#mulder can't keep his mouth shut to save his life

[impulsive-astrophile]

Find me defenseless (Chapter 3)

(Chapter 1, chapter 2)

Summary: “How did you get Mulder’s phone?” She asks, praying she’s wrong.

“Haven’t you guessed?” Comes the voice. “He’s with me. Say hi, Fox.” A pained grunt is the only response. “Now, now, Fox, what have we said about using our words?”

A muffled “fuck you” comes through the speaker then, followed by a chiding, “manners! Where are your manners?” and the sharp sound of skin on skin.

Scully’s heart races, anger making her feel red-hot. No one touches her Mulder. “Don’t you hurt him, you son of a bitch!”

OR:

Mulder is called to Des Moines, Iowa, without Scully to profile a serial killer targeting young men with military/law enforcement backgrounds - but without Scully there to watch his back, Mulder is kidnapped by the killer.  When Scully gets a taunting call from the killer, she flies to Des Moines and raises hell to get him back. Mulder’s hers, and she’ll be damned if anyone stands between her and whoever dares to hurt him.  

Words: 1714, Chapters: 3/5, Language: English

Fandom: The X-Files

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Category: F/M

Relationship: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully

Characters: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, Walter Skinner, Various minor OCs

Additional Tags: Case fic, Casefile, Hurt Fox Mulder, Fox Mulder Whump, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Dana Scully Angst, Protective Dana Scully, Actual Puppy Fox Mulder, Dana Scully Would Flip Tables For Her Man Okay, Profiler Mulder, No betas we own our mistakes and cry about them like men

Read it on AO3, or below the cut!

Des Moines Police Department Des Moines, Iowa June 7 0250

“What do you mean, ‘He’s been missing for 24 hours?’” Skinner winces at the volume of Scully’s voice. “Why the hell didn’t anyone call me?”

“The Omaha field office assured me they had things well in hand, Scully,” Skinner attempts to placate.

Truth be told, he wasn’t happy about it either - had only been brought in on the matter himself a few hours ago when the field office got their second call from the killer.

“That’s a load of crap, sir, and we both know it,” Scully responds, not having any of it. Skinner doesn’t blame her.

“Be that as it may, Agent,” Skinner says, “what’s done is done. What we need to focus on now is finding Mulder and bringing him home safe.”

A deep, measured sigh comes from the other line, and Skinner can almost see her slipping her composure back on like a second skin - however short-lived it’s going to be with her partner’s life on the line. “Yes sir. I’ll be on the next flight out. I’m already in the airport.”

“I’ll have an agent pick you up when your flight lands,” Skinner says, taking a breath after her curt “yes, sir” and prompt hang up.

Putting down the phone, Skinner sits back in his chair, heaving a sigh. He’s already lit a fire under the ass of every agent from the Omaha field office, and the local police chief already had all of her people out looking for Mulder when Skinner’d arrived. Every available resource was searching for his agent. The best thing he could do now was to wait for Scully to arrive and keep her from killing everyone between her and her partner.

-

Brady Hoover's House Location unknown June 5 0450

Blind panic.

That's the first thing Mulder experiences as he regains consciousness.

He can't see anything. Why can't he see anything?

His heart beats wildly in his chest as he swings his head around and blinks, trying desperately to figure out why his vision is black.

Ohgodwhycantiseewhycantiseewhycantiseewhycantise--

"Ah, you're awake." He's startled out of his spiral by a voice from the dark. "How are you feeling?"

Mulder can't answer; his heart is beating so fast it's hard to concentrate on anything else.

"I see the little cocktail I gave you has kicked in," the voice says. Mulder notes vaguely that it sounds pleased. "I don't even have to check your pulse. I can see it racing in your neck from here." A chuckle.

Oh, is that what that is? Mulder's not even sure if he can feel his heart beating anymore.

"Don't worry, Fox. The panic should, unfortunately, pass in a minute. I just thought it would be a fun way for you to wake up." Mulder barely registers the words.

Soon enough, however, it seems the voice was telling the truth - Mulder begins to feel his heart slow, able to take a full breath for the first time in what feels like forever but in reality had only been a few minutes.

Once the panic has passed, Mulder is able to register and process several things: 1) the scratchy feeling on his face around his eyes - a blindfold! So that's why I can't see, 2) the voice belongs to the rookie cop who'd picked him up from his motel room - Brady Hoover, his mind supplies, and 3) he's currently strapped to some kind of chair, effectively immobilized from the chest down. Guess I'm not going anywhere any time soon.

"Feeling better now, Fox?" Brady taunts. Mulder suppresses a full-body flinch at the use of his first name. "Good." The blindfold is yanked off roughly and Mulder has to blink rapidly as the abrupt change in brightness momentarily blinds him.

Brady stands before him -- dressed in casual clothes now, a sharp contrast to the uniform he'd been wearing earlier -- looking almost mild but for the manic glimmer in his eyes. He gestures to a table on his right.

Following his gaze, Mulder has to tamp down on a surge of fear - the table is covered in all manner of blades, cattle prods, stun guns, lighters and the ilk. Oh, this is going to be bad.

Brady walks over to the table. "What shall we start with, Fox? Hmm? A blade? A flame?" He considers each one carefully, continuing casually as if discussing the weather, "Not up for talking yet? Funny." He picks up a cattle prod. "I couldn't get you to shut up earlier when you were telling me your profile."

It was a universal invariant that once Fox Mulder started talking, getting him to stop was nigh impossible -- Scully could (and would) attest to this -- but never let it be said that he couldn't shut up if he really wanted to. He stares up at his captor defiantly.

Brady gives him a considering look that shifts into a slow smirk. "Wanna make a bet, Fox?” He doesn’t, actually - not that Brady was really asking. “I bet I can have you screaming your throat raw by the end of the day.”

Mulder physically bites his tongue to hold in a retort; lets his gaze hold his challenge.

Brad laughs heartily. “You are so much like him,” he muses. He’s talking about the object of his anger, Mulder thinks to himself. “So arrogant. So sure you’re better than everyone else.” Without warning, Brady sparks the cattle prod and jabs it firmly into Mulder’s ribs. His back arcs as much as it can off the chair with his chest restraint, muscles contracting painfully as six thousand volts surge through them. He heaves in a relieved breath when Brady pulls the prod back, giving him a brief respite. “You know, you said in the car that I would likely never find a perfect surrogate for him; the last guy -- Rick, I think -- was so wrong I was beginning to think I’d never get justice. But you’re perfect. He’s finally going to get what’s coming to him.”

That’s it; Mulder can’t take it anymore. He’s got to know. “What did he do? This guy -- what did he do to you that’s made you kill so many people?” Fuck. So much for his vow of silence.

Universal invariant indeed.

“I knew I could get you to talk,” Brady says, looking delighted. “God, you really are just like him. Can’t stand not knowing everything, can you?” He brings the prod down again, sending another 6000 volts through Mulder.

“What can I say?” Mulder pants out when he recovers enough to talk. “I’m a curious guy.”

Brady smirks. “Well unfortunately for you, Fox, I don’t think I want to say just yet. After all,” he brings the prod down again, “we’re just getting to know each other. You’re my perfect surrogate,” he mocks. “You’re not leaving here alive, and I plan on having plenty of fun with you before I put you out of your misery.” He shocks Mulder one more time -- on the other side this time, to even things out -- before turning to select a different tool. “We’ll have more than enough time to learn each others’ deepest secrets, Fox.”

Brady turns back to Mulder, a cruel grin on his face and a new tool in his hand - a wicked-looking knife, blade ground to a gleaming edge. Mulder steels himself -- ha -- as Brady sets in on him.

His screams carry out into the grey dawn.

-

Des Moines International Airport Des Moines, Iowa June 7 0600

The agent that picks Scully up at the airport is painfully wet-behind-the-ears; he ends every sentence with “ma’am”, stumbling over his words and refusing to meet her eyes. In any other situation, she might find it endearing, but now it only serves to grate on her already-frazzled nerves.

Luckily for both of them, the drive from the airport to the station takes less than 10 minutes -- if the poor agent had broken the speed limit a couple times getting her there neither of them was going to say anything about it.

“Where’s your ASAC?” Scully asks the young agent as soon as they get inside. The kid immediately points to an office at the back of the precinct.

Scully heads straight for it. Officers and agents alike part like the red sea to let her pass - Agent Scully is on the war path, and no one wants to be between her and her destination.

She barges through the door without knocking. “Why wasn’t I contacted sooner?” She demands without preamble.

The ASAC blinks at her. “Excuse me?”

“Agent Mulder,” she says slowly, “is my partner. Why wasn’t I contacted immediately when you knew he was missing?”

“Protocol dictates --”

“I don’t give a DAMN what protocol states.” She slams her hands down on the desk, making the ASAC jump. “He’s. My. Partner,” she grinds out. “I should’ve been your first call.”

Scully sees a hint of fear in the ASAC’s eyes before he hides it, continuing casually, “To be frank, Agent Scully, we weren’t sure he was missing. We figured he was just off being… ‘spooky’.” His mouth tilts up in a little grin at the mocking nickname.

“What do you mean,” Scully begins, low and dangerous, “‘you weren’t sure he was missing’?” She stalks around the desk, getting closer with each word. “Isn’t it your job, as regional ASAC, to make sure you’re getting regular reports from all agents under your supervision? To know where they are at all times?”

“Yes, but --”

“Then why didn’t you know that Agent Mulder was missing?” She has him now; the fear is back in his eyes. He doesn’t say anything. “This is a serious failure on your part. Now, because you’re my superior, and because I’m sure Assistant Director Skinner has already dressed you down for this, I’ll let it go for now. But rest assured,” she’s in his face now, almost nose-to-nose with him, “if you put my partner’s life in any further danger, or do anything to impede the search, there will be no place on this Earth you can hide from me, regardless of your rank. Is that understood?” The ASAC nods. Scully backs up, satisfied for the moment that she’s put the fear of God into him. “Good. Now what’s the status of the search?”

(chapter 4)

#fic #xf fic #mine #my writing #The X-Files #x-files #case fic #casefile #protective dana scully #sassy mulder #mulder can't keep his mouth shut to save his life #msr

[sigritandtheelves]

I know you just poste but... PLEASE MORE!!! (whenever you can, this not ment for pressuring you, this is to let you know i love simple and can't stop reading it)

💗

Simple

Chapter 8

Other Chapters: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven

M | 3.3k wds | pre-XF AU | MSR, Melissa/Samantha

A/N: There’s some uncustomary angst here, but nothing too heavy. The good news is, it feels like the story has an actual emotional arc now. 😂

_+_

Wednesday - Stanford

He didn’t call her on Monday, after her terrible day, or on Tuesday, when she really hoped he would. On Wednesday morning before her flight, she tried his apartment, but got only his machine. She left him a message.

“Hi, it’s me. I guess you’re not back yet from your case. My flight gets in in at 7:30 tonight, and they’re putting me up in a hotel downtown, the, um… Hotel Harrington. I guess it’s just around the corner from the Hoover building. Anyway, I hope the case is going well, and, ah… I’ll talk to you soon.”

She hung up and tried not to be disappointed. She reminded herself that he was busy, that he was saving people’s lives, that he could even be in a dangerous situation for all she knew. Dana would not be the jealous type: not of his job and not of his partner. She would do some reading on the plane and she would wear her good suit tomorrow, and she would make a strong impression at the FBI, even if Fox couldn’t be there. So she ignored the mild ache in her heart, the sense that everything was somehow turning sour. She wasn’t even sure why she worried. Because she couldn’t reach him? Because recruitment by the FBI seemed too good to be true? She didn’t believe in signs and omens. She wasn’t Melissa.

Dana double checked her light switches and plugs and gave her single, sickly plant a final splash of water. Suitcase in hand, Dana locked up and went down to meet her cab.

—

Friday - Baltimore

Melissa Scully returned home later than she’d wanted. There had been a difficult case involving a drug-addicted mother and disputed custody: a grandmother trying to keep two sweet-faced children fed and looked-after. As she hung her coat and scarf, pushing down the static of her hair and stepping out of her shoes, she noticed something different in the feel of the house. Its air seemed thicker, and not just with the warm smell of dinner. Then, voices from the kitchen: a visitor.

“Sam?”

The voices quieted and Sam called out, “I’m here.”

There were two familiar bags beside the stairs, but she was still surprised to see Dana perched on a stool, slump-shouldered and tired-eyed. “Hi Missy,” she said.

Melissa felt her mouth drop open. “Dana? Oh my god, are you okay? What are you doing here?”

Dana tried to smile, but her lips trembled, and Missy quickly enveloped her sister in a hug. Dana melted bonelessly into the embrace and breathed in deep. So much fear, she sensed. And an angry wad of shame, balling itself up inside of her. Something must have happened.

Over Dana’s head, Melissa looked to Samantha. What is it? she mouthed, but Sam just made a face that said, I don’t know.

“Day,” she said again. “What’s up?”

Dana shook her head, red hair turning to fuzz against Melissa’s shoulder, words muffled into her sweater. “I took the train from DC. It was stupid. I shouldn’t have changed the ticket, but I thought he’d be there.”

“Who, Fox?”

A nod.

Missy looked again to Samantha, who shrugged and then waved her hands at the sisters, shooing them out of the kitchen to talk in private. Melissa tugged on her sister’s arm. “Come on,” she said. “Couch.”

Dana refused to cry while the whole story came out: Daniel (a name she hadn’t known before this) first spying on them during Fox’s surprise visit, and then confronting her with threats and accusations; her recruitment by the FBI; her fear about their father’s reaction; and finally Fox, promising to be here, or at least to call, but then leaving on a case and not returning her messages for days.

“I know it’s not his fault,” she said. “I shouldn’t have changed the ticket without talking to him, but I would have hated to not change it and have wasted the opportunity for time together.”

“You mean your plane ticket?”

“Yeah,” Dana said. “I’m flying back Sunday.” She looked up at Melissa, eyes wide and blue and sorry. “Can I stay here until then? I don’t want to have to explain to mom and dad.”

Melissa sighed and drooped an arm around her little sister. “Of course,” she said. “But you know you’ll have to tell them soon, right? I mean, did the recruitment go well?”

Dana nodded. “It did. It’s actually really exciting. Scary, but in a good way.”

A little squeeze around the shoulders. “Then let’s be excited. Let’s have a beer and some dinner and I’ll read your cards and then we can watch sad movies, hmm? A cry always helps. You can sleep ’til noon tomorrow.”

Dana laughed and nodded and they went back to the kitchen where Sam was hanging up the phone, a little too quickly.

“Who was that?” Melissa asked, eyes narrowed with a skepticism all the Scullys could do.

“No one,” she said, again too quickly, and began handing them plates piled with vegetables and rice and tofu.

—

Saturday - Alexandria

It was a short flight, but it had been a long week, when Fox Mulder finally unlocked the door to his apartment and dropped his bags on the floor at just after nine in the morning. He’d returned with more questions than answers, and a dead suspect, but the case was by all outward appearances (and filed paperwork), closed. Most of the answers he wanted would require military information, but all inquiries in that direction had been shut down right quick. Fox wiped a hand over his face and went to start a pot of coffee: the dinky cup on the plane had done little to relieve his week-long headache. Good work it may have been, but the non-answers at the end of walking in circles didn’t leave him with much sense of closure. The worst was that Diana had set up long hours of stake-outs throughout the first half of the week, and by the time he’d gotten to a phone with his calling card, he got no answer at Dana’s apartment. He’d missed her before she left, and he didn’t know where she was staying to call her once she got here.

While the coffee pot dripped, he went to his answering machine where the number 6 was flashing at him in anxiety-inducing red. First was a call from his landlord, reminding him about some work on the smoke detectors. Then one from Dana, letting him know about her flight and her hotel—he grabbed a pen and paper to take down the name, but then realized it was Saturday and that he’d probably already missed her. “Shit,” he said. Then her voice came back in a second message from early yesterday morning:

“Hi again. I’m sorry to bug you. Just an update: I’m touring Quantico and the labs this morning and then I was supposed to have an afternoon flight home, but…” There was a brief pause, and her voice was a bit cooler when it returned. “I’ll be checked out of the hotel in a few minutes. I’m sorry I missed you.” And then a quick click and the message was over. But what? He thought. “Goddamnit,” he murmured. He had fucked this one up good. She’d been here, just minutes away from where he now stood, and then at the same airport he’d flown into less than an hour ago. But they’d missed each other like ships in the night.

Two more messages played, first a hang-up, and then an automated call offering new long-distance pricing. He took a deep breath and started to do the math on when he could reasonably make a call to California, when his sister’s voice emerged from the machine in its final message:

“Fox, you dope. Your girl is here and she looks pretty fucking sad. What did you do? She flies home late Sunday morning. Don’t be an idiot,” and then the click of the receiver as Sam hung up in a hurry.

A smile spread out over his face as his heartbeat caught up to his mind’s realization. He hadn’t missed her. She’d just gone to Baltimore (and not told him). He could be there before noon. Fox barely waited for the machine to stop dripping before he sloshed some coffee into a travel mug, grabbed his keys, and ignored his still-packed bags on his way out the door. He thought maybe he could still salvage this mess of a week.

—

Saturday traffic in February wasn’t bad, but he may have committed a few minor misdemeanors on his way. He pulled up in front of his sister’s house at 11:48, swallowing the last of his now-lukewarm coffee. He thought for a moment, popped a mint into his mouth, then hurried for the front door. He was going to scoop Dana up, take her back to his place (six hours of travel today be damned) and make love to her until they both fell asleep from exhaustion. When they woke, he would feed her (preferably by hand, preferably naked) and listen to every single minute of her life over the past week.

“Oh hey,” Samantha said as she opened the door, looking smug. “Got my message?”

“I did,” he said. “Is she here?”

Sam stepped back to let him enter. “Mmhmm. Couch.” He was already walking toward the living room, but Samantha caught his arm before he could plow past her. Her eyes were brown and serious. “She’s had a week, Fox. Be gentle, okay?”

He frowned at that, a little confused. “Okay,” he said, wondering if the recruitment hadn’t gone well, if some jackass had said something to her. God knew there were enough sexist pricks at the FBI.

In the living room, Dana was curled around a throw pillow on the couch, eyes glued to the TV, freckled and beautiful and still in pajamas. Fox stood awkwardly a moment in the doorway before she caught sight of him and her eyes went wide.

“Oh my gosh,” she said, pushing herself up to sit.

He smiled, letting the warmth of her proximity wash over him. “Hey you.”

“You came back. I thought… How’d you know I was here?”

He pulled off his coat and tossed it over the back of a chair. “Sam left me a message. Mind if I sit?”

She shook her head and shifted to make room. He lowered himself beside her and hooked his index finger over her pinky, gave it a little tug. Something seemed off, he noticed. She seemed… hesitant, a little less excited than he’d hoped. He thought of Sam’s warning: be gentle.

“I’m sorry,” he said after a moment of her fiddling with his fingers with her left hand: rubbing them, staring down as if she were nervous.

“For what?”

He tugged again at her hand, trying to get her to look at him. “For missing your calls.”

Dana shrugged and moved her eyes to the coffee table, to the remains of her breakfast cereal and a worn paperback. “You were working, it’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have… anyway, it doesn’t matter. How was your case?”

“Frustrating. Too long. Hey.” With that, she finally looked at him, and he could swear she looked afraid. Fox raised his hand to her cheek and was relieved when she leaned into it. “Tell me about you.” He leaned in and touched his nose to hers. She smiled, just a little twitch of her lips, and it warmed his hopes. He braved a kiss, and she responded with a gentle pressure of her own lips. There she was. “Hello,” he said with another little kiss. “I missed you,” he murmured, and he let his fingers toy at the hem of her top. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”

“Hi,” she said. “I missed you, too. And it’s okay.”

“Were you sufficiently wooed by the FBI?”

Dana smiled again. “I think so. I toured the Hoover Building first. Very impressive. Many important men in suits.”

“Hmm, yes.”

“And then the labs at Quantico.”

“And?”

“Amazing.”

“They let you slice up any dead bodies?”

Dana sighed, in mock regret. “Unfortunately no. I brought my own scalpel and everything, but I guess they want me to go through training first.”

Fox laughed and tugged her into his arms. She fell heavily against his chest with an “oomph” and a little laugh. He squeezed her tight, relieved at the warmth of her, here and solid and his. “And you will, you think? Go through training?”

She leaned her head back to look at him, and though she smiled, there was some distant and foggy look in her eyes. “Yeah,” she said.

—

The sight of him in the doorway should have overwhelmed her with joy, as it had three weeks ago when she’d found him waiting for her. But it was as if the earth had undergone a tectonic shift, or a tilt in its axis, that changed their orientations toward one another. Or hers toward him. She wasn’t sure. The feel of his palm on her cheek still set beating the small wings of her heart, but it was with anxiety now, as well as excitement. His lips on hers still felt exactly, perfectly right. And yet, she was afraid. Seeing FBI Headquarters, imagining herself there, stiff-backed and strong under the daily onslaught of authoritative men and their rigid expectations, was a thing difficult enough. Imagining him there, too, as one of those wielders of authority,  who could sway the opinion of those who judged her… He could touch her in a hallway out of only affection and accidentally ruin her.

(Are you fucking him to get a place there?)

Daniel’s voice was a poison in her memory that she tried to shove away. But her recruitment by the FBI changed them, she realized. It gave Fox a kind of power over her she hadn’t considered at first, even if he would never use it. She would be, once again, sleeping with a colleague, and that recent burn still stung. Now, as she rested her head against his chest and felt his arms around her back, she wondered once again if she’d been too hasty with her affection. Take a step back, Dana. Armor yourself.

They both said goodbye to Melissa and Sam. She thanked them for the cozy room and dinner, and let Fox bring her back to his apartment. She was quiet on the ride, listening to him unravel the details of his case. She tried her best to offer words that didn’t want to come.

When they pulled up at his apartment building, Dana felt the tingle of nerves again, all the way into her fingers. She tried to carry her own bags, but he waved her away from the trunk. She bit her lip, surprised by her own irritation. This small gesture, meant with affection, now felt weighted down with assumptions and misguided chivalry. Inside, he juggled the bags and his keys to unlock the door. His apartment was much larger than hers, but a bit dim, even with the lights on. Well-decorated, though. Her lips twitched up at the sight of his fish tank. Fox nearly tripped over his own bags on the way in, then carried them all, waddling awkwardly, into his bedroom. When he came back, he stopped and stood before her, watching her watch him there in his foyer, still in her coat.

“I won’t bite,” he said after a moment, a little sheepish. “Mi casa, and all of that.”

She tried to smile, and tugged off her coat, hung it on the coat rack.

“Dana,” he said while she fiddled with the pockets and straightened the fabric. Slowly, she turned, and the worry on his face hurt her heart. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head. “I’m okay.”

“You’re not okay. Sam said you had a week. Will you tell me?”

Dana closed her eyes and breathed. Telling him would mean explaining the situation with Daniel, the whole situation. And what would he think of her then? Fox stepped closer, and his fingers brushed her elbow.

No, she thought. She wouldn’t break in front of him. She wouldn’t cry and tell him about her mean ex and beg his comfort and let herself be held, she who had stupidly thought he might rush back to see her. He couldn’t want this much complication, not so soon, and she suddenly couldn’t imagine letting herself seem so weak in front of him. So she swallowed and put what she hoped was a smile on her face. “Work stuff was stressful, that’s all. Because I had to take the three days off.” She tucked hair behind her ear and tried that smile again, but she could see that he didn’t quite buy it. It wasn’t a lie, she thought, not exactly—the trip had set off some trouble… which had unfolded at work. “And I’m not great at flying,” she added. “Cross-country trips stress me out a bit.”

Fox nodded, lower lip tucked between his teeth. “Okay,” he said, and ushered her into his living room with his hand on her back. His fish tank burbled and his couch was green. She sat down on it and looked out over his desk through the window. “Should I order us some lunch? I don’t have much here.”

“Okay,” she said, not looking back from the window. “That sounds good.”

So they ate in unfamiliar awkwardness, their noodles and egg-drop soup and chicken, and Dana felt she had maybe ruined everything. Here was this man who seemed to genuinely like who she was, not who she might be or who he wanted her to be, and she would either ruin it all with her neediness or push him away with her coldness. Dana swallowed a lump of baby corn that felt like a brick in her esophagus, knowing suddenly that she had done wrong. She had loved too much too soon at a time when she was too unsettled. Now, she was sure, they would suffer for it.

They spent the afternoon watching TV, and she clung to him wide-eyed, face against the warm cotton of his shirt, while he kissed her head and she convinced herself this might be the last time they shared this kind of quiet comfort. He hummed pleasantly against her scalp while she fought back tears he never saw. They took a walk to a small park down the street, and she twined her fingers around his like they were a lifeline, like they could save her from ruining this.

Shouts echoed on the playground until clouds purpled the sky. Children on skateboards and bikes wheeled home to their dinners, and soon she and Fox turned back, too. When it grew late, they swallowed leftovers and she curled into his bed in the dark. His fingers found her. His words poured into her ear: Dana, you feel so good, while skimmed his heavy palms over her body and she pressed her flesh to his. He slipped her panties down, and god she wanted him to, more than anything. She was glad of the dark that hid the depth of her love and sadness: the crease in her forehead, the wobble of her lips. She moaned into his clavicle, arched against his fingers, spread her legs and accepted him inside of her, all while thinking she could not keep him.

At the airport, she managed not to cry, and if he mistook the shine of her eyes for the sadness of temporary partings, she did not correct him. Again, she wanted to tell him she loved him, but hadn’t the courage. He palmed her cheek and kissed her lips in that way he had, like he was holding a secret. “Call me when you get in,” he whispered. And though she nodded (feeling ripped open, feeling hollowed out, feeling like she’d stepped on something beautiful in her clumsiness and broken it), she did not.

— end chapter eight —

Go to Chapter 9

#i have the world's worst post timing #anyway here's this #a thing i wrote #simple #chapter eight #melissa/samantha #au #msr

[iusedtoknowwhatawishwasfor]

Queequeg's Resurrection

For: Astrid // Berenbos

QUEEQUEG

Oh my glob. Oh my glob. Oh my glob. I think that's what my human, Mommy, says. There was a big thing like another doggie but with no hair and lots of teethies. I think it wanted to eat me! I got away but he ripped out some of my feathers. My feathers are little perfect fluffy hairs on the back of my legs. That's what they are called - look it up. I swears. 

My poor feathers. BUT - I runned away and now I'm hiding. It's very wet here and the grass is higher than me. This isn't like where Mommy and me live so’s I hope I find her. She has red hair like me and always smells nice and gives me treaties. She is nice and soft to lay on when she watches the glowy box. 

I don't hear the toothy dog anymore, so I am going to see if I can move from here. I poke my nose out and sniff the air. I don't smell its weird stinky smell so I think I might be OK to walk around. I want to see if I can sniff out Mommy. I start out with one my nose to ground but I keep checking with my eyes because that doggie was so quiet. I move real slow and then I catch it - a whiff of Mommy!! Oh my glob!!

I move faster but I'm still looking a lot. Mommy's fren Muldo thinks I'm dumb. I heard him call me 'dumb dog' but I am not dumb. I am a smart doggie and I will show him. I will find Mommy. 

Mommy... Mommy... Mommy... 

If I keep saying it in my head maybe I will find her quicker. OH! I hear her. MOMMY!!

I burst out from the grasses and there she is wrapped in a binky. She is all wet - no wonder it took me some time. She is standing next to Muldo - HE is the dumb one. I arf and arf and she spins to look at me. 

"Queequeg!!" Mommy yells bending down. I run so fast I almost fall. It's my Mommy! She picks me up and I gib her all the kissies. She holds me close and she starts to cry. No cry, Mommy - I am here. Be happy!

"Holy shit - maybe you're not such a dumb dog after all." Muldo says and I want to growl at him but I am just so happy to be safe with Mommy that I don't. She gibs me more cuddles and then says "I can't believe it! You're ok." I gib her more kissies. She buries her head in my fur and gives me one last huggie. 

That was a close one! I won't be leaving Mommy's side again!!

SCULLY

I get overwhelmed when I see that little tuft of red hair coming my way. I can't believe it - my little guy is OK. I don't think I realized just how much I love him until now. Tears are welling up in my eyes and I don't even care. I hear Mulder saying something about my "dumb dog" not being so dumb but it fades in the background as I give him more hugs. I think before he entered my life, I didn't realize how much love I had to give - now I have someone to give it to and I need this little ball of floof in my life. 

"You're ok - my little floof." I murmur as I hug him to my chest and begin walking back towards the motel. Mulder trails along behind me muttering more things I don't hear in my still-shocked state.  

I unlock the door to my room and, only then, do I release him to the floor. He proceeds to hop around excitedly at my feet. My smile beams and I bend over to scratch behind his ears. Mulder has followed me into my room and sits down in the chair near the small table. He has stopped talking, probably realizing that I wasn't listening anyway. 

"Want some food, little man? I bet you're starving!" I say as I move to open a bag of kibble. I was still in too much shock to throw anything of his away yesterday. I put down his bowl and smile as he happily stuffs himself on the dry food. 

I sit down on the chair opposite to Mulder and watch Quee eat. 

"Sorry, Scully - I guess I didn't realize how much you loved him." My brows furrow as I look at him. Am I that much of a robot in his eyes? That I couldn't even love my dog? I think he knows how I took it within a second. I watch idly as Quee hops up on the bed across from us. 

"He's my dog. Of course I love him." I say flatly. 

"Hey, Scully, I didn't mean anything by it... I just..." he trails off, looking embarrassed. 

"It's fine." 

"Clearly it's not - I didn't mean you're incapable of love or anything..." Oh, Mulder, shut the fuck up before you get yourself in more trouble. I roll my eyes to the ceiling then close them. "Of course you are capable of love... like with your mom and stuff...." Has his mind left the building? I give him a look that conveys this.

"I just... it makes me think of all the things you must want for your life but don't have because of this job." 

"Mulder, I have Quee *because* of this job, remember?" 

"Yeah... but he's just one step closer to a normal life. You're just missing the husband and 2.5 kids." 

"Mulder, where is this even coming from?" 

"I don't know - our conversation out there on that rock. Am I really the stubborn captain dragging you around on a fruitless quest? I don't want you to miss out on things that could make you happy."

"Mulder. First of all, I wouldn't be here if it didn't make me happy and leave me with a sense of fulfillment. Second, you are not dragging me anywhere. I wouldn't be going with you if I didn't want to be there. I'm not Ishmael or the rest of the doomed crew. I'm my own person and make my own career and life choices." I said, somewhat offended about the way he's making ME into the hapless puppy dog of this situation.

"I didn't mean to imply that you don't have agency here... just that... I want you to be happy," He said, it's his turn to be the puppy dog with the big sad eyes.

"I am happy. I know this job can be hard and challenging but it's one of the reasons I love it so much..." I am trying to convey my truth to him in my eyes. "I was never the kind of little girl who dreamed of her wedding day or had her children's names picked out. I wanted adventure and to make a difference and I'm living that life so I'm happy. I'm happy with... you."

He gives me a shy smile. "Are you with me?"

Shit... this has taken a turn. "I... could be... if that was something we both wanted."

"Is it something you want?" It is just me or has his voice gotten deeper? Also it's gotten about 10 degrees hotter in here. I open my mouth but nothing comes. He saves, and slays, me with his next comment. "I want it."

"You do?" I squeak out. Jesus, is that even my voice? 

"I'm not going to lie and say I haven't been thinking about you and I... for a long time. I never knew what I wanted out of life as a kid. I never knew where life would take me. I certainly didn't expect you." He says with a fond smile quirking his lips. "But maybe that's the best part of life - those things that come out of nowhere and surprise you. All of a sudden, you have everything you didn't know you wanted right in front of you."

"Is that what I am to you?" I can't even believe I got those words out - I'm so shocked. This has been the most bizarre few days. I need to hear him say it - say those words - what he wants,

"Yes - you came out of nowhere and turned my life upside down. I didn't know that I would ever, or could ever, feel this way about someone. So... yes... you're all I want."

"You're all I want, too." I whisper but he must hear it because suddenly his face is right in front of mine. He moved lightning fast from his seat to kneeling in front of mine. His hands are light on my knees as he looks me straight in the eye, asking for my permission. I give a small nod and then we're kissing. I can't believe it. How did this even happen? We're kissing and his hands are in my hair and my arms are linked around his neck.

QUEEQUEG

What is dis?! He looks like he's gibbing her kissies. Only I am allowed to kiss mommy!! I have to put a stop to dis!

I jump off the bed and run at them...

MULDER

I can't believe it. I'm finally kissing Scully and it's perfect... exactly what I thought it would be. I knew we would be so good together...

JESUS!!

QUEEQUEG

I pounce!!

MULDER

Her dog is attacking us! Well... not attacking but he jumped into her lap and is now barking incessantly.

"I knew your dog hated me," I say dejectedly until I look up at her face. There is so much love and joy in those baby blues. We grin at each other and then we're laughing hysterically. This whole thing is ridiculous but I can't believe I finally got to kiss her. I'm actually giddy with it and I don't think I have ever felt this way, at any point, in my life.

“Scully, I don’t think is going to work…” I start and her face drops. “If your dog is going to jump on us every time I kiss you because I plan on doing it a lot.”

Her face lights up. “Oh two men battling for my affections!” She puts on a fake southern drawl that makes me chuckle. “I mean, Queequag does share my bed at night…”

“We’ll see for how much longer…” I lean in and give her a soft, slow kiss until the damn dog jumps up between us again. “Think you can make room for a fox, as well as a hound?”

She groans and rolls her eyes. “That was bad, even for you. But yes, I have plenty of room for both of my boys.” She gently pushes the pup off her lap and places her hands on my cheeks, her nails lightly scratching the 5 o’clock shadow there. She leans in and I meet her halfway for a kiss that somehow feels more intimate than the others before it. “Mulder, you know I love you, right?”

“I hoped, Scully, I hoped you loved me as much as I love you,” I say, touching my forehead to hers. She captures my lips again and I do my best to push the furball back. “So… when we get back… think maybe your mom can watch the hellspawn for a weekend? I really want you all to myself.” 

“Mmm… that is definitely possible.” She makes me happier and happier by the minute. 

THAT WEEKEND…

QUEEQUEG

Mommy is acting weird. Ever since we got back from the swampy place she is jittery… as jittery as me. She is walking around moving our stuff and playing with her hair. It’s really weird.

There is a knock at the door! I love visitors!! 

Mommy lets them in and OH MY GLOB! It’s grandma!! I run toward her and leap into her arms. “Hello, my little fluffy one!” she says and I gib her all my kissies. “You’re coming to stay with me for the day! How about that?”

Sounds great, gram - you gib me lots more treaties than mommy. You say it’s our secret so’s I neber tell her. 

“Dana, don’t you look nice… expecting another visitor after me?” She winks her eye at mommy.

“Mooooom…”

“Just asking, dear!” she says and throw her hand that’s not holding me up. “Just… maybe you could give me some details when you come to get furry man tomorrow.”

“We’ll see…” she said, grabbing my baggie with all my stuffs and handing it to gram. “Thanks again for watching him, mom. I’ll see you both tomorrow.” She kisses gram on the cheek and ruffles my head fur. Then gram and I are off to the place with tons of treats. We pass Muldo  in the hall and after he says ‘hey’ to gram, he ruffles my head fur too. He smells like the woods, not the swamp. I guess he’s ok. I guess I can let mommy keep him.

END.

@xfilesfanficexchange here it is!! I hope it lives up to the expectations of the prompt writer (prompter? Is that even a word?)

#XFEpisode2019 #Fanfic Exchange #msr #my fic