming. Obviously this is a dream.”

Mulder sighed; denial was typically her first response but how could she deny a situation like this? This had happened, regardless of the mechanics, the science of it, whatever that was. She would have to accept it before they could do anything about it.

“Unless I’m sharing your dream, Scully, which I don’t think even we have the bad luck to relive, this is very much happening.”

She didn’t seem to be listening to him, rather muttering to herself. “This is both physically and biologically impossible.”

“And yet, here we are!” he interjected, raising his voice for the first time. Scully put her head between her legs, mumbling ohmygodohmygodohmygod into what he realized was his own crotch.

“That machine,” he said, doing his best to come up with something, some kind of explanation that could satisfy her. At least to the point where she could actually engage him in a coherent conversation. “The one with the radiation signs, remember? We were standing in front of it when this happened.”

She looked up, pinning him with a flabbergasted stare the likes of which he hadn’t seen since their early days together. “Mulder, are you suggesting that there’s a body-swapping machine hanging out in the middle of a random hangar in Area 51? And we just happened to walk by as it just happened to activate?”

“If you’ve got a better theory, Scully, I’m all ears,” he replied.

“What could the purpose of such a machine possibly be?”

“I don’t know,” he fumbled. “Some kind of torture tactic? Maybe a way to make people appear crazy so they can’t reveal any of the government’s secrets?” He looked back at the road. “Sure seems to be working on you,” he muttered under his breath.

Thankfully, either she didn’t hear him or deemed the task of chastising him for his editorial commentary low on her priority list.

“We need to go back there, it’s the only thing I can think to do,” she said, her reasonable tone finally somewhat identifiable in his own timbre. “Maybe they can reverse it.”

“Scully, in case you didn’t notice, an entire squadron just chased us off the base,” he pointed out. “We can’t go back there, not right now, anyway.”

Scully glared at him through his own eyes. He thought he’d probably never looked so stern. Sitting back into her seat once again, she crossed her arms, and her expression evolved into one that he finally recognized in his own features as undoubtedly Scullylike.

“What was that thing you said earlier, Mulder? About worst case scenarios?”

He groaned, and she sighed heavily; it was the same sigh of frustration he’d heard from his own lips on plenty of occasions. The exact same. It was unsettling.

“I’m sorry,” he said, although he certainly hadn’t planned or anticipated anything like this. For the first time, his mind flashed through a multitude of possibilities and problems that might come along with this new arrangement, regardless of how exactly it had occurred.

“So… what do we do?” she asked dumbly, more to the universe than to him. She sounded as impotent and sluggish as he felt.

As if her deflation had the opposite effect on him, he was suddenly so freaked out he felt his hands, Scully's hands , physically shaking. He couldn’t get a proper grip on the steering wheel, they were sweating so much. He saw a little dive bar off the side of the road, pulled over to park in the tiny parking lot, and shut the car off.

“First things first: we both need a drink,” he declared.

The entire story is posted on A03, please click here to continue reading!

#txf #the x files #txf fic #msr #dreamland #bodyswap #admiralty #my fic #fanfic exchange

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danadeservesadrink · 4 years ago

Text

Do You Believe in Fate Chapter 7

I’m Sorry, Is Fox There?

In which the M rating for this fic is justified. Read on AO3 here

Tagging @today-in-fic

“Dana Scully speaking”

“I’m sorry, is Fox there?”

“Who is this?”

“This is Special Agent Diana Fowley. I should be asking who you are, and why you’re answering my partner’s personal phone”

“What - shit ”

“Actually I don’t much care. Either way tell Fox that I need him in the office in 45 minutes.”

“He’s busy right now, why do you need him so urgently”

“Well Miss Scully, I’m unfortunately not permitted to share details of the Bureau’s affairs, even if Agent Mulder has, erm , flashed you his badge.”

“I’ll let him know you called”

“Thank you Miss Scully. Maybe one day you’ll be promoted to secretary.”

“Agent Fowley?”

“Yes?”

“It’s Dr. Scully”

Mulder was in fact not very busy. He was asleep. She, however, conveniently decided not to wake him.

She herself had awoken to the sound of the cell phone ringing, and out of habit reached over to the nightstand and answered. She was used to receiving calls at odd hours, as a doctor there were often emergencies, and she served her time in the ER. What she was not expecting was the cool haughty voice, on the other end, all “ Fox ” this and “ Fox ” that.

Secretary my ass. That bitch.

She laid in bed, staring at the familiar ceiling just thinking after she hung up the call. She should probably wake him. She wouldn’t want him to get in trouble. But she couldn’t help but let her mind wander as she adjusted to the morning glow of her surroundings.

It was strange, waking up in a room so familiar yet not. Coming home last night she had been so engulfed by Mulder’s flame, his lips, his tongue, his hands, all over her. She barely had a chance to acknowledge how when he backed her down the hallway, eyes shut and hands preoccupied, she had known exactly where to step so she did not trip over the raised entrance to the bedroom. Now Mulder’s hands were tucked under his sleeping figure, unable to dominate her thoughts.

She pulled the sheets closer to her chin and inhaled the strong scent of him, reminding her once again that everything here was his. It was cleansing in a way, having him wash away all the evidence of her time here with his presence, leaving only the memories in her own mind. She snuggled deeper into the covers, hoping maybe the overwhelming Mulder-ness of the room now would enter her brain like a magic eraser and wash clean all the terrible thoughts that rose with the sun. But as the window-pane pattern of the east-facing window crawled slowly across the floor she couldn’t stop herself. She wondered how long the police were in here, tearing the place apart at her mother's request. She wondered how long it took them to clean up the blood. Even with the full duvet wrapped around her she still felt herself shiver.

Mulder stirring next to her was a welcome distraction. She felt his bare foot come in contact with her shin as he stretched, and then the bed shifted as he rolled over, draping his arm over her torso, overlapping their shoulders to tuck his chin into the crook of her neck, placing a lazy kiss on whatever skin his lips could reach.

“Good morning” he whispered, his voice still gravelly from sleep, and she immediately felt heat rise to her cheeks. It was an incredible talent of his, to take up all possible space wherever he resided, especially if that space was her own mind. Thoughts of Agent Fowley and abductions vanished as she shifted underneath him, instead being replaced by the feeling of his weight on top of her, pressing her into the mattress, and then his lips on hers.

There were a few things she had learned about Fox Mulder as of yesterday evening, and one of them was that his oral fixation was quite strong. Simply put, Mulder was a kisser, and she certainly had no complaints. After she had practically dragged him back to his own apartment, a move she rarely pulled and was quite frankly mildly embarrassed by, she had expected the progression from kissing to undressing to sex to be fairly quick. But when he led her into his bedroom, she found that her clothes remained on far longer than even she would have liked. He kissed her long and hard, until her lips were red and tingling, and she was panting his name, desperate. He pulled at her lips with his teeth and then darted his tongue out to soothe them afterwards, kissing her just long enough to drive her mad.

Fox Mulder was an excellent kisser, and she wanted nothing more than to wake to him every morning.

She was sure he had invented his own language, by the way he spoke to her through the simple act of pressing his lips to hers. The relaxed brush of his hand on her cheek said “ Good morning, Scully”, the gentle demand of his tongue parting her lips said “ Thank you for last night, Scully ”, and the firm grasp of his other hand on her ass said “ I would very much like to repeat the events of last night, Scully”.

Or maybe she was getting that last one from the hard length that was pressing quite insistently into her upper thigh.

Reluctantly, she broke away, chuckling softly as she watched his face scrunch into a pout.

“You got a call from your partner this morning” she explained, and his pout transitioned into an eye roll. He didn’t change positions, instead nuzzling into her neck. She tilted her head to allow him easier access.

“You answered my phone?” he whispered in between nibbles.

“Only because I thought it was mine. And it woke me up.” She laughed and she felt it vibrate against his lips.

“I’m sure Diana loved that” He was alternating between wet kisses and sharp bites and she found herself slowly losing interest in the conversation at hand.

“She said she wanted you in the office in 45 minutes” He pulled back and looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

“And when did you receive this call, Scully?”

“15 minutes ago”

She raised an eyebrow back at him and took the opportunity to snake a hand between them, subtly grazing his erection. He let out his breath in a low whistle and propped himself up on his elbows over-top of her.

“She said that I may get promoted to secretary, but I guess I’m not very good at delivering messages”

They both chuckled, Mulder letting his head fall so his forehead rested on her sternum.

“And what did you say to that?”

“I told her I’m a doctor and hung up”

That earned her a full blown laugh, hearty and wholesome, and he once again let his weight press into her as he placed a kiss to the inside of her breast, left revealed by the wide neck of the shirt he had offered to her last night. She pressed up into his body, grinding into him until she heard him gasp.

Yeah, Agent Bitchy can wait.

He held her with such passion, gripping her waist in hands so large they almost wrapped around her completely. She could feel the pads of his fingers pressing into her bare skin, fingerprints of fire down her sides. He shifted in between her legs, still focusing his lips on the skin surrounding her breasts, and god the second time is always her favorite.

First times are kept in little lock boxes, stowed away as precious memories, pristine and perfect. First times are filled with promise and tenderness, things Mulder had an endless supply of. He laid her down easily on his bed last night and his eyes were all sorts of reassuring. She remembered them in the low light cast from the setting sun, staring up at her as his cheek pressed into her inner thigh, practically begging . First times were for asking and giving and, yes, Mulder was so good at giving.

But the second time. Second times were for taking.

Mulder is just as good at taking, and Scully was more than happy to give. She locked her hands in his, pressed him into her, and his lips worked under the soft fabric of the shirt, pushing it away to reveal her hardened nipple, which he graciously took into his mouth. She threw her head back in bliss, a gasp escaping her lips. She felt his tongue swirl around it as he sucked, teasing her sweetly. She scratched her nails against the back of his scalp as he carefully allowed his teeth to graze her.

“Shit” she swore, and the man had the nerve to laugh into her tits, still teasing her nipple with his tongue. One of his hands left her waist and moved to cup her other breast, his fingers brushing over her chest softly before her groped her with determination.

“Mulder ” she managed to gasp out, and he murmured an “mmhmm” as he released her nipple from his mouth with a pop. She looked down her chest and met his eyes, and while of course there was still a reverence, a tenderness Mulder could never quite lose with her, the primary look he was giving her was that of pure hunger. Wild, instinctual hunger, a feeling she was quite sure he would be satisfying promptly.

“Fuck me. Now.”

Scully was quite good at taking, too.

He practically ripped off the panties she had slept in, discarding his own boxers before sliding his knees up between hers and spreading her wide. She needed to touch him, so she placed a hand to his chest and another one on his cock, feeling it hard and ready for her. She traced his length from base to tip with just her fingernails and his eyes rolled into his head. On the journey back down she wrapped her hand fully around him and he shuddered as she stroked him.

Not one to be outdone, he let his hand wander to play with her labia, softly tracing its outline before dipping in to brush against her clit, forcing her to stop all movement to let out a sharp moan.

“So wet for me baby… ” he mumbled, again leaning over, sucking her nipple back into his lips, his perfect lips. She whimpered and he took the opportunity to grasp his own cock and rub it along her slit, sending heat flying down to her very core. “You want me to fuck you, don’t you” and oh God, yes, she wanted him.

She found herself babbling strings of “yes, please, yes, Mulder, shit, yes” until he finally pressed into her and filled her completely. He exhaled into her ear and remained sunken in her until she rolled her hips against him. He started a rhythm, pressing kisses to her neck, her ear, her cheek, her lips. Their pace increased and she kissed him for all she was worth while he fucked her.

Strings of words passed between them, curses and pleads and names alike. They traded promises as he smothered her in everything he was, all fire, hunger, and Mulder. She came with his name the only thought in her mind, like a big neon sign that took up permanent residency on the inside of her eyelids, and he cooed into her ear how good she was, how that's it baby cum for me. As her walls spasmed around him his resolve weakened until he was cumming hot inside of her and the sounds of sex that echoed of the walls into her ears were replaced by his breath in her neck as he laid on top of her, sated.

She stayed in the bed as he headed into the bathroom and gathered his things. She watched him pull his slacks on, much to her dismay, followed shortly by a slightly wrinkled button-down and tie. He leaned over her and kissed her once more, and she felt practically dirty laying naked in his bed as he was fully dressed for work. She quickly pulled his tee-shirt back on.

“I’ll be back tonight. You still going to that hotel?” She smirked at his confidence.

“I dunno, the hotel has pretty good room service”

“Scully you’re killing me”

“I’m just sayin', a girl’s gotta eat”

“Whatever you want, it’s all yours” He made his move to get up, but she pulled him back down by his collar.

“And what if I want you?”

Kissing him never got old. It sent the same shiver down her spine, the same pounding in her chest, the same heat to her very center.

“Then you can have me.”

It took him another 15 minutes just to leave the apartment.

#enjoy this SMUT #msr fanfiction #txf fanfic #The X Files Fanfic #msr #Dana Scully #Fox Mulder #sam writes #dybif #smut #I know this chapter is short but it needs to be separate from all the shit thats coming next #oops

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