#Mulder's gift was he could meet her where she was

[nachosncheezies]

People like Bill Jr. got all kinds of things wrong about Scully but probably none moreso than thinking it was tragic that Mulder was dragging her along on some descent into madness, when actually the real tragedy was how few of the people she loved ever realized it wasn't a descent.

(It couldn't be bc 1. it's not madness and 2. she was already there.)

#she worked hard to mask it and clearly did a good job #Mulder's gift was he could meet her where she was #I think Maggie knew it I think that's why she liked him immediately and continued to despite all the tragedy that followed #setting aside the way he was right there with her clearly devastated and ready to go berserker on a whole hospital over her daughter #and the unspoken vote of confidence from Scully herself when they found out he was the one who witnessed her living will #'oh he sees through her too. AND she hasn't jettisoned him for it. iiinch-resting.....' -maggie scully probably #i love that relative to the people I knew when I first watched now all these years later i see so many more people #recognizing how incredibly Not Normal this Put Together Human Adult Woman is #this (including above tags) has been in my drafts for weeks thems was fic-readin thoughts #i think i had just started reading AV's henry au and was having a moment over the comments about scully having a recklessness in her #and her self-destructive streak #might've also been incrementum and the part about she's crazy and he loves it bc he's pretty sure he's the only one who knows #also was not long past cancer arc and emily on my rewatch so basically #get rekt bill jr #anyway #notes to self #x files #the x files #scully #bill jr #nachos thoughts

[skelavender]

“Still, my mom is going to imply…” “I know. It’s not serious. I mean, it’s not like we’re married or anything.” Scully chuckles and pushes up onto her toes to press a kiss to his cheek. “Now that’s not going to help dissuade the rumors, Agent Scully.” He teases. “At this point, I don’t think there’s any hope.” OR After a year of platonic marriage, things start to change.

read chapter one of you are in love on ao3, or below the cut!

One look, dark room

Meant just for you

Time moved too fast

You play it back

Buttons on a coat

Light-hearted joke

No proof, not much

But you saw enough

***

November 1996

There are flowers on Mulder’s desk. 

A bouquet of… well, Mulder’s not great with flowers, but they’re all purple. There’s lavender, he knows that, and what he’s guessing are violets and irises. The last he can’t recognize, but it looks like a purple daisy. Maybe it is just a purple daisy? He didn’t know they made those. 

As he steps further into the office, he notices Scully behind the desk. She had been gone when he woke up, which was unusual for them, but had left a note on the coffee maker saying she had some errands to run before work and she would meet him there. It was folded and in his pocket. 

“Good morning,” she greets.

“Hey. Who sent you flowers?”

Scully raises one eyebrow and a small smirk graces her face, a challenge. “Check the card.”

He looks at her with curiosity and approaches the desk. He plucks the card out of the little fork, and when he unfolds it, he blinks dumbly a couple times.

Happy anniversary, sweetheart. 

Oh.

It wasn’t as though he’d forgotten. Of course not, not in a million years. Her gift is waiting at home, on top of the bookshelf in their home office where she could neither see nor reach. That was part of why he’d been disappointed when he woke up to a cold bed. He had wanted to give it to her before work, but she left before he got the chance. He had ordered personalized stationery for her, paper being the traditional gift for a first wedding anniversary, from a store down in Rosslyn. They have Special Agent Dana Scully, M.D. letterpressed across the top in green, with a notepad to match. 

“I don’t think anybody has ever gotten me flowers before.” He notes with a dreamy tone to his voice. Scully has impressed him.

Her satisfied expression softens. “I’m glad I could be the first.”

“Thank you, Scully. I love them.”

“You’re welcome.”

“God,” he laughs and ducks his head. “I can’t believe it’s been a year. It’s flown by.”

“It has, hasn’t it.”

“It seems like just last month we were averaging a hospital visit every two weeks.”

Scully snorts, “Not that we’re that far off.” 

Mulder chuckles, and rounds the desk to peck her cheek. “I didn’t forget, by the way. Your gift is at home. I’ll give it to you this evening.”

“I didn’t think you had.” She mirrors the small kiss and Mudler retreats to the chair Scully usually sits in. If she wants the desk today, she can sure as hell have it. 

***

Scully pulls up outside her mother’s house and parks the car. She’s unbuckling her seatbelt when his hand shoots out and stops her. Her eyes shoot up to meet his, one brow raised.

He’s been thinking about it since Maggie called him to extend the invitation to the dinner. When they were first discussing getting married, Scully was concerned about her mother finding out. She had mentioned to him that she didn’t think her mother would keep the secret, but he suspected that she was afraid she wouldn’t approve of what was essentially a sham union. 

But Mulder wears his ring, and people tend to be curious.

Most of the time he can get away with vague answers that aren’t really lies, but he knows Mrs. Scully would grill him about it. He can only answer so many questions by talking about Scully without really talking about Scully before her mother notices. 

“Your mom still doesn’t know, right?”

Scully knows what he’s talking about immediately. “No. Only that we’re living together.”

He slips his ring off his finger and holds it out to her, “Will you hold onto this for me?” Her mouth forms a little O. “She’ll have questions. There are only so many ways I can skirt them.”

“Of course,” she says. Her hands trace the neckline of her cardigan. He’s about to ask what she’s doing as he’s still holding the ring out to her in a flat palm, until the gold chain pops out and she undoes the clasp.

It would be so easy to forget about it. That she also wears the ring. That their union isn’t one-sided. That she’s as intertwined with him as he is with her. She wears it openly at home, sometimes, but the necklace remains hidden when they’re out and about. Despite that, Mulder, with a possessive streak that he tries to damp down, remembers. The image of her ring laid against her chest, or the fleeting vision of it on her finger for a couple days in the hospital, is settled into its own corner of his mind. He thinks of it more often than he’d like to admit. 

Scully plucks the ring from Mulder’s hand and slides it onto the chain. It clinks into place next to hers. Two hearts, strung together. 

“Thank you for mentioning that, I hadn’t considered it,“ The thought of hiding you hadn’t crossed my mind, she doesn’t say. She tucks the necklace back into her shirt and goes to unbuckle her seatbelt again. “You ready?” 

Mulder nods, and they approach the Scully residence. 

“She does think that we’re dating, you know.” Scully says as they walk up the pathway side by side.

“Really?”

“I tried to explain we’re living together because of the convenience, but she was not convinced.”

Mulder’s hand goes to the small of Scully’s back as she does up the couple steps onto the porch. “I’m not surprised. She always seemed to think we were…”

“I know. But now she’s pretty damn sure of it.”

“You did your best.”

Scully wonders how different things would be if they were… romantically entangled. Would he have fought her mother’s Thanksgiving invitation so hard? Would his hand be in hers, or around her shoulders, instead of on her back? Would he drop a kiss onto her lips on her mother’s front porch before facing the crowd inside?

She steps back and her eyes crawl up and down Mulder’s form. One of the buttons on his shirt doesn’t match, she notices. The cleaner would have attached a closer match, so he must have done it himself. 

Who had taught him to sew a button? It’s not a skill she would expect him to have. She can’t exactly picture his mother sitting him down to teach him. Every time Scully thinks she finally knows Mulder, finally understands him, something new surfaces that makes her rethink him. 

Scully sucks in a breath and refocuses. “Still, she’s going to imply…”

“I know. It’s not serious. I mean, it’s not like we’re married or anything.”

Scully chuckles and pushes up onto her toes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Now that’s not going to help dissuade the rumors, Agent Scully.” He teases.

“At this point, I don’t think there’s any hope.” She rings the bell.

“Dana! Fox! Oh, it’s so good to see you both.” Maggie swings the door open and greets them with her usual warm, excited smile. She takes each of them in for a hug and kiss on the cheek.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Mom.”

“Happy Thanksgiving, Mrs Scully.”

Maggie slaps his arm playfully. “You call me Maggie, Fox, how many times do I have to tell you.”

“Alright Maggie.” Mulder smiles at his shoes. Mulder fucking loves Maggie Scully. She offers affection so freely, in a way Mulder isn’t used to experiencing, especially not in a familial manner. He wasn’t raised with this, with hugs hello and being allowed to call friends’ parents by their first names. It’s foreign to him. She’s been trying to get him to call her Maggie since she started feeding him while Scully was gone, but it had never stuck. 

“Bill and Charlie are in the living room, why don’t you two go sit with them while I check on the bird?“ Maggie offers.

“Tara and Marcel couldn’t make it?”

“No, Tara decided to go to her parents last minute, and Marcel is, well, Polish, so he didn’t want to come back over with Charlie for an American holiday.” Maggie winks at her daughter. “You’re the only one who brought a partner this year, Dana.”

“Mom, that’s not—“ Scully sighs and runs a hand over her forehead in exasperation before deciding to just drop it. “I’m surprised Charlie was able to get the time off, he usually isn’t.”

“I’m not teaching this semester,” a new voice explains, Mulder turns around to face a burly looking redhead. “I’m focusing on research and writing. Makes it a bit easier to get away for American holidays.” He turns to Mulder and offers a hand, which the agent takes. “You must be the Agent Mulder I keep hearing about in Dana’s emails. Charlie Scully.”

“That would be me. It’s good to meet you.”

“Dana says you just go by Mulder?”

“With a first name like mine, you’d go by anything else.”

Charlie laughs, “So tell me, Mulder, has Dana ever told you about what happened at her senior prom?”

“No, she has not.” Mulder replies, tone keen and interested. He turns to his partner, “Scully, am I about to unlock embarrassing childhood stories?”

“Charlie, you promised you would never tell anyone!”

Charlie taps his fingers together conspiratorially, and begins regaling Mulder with the story as they enter the living room. 

Upon introduction to Bill, Mulder understands why Scully had laughed so hard at a joke he once made about the two of them having an affair. Bill hides his contempt for Mulder poorly, with a pinched smile as they shake hands and the occasional glare. When Maggie calls them into the dining room to gather for the meal, Mulder sticks to his Scully’s side and Bill settles himself on the other end of the table, at the head. 

“Mom, that was delicious,” Scully says as she pushes her chair back. She then turns to Mulder, “Should we get on the dishes?”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that, Dana.” Maggie protests, rising from her seat.

“You cooked us an amazing meal, Mrs. Scully, please let us clean up.” Mulder places a hand on her shoulder to encourage her to stay in her seat and converse with her sons, and he and Scully retreat to the kitchen with piles of dishes in hand.

“You wash, I dry and put away?” Scully offers, and Mulder nods. 

“Thank you for inviting me,” he says after a few moments of quiet washing. “I was afraid it would be awkward. I mean, Bill doesn’t seem to like me very much, but Charlie seems nice.”

“I can’t believe he told you about Marcus.” Scully laughs, “That story is so embarrassing.”

“I’m just glad to have finally earned your embarrassing childhood stories. It’s like I’ve reached the next level of friendship.”

Scully snorts. “Right, Mulder. Step one is they bail you out of jail, step two is they shoot you, three is get married, four is buy a home together, and five is learn about their senior prom. That’s the natural order of things.”

Maggie watches from the other room as Mulder tilts his head back to let out a full belly laugh. Dana elbows him, and he deposits a smear of suds onto her nose in response. As she observes the ensuing playful water fight, Maggie can’t help but hope they soon see what she does, what she’s sure Charlie has picked up on as well, what Bill might still be unaccepting of. There’s so much affection between the two of them. Dana looks up at Fox with a look that she’s never seen on her daughter’s face before, one filled with raw affection. Maggie can tell that whatever they have, it’s coming to a head. Something is there. Everything is there, glowing between them.

Plus, Fox has a thin strip of paler skin on his fourth finger of his left hand, right where a wedding ring would lie. 

next chapter ->

#LTWrites #LTW: you are in love #fics #fall into place series #the x files #todayinfic #.txt

[baronessblixen]

And We Go On

Day 4 for the Eight Nights of Mulder: endurance and my prompt for the 24 Days of X-Mas Files Challenge: bad Christmas puns

Summary: On the car ride after they said goodbye to Emily, Mulder tries his best to ease some of Scully's pain. (emotional hurt/comfort with some humor thrown in; wc: 1,134)

Tagging @today-in-fic @eightnightsofmulder

They're wrapped in a coat of silence as they step outside the church, their steps in perfect sync. What is there to say, anyway? What do you say to someone who's just said goodbye to the child she didn't know she had? Mulder opens the car door for Scully and lingers there until she has put her seatbelt on.

A few yards away, Scully's family is still smiling and fawning over baby Matthew, and he hopes he's blocking Scully's view. After laying her own daughter to rest, she doesn't need to see this. If he could take her pain away, he would in a heartbeat. All he can do, however, is be here for her, and follow her lead.

Inside the car, there's neither enough space, nor air. When the silence threatens to crush them, Mulder turns on the radio. Soft melodies fill the car, and he fears he's only making things worse.

"Can we drive a while?" Her question cuts through the tension and stuns him. He clears his throat before he says, "Of course." Scully hardly ever asks for anything, and he's prepared to give her everything. He'd drive her to the end of the world if that's what she wanted.

"I'm just not ready to face everything yet." A crack in her voice and her armor.

"It's okay. We can drive all day."

"My family would worry."

"Eh, just tell them it's my fault." It feels like it, too. He'll do his penance. In front of a God he doesn't believe in, if he has to. Anything for her. He glances over at Scully, shocked at how ashen her face is and how devoid of life. Only weeks ago, the color returned to her cheeks. After she beat her cancer, he thought this was it. He thought they were in the clear. But there's always something else waiting for them, trying to take them down.

Years ago, Scully told him how much she loved Christmas. They were younger then, their friendship new and untarnished. She told him about Scully family traditions and that no matter what, they always laughed. Back then he didn't know the Scullys, had yet to meet Mrs. Scully, Melissa, and Bill Jr. When he pictured them, it was always with crinkled laugh lines around their eyes and a smile on their lips. The same one Scully wore when she mentioned her family.

Today, there is no laughter, no joy. And he can't bear it. She deserves more. She deserves a Christmas where she can smile, laugh, and just be herself.

"Hey, Scully?" He decides not to think too much about it. Just do whatever it takes. No matter how ridiculous he's going to look or sound." Let's taco about Christmas." It's a bad pun, but it's the first one that comes to his mind.

"What?" Her voice sounds weak. If he wants to make her laugh, or even smile, he has to up his game.

"I'm pine-ing for you this Christmas?" he tries.

"Are you okay?" she asks, her eyebrows knit in concern. At least he's distracting her from her pain.

"I'm up to snow good."

"You're..." he feels her eyes on him, and since there's not much traffic, he turns to look at her. Her expression is neutral, but he thinks she's thawing. He can't ease her agony; only time can do that. No one can stop him from trying, though. He will make her smile today, come what may.

"I've got high elf-esteem."

"You're insane." And he hears it. Soft, almost shy, but decidedly there: a giggle. A real, honest cackle. He grins, glancing at her. Tears shimmer in her eyes, and he reaches over the console to grab her hand.

"There's no gift like the present." Scully chortles and his heart soars. "I have something for you, by the way. I must admit I stole it from your brother's house, but I think it was a brilliant idea. Are you hungry at all? I'm a bit hungry. Reach into my coat pocket."

"This is not a trick, is it?"

"What? No." Her eyes on him, she sticks her hand into his pocket and fishes out two candy canes.

"Stole it last night and look, these candy canes are in mint condition."

"I'm not hungry."

"You don't need to be hungry for a candy cane, Scully." The plastic crackles as Scully unwraps the candy. Soft peppermint aroma fills the car. She's just holding the candy cane as if unsure what to do next.

"Want me to lick it?" He realizes the implications of what he just said a moment too late. Their eyes meet and then, miraculously, they're roaring with laughter, tears streaming down their faces. Mulder stops the car at the side of the road, needing a moment. Their laughter dies down slowly, a few chuckles falling out of their mouths here and there.

"Want to share?" Mulder asks after a moment.

"Snow be it," Scully replies, the corner of her mouth twitching. She breaks the candy cane in two, handing one half to Mulder. He's almost too mesmerized to notice it. Scully takes her half and bites off a large chunk, chewing slowly.

"I know what you're doing," she says. "And I appreciate it. Thank you." She puts her hand over his on his thigh. Her face is close to his and she smells sweet and fresh, like the candy cane. "I- I needed a moment of, um. I just needed a moment."

"I can come up with another thousand bad puns," he says earnestly.

"You never give up, do you?" Her smile is shaky.

"Only if absolutely forced to." She nods, quickly wiping away a few tears.

"I think I'm ready to go to my brother's house now."

"Are you sure? We can keep going. Hell, say the word and I'll drive us home."

"I know you would." She squeezes his hand. "I don't want to ask but..."

"You can ask for anything, Scully. Anything at all."

"Will you stay with me a while?"

"No one can stop me. Well, your brother could, but I won't let him. And if you need-"

"I know, Mulder. I know. Now tell me another one. I can see it in your eyes. You want to make another joke." Her smile may be colored in sadness, but it's still a smile, and he helped put it there. He starts the car again, Scully's hand falling from his and onto his thigh.

"What did one ornament say to another?" Mulder asks, trying to hide his delight. He pauses for effect until he can't hold it in any longer. "I like hanging with you." He hears a soft chuckle and it sounds glorious to his ears. It will take a while, but in the end, she'll be okay.

#ficmas2023 #angst and humor #i LOVE mixing those #i hope it worked #msr #xf fanfic #my writing #my fic

[deathsbestgirl]

thinking about how i said once that maggie & melissa probably told scully about how mulder was when she was gone...and i don't think that's completely right actually.

mulder & scully don't talk about those things. when they have serious conversations, it's so indirect. they're much more comfortable discussing the work, sharing some facts & stories. they trust each other, but feelings are still dangerous territory. how important they are to each other, well they know. the longer they're together, the less they can deny it. and by the cancer arc, scully knows what losing her would do to him.

but it isn't because maggie & melissa told her anything. they may have hinted, but i think maggie largely stays out of her children's affairs. she lets things happen, and she's there when they come to her. and i think she knows pushing scully is not the way to go. maggie knows dana, and she will always move at her own pace, make her own choices, share what she chooses to share. and melissa...while i could see her butting in much more than maggie, i don't think what she would divulge to scully would be detailed either. like. i can imagine her telling scully how he was in a dark place, she could see it in his aura, or how hard it was to get through to him but because of what scully "told" her about him, she knew he would do the right thing in the end. it would be very melissa oriented information.

this is something scully would already understand. mulder has never given up on samantha, he doesn't give up on any of the victims of their cases until he sees a body. she knows how mulder is. and he's let on that she is important to him. 'i still have my work. and i still have you' — which to me, is putting her on at least the same level.

when she's back, she knows how it affects him because mulder tries to stop her going on the firewalker case. it's similar to beyond the sea where he showed concern for her personal wellbeing, and she's already told him she wouldn't put herself on the line for anyone but him, that she trusts only him and he returned the sentiment. scully dragged him out of his depression after losing the files. meeting with him clandestinely, helping him with cases. she didn't let him wallow & drown. scully knows he did everything he could to save her, and to find her.

and it's reinforced over and over again. in firewalker, irresistible, paper clip, pusher, memento mori, demons.

i've said that scully was so concerned in little green men when he didn't see her because he always sees her. she always sees him too. they both pay so much attention to the other. she doesn't need anyone to tell her about mulder. she doesn't have to ask. and that's something i think maggie & melissa could see. if they told scully anything, it was of their own volition, not prompted by scully. the end hospital scene in one breath said it all. mulder had a silly gift for her, and only returned scully's necklace to her when she tells him "i had the strength of your beliefs." scully heard what he said to her when she was in a coma. about belief. she remembers telling him she's afraid to believe. she knows he wants to believe. it's why she came back in the first place.

#and this is what gets her through #biogenesis to amor fati #it's what she holds onto when mulder is abducted #melissa could see their connection when mulder was 'dead' in the blessing way #scully sees him every time he's gone #the x files #dana scully #mulder and scully #txf meta

[catharsisxf]

I'm an embarrassingly slow writer so I won't be posting a fic per day but I'll hopefully make it through a few of these prompts from @msrafterdark!

Dashing through the Snow

Rating: G

Prompt: Best Christmas ever

AO3 link

____________________

S,

Meet me tomorrow at the base of the Masonic Temple. 9am. Dress warmly.

-M

Scully had gotten back to the office rather late on Friday after an autopsy had gone longer than expected. Still she was surprised that Mulder had seemingly already left for the weekend. As intrigued as she was by the note he'd left on her desk she sincerely hoped she hadn't gotten up early on the weekend for a case. It was only a couple days before Christmas and she really really needed to finish her shopping.

The Masonic Temple in Alexandria was situated at the top of large hill that gave impressive views of the surrounding area. Last night was the first decent snowfall of the season and as she trudged up one of the pathways leading to the building she noticed numerous families sledding down the terraced hillsides.

She spotted him immediately as she made it to the top of the hill. Wearing the bright green alien knit hat she got him as a gag gift last year he was practically bouncing up and down scanning the crowds for her. His toothy grin as he spotted her made her insides flip in a way that she wasn't quite ready to acknowlege.

"Right on time!" he beamed. He gestured to the large wooden toboggan next to him and waggled his eyebrows playfully.

"Mulder," she said as if he'd just presented her a slideshow about Bigfoot being personally responsible for crop circles. "You can't be serious."

"C'mon Scully, this is one of the best sledding locations in the area. We can't pass this up!"

She smirked at his giddiness and eventually nodded in acceptance. Mulder positioned the toboggan at the edge of the slope and motioned for her to have a seat. She had assumed they'd be taking turns but was surprised when he situated himself snugly behind her. Reaching around her to grab the strap he nudged them forward slightly. "Ready?" She nodded. Unsure of what to do with her hands she grasped his upper arms tightly.

As they took off down the hillside they quickly gained speed, the other riders becoming a blur in her peripheral vision. She felt a couple moments of weightlessness as they careened over the terraced slope. Coming to a stop at the bottom she felt breathless both from adrenaline and the feeling of Mulder's warm body wrapped around her.

"Whoo!" he exclaimed. "Let's go again! His enthusiasm was contagious and she found herself racing him back up to the top.

After a few more runs they headed back to their cars in comfortable silence, Mulder dragging the toboggan behind him. "The last Christmas I spent with Samantha we went sledding," he said suddenly. Scully glanced at him in surprise but he kept his eyes trained on the ground. "There were a couple places around the island where you could sled and she begged me for days to take her. It snowed Christmas morning so we spent all day sledding. She was so happy." He slowed and finally looked at her. "It was the best Christmas ever," he said quietly, a wistful smile on his face.

Her heart broke for the boy who whose world was shattered so long ago. Not for the first time she wondered how different he would be now if his childhood memories weren't forever tinged with sadness around the edges.

Stopping in front of her car she raised on her tiptoes and gave him a lingering kiss on his wind-reddened cheek. Pulling back she saw his eyes open slowly and a dreamy look on his face. "Merry Christmas, Mulder."

"Best Christmas ever," he whispered.

#the x mas files #x mas files writing challenge #x mas files #bingo challenge #the x files #txf #x files fanfic #mulder x scully #msr #fox mulder #dana scully

[contrivedcoincidences6]

mulder and scully 26 for the kiss prompt 👀

Thank you!!!!! Ngl I'm so excited you sent me this you know it's my intention to drag you into my current obsession 🤣 sorry for any errors I forwent a beta for such a short story and wrote it all in like 20 mins.

26. kissing to make sure others know they’re taken

---

Me: God I hate the Diana arc so much Also me: Writing yet another fic about it because I love how intense Scully gets

---

Her first reaction to seeing Diana holding Mulder’s hand was an immense sense of loss and jealousy. She could tell they had some sort of history but she hadn’t had the chance to talk to Mulder since the meeting that morning. The Scully of just a few months ago would have walked away, head bowed, tears in her eyes. But she knew her place in Mulder’s life and by his side.

She’d woken up just that morning with Mulder in her bed, his arms and legs wrapped around her like she was his source of life. It was just three months ago when Mulder had driven her home from the hospital after the incident at Ruskin dam and things changed. He’d been getting ready to leave after making sure she was comfortable but he’d stopped at the door and just stared at her before pulling her into an embrace that morphed into a kiss.

As they’d laid in her bed later that evening, Mulder held her close and told her he loved her and everything changed. Most nights Scully found herself asking Mulder to come home with her, on evenings when they were exhausted or injured from the day they would sleep huddled together.

The incident with the New Spartans had tested them but afterwards they’d grown even stronger so as Scully entered the room where Mulder and Diana stood talking closely she tamped down her insecurity.

Mulder smiled as she entered the room in a way that made it impossible not to smile back. He drops Diana’s hand casually and takes the folder Scully holds out to him. She can feel Diana’s eyes on them as Scully explains Gibson’s test results and the amazing developments there that could explain Gibson’s gift. After reading over the results and listening Mulder looks up at her in amazement.

“We will need to run more tests, of course, but if these results are correct this could be quantifiable scientific proof of all of our work,” Scully couldn’t keep the excitement from her voice. The way Mulder looked at her made her heart flutter and she suddenly wanted to be alone in their basement office more than anything.

“How do you quantify the spiritual? It can’t be done,” Diana said, breaking the spell.

Scully sized up the woman next to her, a woman who had once been Mulder’s partner in more than just the X Files.

“Nothing happens in contradiction to nature, only in contradiction to what we know of it,” Scully repeats the words she said to Mulder years before as they had stood before his mother’s hospital bed thinking all hope was lost.

Diana’s eyes narrowed but before she could say anything Mulder spoke up, “Scully’s right, this could be the key to everything in the X Files. We need to bring this to Skinner, this is leverage, let’s go.”

In true Mulder fashion he began to gather his things in a rush, ready to move onto the next thing but Diana reached forward to grab his hand.

“Fox, it’s unwise to use this information widely. You don’t want to draw too much attention to the X Files,” she said as she rubbed his hand with her thumb in a way that made Scully feel sick.

Mulder pursed his lips and shook his head. “We need to pursue this lead, it’s the answer to everything we’ve been searching for.”

Gently, Mulder pulled his hand from Diana’s and moved into Scully’s space, handing her back the folder containing the EEG results.

He squeezed her arm and smiled at her. “Ready?”

The admiration in his eyes and the ridiculous need to stake her claim gave Scully courage and she pushed up on her toes to give Mulder a quick, but more than friendly kiss.

Mulder seemed stunned but shot her a goofy grin before throwing his jacket over his arm and heading out the door.

Before leaving the room herself Scully turned to give Diana a long look. “See you back in the city Agent Fowley.”

#the x files fanfic #txf #the x files #msr #dana suclly #fox mulder #diana fowley #the x files the end #txf fanfic #txf prompt

[hereforonce]

You mentioned his reasons for the absense throughout the show. What's your take on it?

» Oh I'd love to shine some more light on that matter! Though a little warning beforehand, since it goes with a quite controversial headcanon when it comes to the general fandom's opinion on certain members within the Scully family that are 'surprisingly' NOT Bill Jr.

The easiest explanation would be that he was busy with his job since both Scully men followed in their father's footsteps. But... and here comes my spin on his own backstory and my personal refusal to accept "he's been estranged" coming from Scully in S10E04 Home Again:

It all started in S3E02 Paper Clip when he was informed about his sister being shot and brought to the hospital. Much like Melissa in One Breath the season before, he was greeted by their mother and kept turns with Maggie on spending time at Missy's bedside since he had - in spite of the age difference - always been the closest to her during childhood. There's underlining tension between mother and son for a few years already due to a fallout between Charlie and Ahab when he moved out, which never got fully resolved and has no place within the hospital room from his perspective since Charlie is open enough to believe that Missy could feel it.

He eventually sends her home to get some actual rest after meeting Skinner, who informs him that he had found Maggie sleeping in a chair when the AD came by to talk about Dana's whereabouts. Tables turn when she gets back to the hospital and sees Charlie being present at the moment where Melissa's condition changes for the worst, as mentioned by Dana in the ending scene. Overwhelmed by the situation, Maggie initially overreacts and blames him for the sudden change. Basically exiles him in the heat of the moment, while Bill Jr tries to ease the waves and ends up bringing their mom home while Charlie stays behind with his own guilt.

The next time we hear from him is through a conversation Scully has with Mulder during their case in S4E02 Home, where she mentions having been babysitting her nephew watching the movie Babe. Since Bill Jr's son isn't born until the following Season, it can only be Charlie's, who in my portrayal of him shares custody of ONE SON ( instead of two sons which were seen and ignored for logical reasons* ) during the funeral scene in S1E13 Beyond the Sea. Which tells me, that he tried staying in touch with his remaining siblings.

Later the same season during a Deleted Scene in S4E14 Memento Mori he uses Bill Jr, to tell their sister he's there if she was feeling up for a phone call since he's well aware that their mother's most likely not leaving Dana's side since finding out about the cancer so he starts avoiding crossing paths with Maggie since the wounds from Missy's hospitalization are still fresh. Another personal reason comes into play for the youngest family member, aside from probably having been busy with work, to not come by in person. Since the memories of Melissa's death are still fresh and the Scully family rarely talks about feelings, Charlie still blames himself for the tragic condition change of his sister that day.

What doesn't change is that he still stays in contact with his siblings, since he gets another mention during S5E06 Christmas Carol. Sending Christmas gifts to his brother's new location in San Diego, apparently being kept informed about the relocation and Dana and mom being over at their place over the holidays by Bill Jr.

» Phew, this got longer than it sounded in my head so thank you if you kept reading up to this point. Congrats dearies!

Final thoughts: Given all that evidence, I personally don't see Charles being the one going estranged from family by himself but rather being forced to by circumstances over the later seasons up to the point that Scully doesn't even know where he is. Especially since it looks like to me, that even then he kept in close range with their older brother since he eventually gets him to call back and reach out to Dana after Maggie asked for him in S10E04 Home Again.

#anonymous #» answers #» headcanon: charles andrew scully

[randomfoggytiger]

X-Files Collector’s Edition: Redux II Samantha Was Real

My own personal belief is: Redux II Samantha was the real deal. Of course, I have to be blind to the events in Closure... which is just fine by me, as it was a mess and a half. HOWEVER: for those of the Closure-minded, these fics are the best I’ve read-- thus far-- that deals with the “what if” alternatives: tenderly, angrily, or mixtures in-between. 

**Edit: I forgot the one Samantha story that started this all (Susanne Barringer’s Thicker than Blood and Jenna’s IOU)-- it’s now listed below.**  

xraelynn/Rachel Nobel’s Given - Chapter 3 

““Scully smiled back at him. “See, you and Bill might be able to find common ground after all,” she said. 

After I’m gone, her mind supplied, and something in Mulder’s smile faded as if he knew what she was thinking.

“What was she like, Mulder?” she asked impulsively, and she felt Mulder’s thumb grow still atop her hand. “Samantha. You…” She faltered. “You never talk about her.””

A little precursor to Samantha’s POVs-- Everyone is waiting for the prognosis of Scully’s new chip, and Mulder is trying not to react to Bill. Scully asks for stories of Samantha in an impulsive need to connect to her.

Vickie Moseley’s The Visit (Goss) 

“"Sweetheart, he wants to meet you.  Tonight." 

I couldn't believe my ears.  "Daddy!  Not tonight!  I can't possibly go tonight.”” 

Samantha is as we’ve never seen her: kowtowed, subdued, completely dependent on CSM. She is forced into meeting her brother; and doesn’t have the spine to resist. 

Dawn/sunrize’s Heart’s Desire (Goss) 

“"Tell me, Mulder."

So much conflict within him, it was nearly tangible. He wanted to tell her, but didn't want to burden her.”“

In the immediate aftermath of Redux II, Mulder rejoins Scully and breaks down over his destroyed quest and lost (again) sister. She uplifts and helps pierce his swirling confusion. 

shannono’s Meeting 

“"You took her!" Mulder cried out. "You held her for twenty- four years! You lied to her, you told her Mom was dead, that you didn't know where I was. If she's really your daughter, how could you do that to her?" The smile faded. "I am not proud of all my actions, Mr. Mulder. But you may be assured that I have always done what I thought best for my daughter."” 

This doesn’t have Samantha in it, but it is a conversation between CSM and Mulder about Sam’s visit. CSM explains his reasons for keeping her, his secrecy, and why he’s letting Mulder see her now. 

Jennifer-Oksana’s Going Home Again

““To Whom It May–

To My–

Dear Mr. Mulder–

Dear Fox. “”

Samantha contemplates sending her brother a letter... but just can’t.

Livia Balaban’s Samantha’s Fate - Version 04

“”She wept, she missed me.  She was ordered to stay away.  If she got close they would have killed us.  Me, Mom, her.  Later, when she married and Scully entered my life, the threats expanded to include them as well. 

Five lives bound up in one lie.”“

Samantha shows up, trying to reconnect. Mulder doesn’t believe her and insists she leave. A dessert helps to prove who she is.  

Jenna’s IOU 

""Oh, it's complicated, Samantha. We work together and I just think it wouldn't work." 

"There's your problem, Fox. You think too much. Don't think, just make it happen. I can tell you're obviously crazy about her."” 

Mulder is rooting through his parent’s attic with Samantha. She questions his closeness to Scully; and encourages him to go make a move with her now. 

Mish’s Contact 

"”I raise the binoculars again to find Samantha nuzzling Michael's sandy curls.  James is patiently holding a dripping cone of chocolate ice cream for the child to eat when Mom is finished with the toddler's dust- off. 

"They're beautiful," I whisper, grasping Mulder's hand.  He fits his palm to mine and brings our clasped hands to my chest. “”

Post Redux II, Mulder takes Scully to a kids’ baseball game. It’s his nephew’s; and Scully is further surprised to meet Samantha.  

AUs (of an AU) 

Jennifer Maurer’s Perfect Gifts 

““The man's slow, poisonous smile chilled Mulder more than the winter wind blowing around him. 

"You will give up the search for your sister Samantha and accept the fact that her fate is entirely out of your hands.  It always has been, actually, you just refused to believe that.  You may keep the X-Files open as you wish, but I will not tolerate any further interference in the Project."“

An AU before Redux II: On Christmas Eve, Mulder is offered a deal for Scully’s cure; however, it is for naught as Scully takes up a trade deal for Samantha. 

Susanne Barringer’s Thicker Than Blood

“"We have to try," piped up Samantha.  Scully resented her, although she didn't want to.  This woman had just walked into Mulder's life today, after breaking his heart for six months by not having any contact with him.  She'd been in his life for all of eighteen hours and already asked him to put his life on the line for her.  Like he hadn't already done that a million times.  Yes, she knew that Mulder had to find the answers someday, but to walk right into it without any investigation first, without finding out exactly what he was dealing with, and without the Bureau's resources was too much to ask. Even of a brother.””

Mulder is overjoyed that Samantha has contacted him; and overlooks all the manipulative and gaslighting behavior she exhibits. Even though Scully suspects, she can’t deter Mulder from the lethal mission Sam sends him on.  

Susan Proto’s Familiar Faces 

“"There was no doubt in his mind it was Samantha. 

Or a clone. 

"Scully__?" he choked out.

"Could it be the same woman you'd met at the diner?" Scully asked....”” 

Post FTF-- Mulder and Scully are openly dating. While leisurely walking in the park, they stumble upon a little girl that looks exactly like Samantha-- until they realize her mother IS Samantha. Scully professionally handles questioning; and Mulder is gut-punched that Sam doesn’t want to remember her past. 

This is a cherry-pick pick, I must admit. I only read the initial interaction between Mulder, Scully, and Sam’s family before I dropped off (as it, admittedly, gets too dramatic and seems to shift into sliiiight absurdity. Just my own thoughts.) 

finisterre’s The Tunnel at the End of the Light

""Scully? You're Scully, aren't you? I'm sorry, I don't know your first name.

"Then, I see the gleam of something metallic. A gun in her hand, rising. "Who are you?" she snaps.

"I'm ... uh, a friend of the Mulder family," I said.

The visible eye thins to a suspicious slit. "Friends of Mulder's family aren't usually friends of his. So who are you?"”

This takes place during Season 8: Samantha hasn’t reached out since Redux II-- but that changes when she realizes her life, her friends, and her husband were a fabrication CSM used to keep her dependent. She flees, ending up at a very hostile Scully’s (who softens when Sam is devastated at the news of her brother’s abduction.) She is awed when Scully hands over the only false identity The Lone Gunmen had set up as emergency; and hopes to meet again soon.

Enjoy! 

#txf #x-files #xf fanfic #fics #Collector's Edition #Redux II Samantha Was Real #xraelynn #Rachel Nobel #Vickie Moseley #Dawn #sunrize83 #shannono #Jennifer-Oksana #Livia Balaban #Jenna #Mish #Jennifer Maurer #Susanne Barringer #Susan Proto #finisterre #mine

[soft-thrills]

An early Christmas gift nobody has asked for. (Gentle) Domme Scully. I wrote this in the middle of the night.

I don’t know where it came from. No, that’s not true: I do know, but if I told you, I’d have to kill you.

Smut, and nothing else, behind the cut. Not beta’ed, barely proofread. If you like it, let me know. Either way, I wish you all a much better 2022.

It’s a risk.

There’s been no discussion, no negotiation. She’s not planning anything that would require a safe word — nobody is restrained, nobody is going to get hurt, at least beyond their pride. But it’s still a risk.

“Are you close?” Scully asks, as she rides Mulder, her palms hot against his chest.

It’s a risk. But despite her strict rationalism and science and all that straight and narrow stuff, she’s a risk-taker. People who play it safe don’t use their medical degrees to get a gun and a badge, after all.

“Yeah,” Mulder pants, thrusting up into her. “Close. Gonna come.”

She takes the risk.

“No,” she says.

He looks at her, flabbergasted. “What?”

“I said, ‘no.’ I want to decide when you come,” she says. “Can you wait? Can you do that for me?”

She is stern but sweet — encouraging even. Like a personal trainer who gets the very best out of you, who throws on that extra resistance because she believes in you, and you wouldn’t want to let her down, would you?

“Oh — okay. Yes,” Mulder says.

“Good boy,” she purrs.

“Fuck,” he hisses. “Where is this coming from and why is it turning me on so much?”

She grins.

“I don’t know, on both accounts. But what I do know, Mulder, is I’d like to come again before you do. What do you think about that?”

She’s come once already, with her thighs pressed against Mulder’s ears as he devoured her pussy. But several thousands of years of patriarchy mean she doesn’t feel too bad about seeking this two-for-one deal.

He’s about to reply when she speaks over him.

“Before you answer,” Scully says. “Remember, it usually takes me a little longer to come the second time, and I don’t want you making me promises you can’t keep. So: can you hold off until I come again? Can you do that for me?”

“I can try,” Mulder offers, shakily.

She squeezes her inner muscles around him and he groans.

“Not good enough,” she says, her voice stern again. “Will you put me first? Will you hold off for me?”

She lifts herself off his cock then, and he groans, a bereft sound.

“Even if it’s hard?” she asks, pun intended, gripping the base of his cock with a hot hand. “Even if you know, rationally, that you could flip me on my back and fuck my brains out?”

He makes a strangled sound, then, and maybe he’s imagining it. But he stays docile under her hand, not even thrusting up into her fist.

“Yes. I promise. You come first,” he says. “You know I love making you come. Please let me.”

“Good boy,” she whispers, before sliding back onto his hard cock.

Maybe she’s trying to assert herself, maybe this is some kind of psychosexual outlet for her feelings of inadequacy compared to The Work. Maybe it’s just hot. Whatever it is, it seems to be working for both of them — he’s rock hard inside her, and she’s slick around him. Her thighs burn from bouncing up and down, but it barely registers against the hot desire at her center, the thrill of being in control, of having this power over her partner.

“Touch my clit, Mulder. Make me come,” she says.

His thumb finds her clit in record time, spinning tight circle, soft at first, then harder.

“It feels so good to ride you. To use your nice, hard cock for as long as I want,” she teases him. “Do you like that? Me using you, for my pleasure?”

“Yeah,” he grunts, lifting his hips off the bed to meet her harder now. “Please.”

She smiles — half sweet, half condescending. She lifts one hand from his chest and brushes his hair away from his forehead.

“Please what, honey?”

He grunts — she doesn’t usually use pet names.

“Please, I don’t know if I can last much longer,” he says.

The smile disappears, for his benefit, really.

“You can,” she says, squeezing her muscles around him, eliciting another grunt, “and you will.”

“Please,” he begs again, his thumb working her clit faster, tighter.

“Mm, I am getting close. I bet you can feel that, can’t you?”

He nods.

“I love the way you’re touching me. If you keep up like that I’m going to come.”

A beat. Two.

“So I want you to stop.”

It takes him a second, which she can’t really blame him for in his current state. His thumb slows, stops, but he doesn’t remove it.

“What? No, please,” he begs her.

“Hands at your sides,” her voice is clipped, like she’s cuffing a suspect. “Now.”

He obeys, but not without whining.

“Please, please let me—“

“Let you what? Let you touch me? Let you get me off? What I really suspect is that what you want is for me to let *you* come,” she says. “After all, you usually don’t have any problem teasing me — getting me close and pulling back, holding out on me.”

It’s true, not that she has had any problem being teased, being brought to the edge only to look over and be pulled back once, twice, however many times before they’ve tumbled over together.

She stops moving on him for a moment, just keeps him buried to the hilt. Her own hands wander up to her breasts, pinching her nipples, soft, then a little harder.

“Can I tell you a secret, Mulder? I like it when you tease me. It gets me so fucking wet. And I thought you might like it if I did it to you,” she says. “And I think my hypothesis was correct. I think you like this.”

“I like it so much I’m about to embarrass myself, Scully, if you keep putting on a show like that,” he nods in the direction of her breasts.

She smirks.

“What do you want, Mulder?”

“I want to watch you come,” he says.

“Good. Play with my clit again,” she says.

He breaks the previous record time in getting his thumb to the place where they’re joined. She speeds up moving on top of him.

“God, that feels so good. But it’s going to feel even better to come on your cock. Give it to me a little harder,” she says.

He thrusts up faster, best he can in the position he’s in.

“I’m close,” she tells him. “I bet you are too, but remember: you don’t come until I tell you. Understand?”

He nods. His fingers move faster. She looks down at him, and on his face she sees a mix of the intense discipline it’s taking him not to explode and of wonder, desire, adoration for her.

“Scully,” he says, and it’s those two little syllables that push her past the edge.

She bucks around him, clenching, moaning, feeling more free and uninhibited than she ever has. Sometimes she feels shy on top, but not now — she feels strong, powerful. Later she’ll feel exhausted, and thankful for all the squats she’s added to her gym routine. But in this moment she feels only pleasure, only power, only love for the man who has given it to her.

He’s still hard when she comes down from it. He’s drenched in sweat, his jaw set with determination.

“I’m so proud of you,” she says, and it’s strange but it nearly chokes her up. So she tempers it by being dirty and remembering what she’d told him before: “Flip me onto my back and fuck my brains out, Mulder. You’ve earned it.”

And he has. And he does.

#xfiles fic #xfiles fanfic #domme scully #msr #msr smut #xf fic #xfiles smut #hi it’s me time to check in like once or twice a year with some filth #xfiles fanfiction #xfiles

[alliedbiscuit]

msr fic / s7 post-closure but pre-all things / wc: 3398

Scully takes Maggie out for a birthday dinner, and you'll never guess who they run into.

************

“So, how are feeling about dessert?” the waiter asks hopefully.

Maggie Scully scoffs. “Oh, no. I couldn’t eat another bite. Maybe just a cup of coffee? Decaf, please.”

“Mom, are you sure? You should get dessert,” Dana Scully prods, stopping herself short before she could let it slip, “It’s your birthday!” The last gift her mother would appreciate is a gaggle of underpaid waiters singing some public-domain-compliant version of a birthday song while the whole restaurant turns its attention toward her. Like mother, like daughter.

Well, the daughter made an exception and found that kind of thing charming exactly once. But at least she got a nice keychain out of it. All her mother would get was humiliation and a chocolate lava cake.

As soon as the waiter leaves to fetch their after dinner coffees, Maggie reveals her true intentions.

“I was thinking we could go to that ice cream parlor down the street. If I’m going to indulge, I think I want a hot fudge sundae. Or maybe we could split a banana split?”

“Or you could get a hot fudge sundae and I could get a banana split, and we could split both,” Scully suggests.

“See, that’s why you work for the FBI.”

“Dessert Conflict Resolution was part of my training at Quantico.”

Both Scullys giggle.

“Does Fox have the same specialty? Or is that what you bring to the team?”

“Mulder’s dessert strategy is just to eat everything and then swim a mile and run five the next day. No, he’s a Takeout Menu Marksman, though. He knows where to order from and what to order so it travels the best and doesn’t get cold and congealed by the time it arrives. Might sound like a trivial skill, but it’s a lifesaver on movie night.”

Maggie continues smiling but cocks her head slightly. Dana realizes why almost instantly.

“You have movie night?”

“It’s not a set thing or anything. We just…if we’re not busy with a case.”

“You just watch movies? As coworkers?”

“As friends.”

“Just friends?”

Dana lets out a long sigh as she stares her mother down. Her mother, maintaining that gentle yet challenging grin. Dana considers her response carefully. She could offer a simple yes because that is the fact of the matter. They are just friends. She could criticize the wording choice. “Just” friends? Why does it have to be “just” friends? As if friendship isn’t somehow enough or isn’t valuable?

She could realize it’s her mother’s birthday and she’s the only other Scully woman left to confide in about matters of the heart, and although she doesn’t want to bring up the New Year’s kiss because she still doesn’t really know what it meant, maybe they both need this little gift of honesty, filled with tempered excitement and promise.

“For now,” Dana Scully finally admits.

Maggie’s grin grows as Scully just shakes her head and manages to keep her slight eye roll from reaching embarrassed teenager level. The waiter does bail her out a bit by choosing that moment to deliver their coffees.

“How is Fox doing? After his mother…” Maggie trails off, but her daughter knows not to expect any more specifics.

“Better? I mean, as well as can be expected. The thing is, right after that, he found out some more about his sister. About what happened to her. It was just so much all at once. I was really worried…”

Maggie reaches across the table to lay a hand on hers.

“But, it was almost like he was ready for it. He finally had some answers. Like it brought him some peace.”

“That’s wonderful.”

“Yeah. He needed that.”

“We all do.”

*************

Maggie is the one to spot him first as they’re heading for the door.

“Is that- is that Fox?” she asks her daughter.

“What? No, he wouldn't…” Dana trails off as she looks straight ahead to where her mother was indicating and confirms that it is indeed Fox Mulder, standing with his hands in his pockets and his eyes trained to the floor as he appears to be waiting near the vestibule for the restrooms.

“Mulder?” Scully questions as she approaches, her voice giving away her confusion and growing concern.

His head darts up in surprise, but a beaming smile of recognition quickly overtakes his face.

“Hey, Scully! Mrs. Scully, it’s so nice to see you!”

“You too, Fox,” Maggie kindly replies, although a quick glance to her daughter confirms her suspicion that Dana is still very confused by his presence.

“Did you…did you need something?” She suddenly feels silly for presuming that he must have come there with urgent news or a case or something, but why else would Fox Mulder be at Petrino’s on a Saturday night? Did his informants trade in clandestine meetings in parking garages for family-style Italian?

“Hmm?” Mulder asks.

“You didn’t come here to find me? I told you I was bringing my mom here for her birthday, didn’t I?” He didn’t look like he had rushed to the restaurant from the office or his apartment as she had originally assumed. He had clearly shaved and combed his hair nicely. He wore an olive green sweater with dark blue jeans and a black wool pea coat rather than his leather jacket. He had definitely made an effort.

“You did, but I thought you were going out tomorrow night on her actual birthday. Happy birthday, by the way, Mrs. Scully.”

“Thank you, Fox. I’m going to have lunch with some ladies from church after mass tomorrow, so I asked Dana if we could do Saturday night instead.”

“Ah. What a weird coincidence then. I can’t believe we didn’t see you at all during dinner.”

We.

Oh God.

Mulder was on a date.

Mulder was on a date in this restaurant on the night he thought Scully wasn’t going to be there. Mulder was on a date right after Scully had confessed to her mother (and herself) that their “just friends” status was in the process of changing. Mulder was on a date right after he’d been through so much pain but seemed to come out lighter and more open and he wanted to share it with someone…who wasn’t Dana Scully.

“So, you’ve already eaten then?” Maggie asks since her daughter appears unable to form a coherent statement at the moment.

“Yeah, we just finished. I’m just waiting for her…” he seems to trail off just to motion towards the restroom rather than say anything indelicate, but then he notices Maggie’s poorly masked look of concern toward Dana, and then he notices Dana’s completely unmasked look of shock.

And then he gets it.

“Oh, no! It’s not…I want you to meet her,” Mulder insists as he grabs a hold of both of Scully’s elbows and then glances anxiously toward the restroom door.

Dana Scully looks like she might be ill.

Thankfully Mulder only stammers a moment longer until the restroom door opens and he finds reprieve when a tall, thin woman appearing to be in her mid-60s walks through the door.

“Aunt Helen,” Mulder calls.

Somehow Scully’s eyes manage to get even wider as some of the color returns to her face.

“Aunt Helen, there are a few people I’d really like you to meet. This is my partner, Dana Scully, and this is her mother, Margaret Scully.”

Aunt Helen smiles widely in recognition, first shaking Maggie’s hand and then Dana’s. “It is such a pleasure to meet you both. I’ve heard such wonderful things.”

She lingers with her hand holding Dana’s while she says this, and the younger Scully is left blushing. She hazards a look at Mulder, but he doesn’t look embarrassed by this revelation. He holds her gaze with nothing but pride.

“This is my aunt, Helen Briggs. She’s my mom’s sister. She’s visiting for the weekend from Charlotte.”

They all kind of marvel over the fact that they were in the same restaurant and what a coincidence and oh, we were seated near the back bar, that must be why we didn’t see you and Scully is just starting to feel her pulse return to normal as Aunt Helen laments not having a chance to talk with the Scullys.

“Well, Dana and I skipped dessert so we could go to The Big Dipper for some ice cream. Would you two like to join us?”

“Oh, that would be lovely. As long as we’re not intruding,” says Aunt Helen.

“Not at all,” Scully assures her. “There is one catch, though.”

“It’s not real ice cream. It’s that Tofutti nonsense, isn’t it?” Mulder groans.

“It better not be,” Maggie insists. “I don’t know how she eats that stuff.”

Scully ignores her mother and her partner’s bad mouthing of her frozen treats as she returns her attention to Aunt Helen.

“I’m afraid if you want to come along, you will have to reveal a few good Young Mulder stories. And by ‘a few,’ I mean as many as you’ve got. And by ‘good,’ I mean the more embarrassing the better.”

“I’ll start thinking now,” Aunt Helen laughs.

“I knew I should’ve picked a different restaurant,” Mulder says regretfully.

***********

They’ve just sat down to a small, round table for four with their ice cream when Mulder stands up to get them all more napkins, and Aunt Helen retrieves a small, rectangular piece of paper from her purse that she then deftly slides to Dana.

“Oh my god!” Scully exclaims with joy.

Staring back at her from the paper is a very young Fox Mulder. She guesses he must be around 8 or 9 in the school photo. His long, sandy brown hair falls just above his eyebrows. He doesn’t have his distinctive nose yet, but his bottom lip is already a little pouty. The real give away is the eyes. He’s grinning for the camera, but his eyes still have that soulfulness, that slight sadness.

She’s surprised. She knows she shouldn’t be. His eyes didn’t suddenly change when Samantha was taken. His eyes were probably always like that.

But she had always assumed that the great tragedy had flipped a switch for Young Fox Mulder. That before that single event, he had certainly been a perfectly happy child. Funny and athletic, popular for sure. But the humor developed as a defense mechanism later in life. And the sports were a great physical release as well as an excuse to be out of the house as much as possible. She didn’t actually know what he was like before, but now that she thought about it, home life was probably never all that great if it eventually led to a father sacrificing one child and leaving the other to always live with the guilt and loss.

It was very possible that Fox Mulder had always been a little boy with a lot on his mind.

In contrast, present day, adult Fox Mulder looks like he doesn’t have a care in the world as he returns with extra napkins, ready to tuck into his chocolate peanut butter ice cream in a waffle cone – that is until he realizes what his friend and partner Dana Scully is looking at.

“Oh come on. I was gone for thirty seconds, and you have the visual aids out.”

Scully continues to beam as Maggie finally gets a glimpse of the photo in her hand.

“Oh, Fox!”

“Okay,” Mulder said exasperatedly. “Does this meet your embarrassment quota?” he asks, looking pointedly at Scully.

“Not even close! This isn’t embarrassing. It’s adorable!”

Mulder rolls his eyes but can’t hide his bashful grin at her comment.

“It’s only fair, Fox. I know you’ve seen family photos of Dana at my house,” Mrs. Scully says, sounding like a mother well practiced in settling disputes between children.

“Just a couple. I do like that high school graduation picture, though. I still don’t know how you kept your cap on with all that hair.”

“That was the style back then. Everybody teased their hair and used a ton of hairspray.”

“I thought it might be a religious thing at Catholic school. The higher the hair, the closer to God,” Mulder teases.

Maggie and Aunt Helen chuckle, though the latter gives him a good-natured swat on the arm in admonishment.

“See, this is what I need, though. I need something from the teen years. That’s peak embarrassment fodder,” Scully says.

“If you ask our colleagues, I think my peak embarrassment fodder would come from about 1991 to present,” Mulder points out.

Aunt Helen just looks slightly regretful. “I’m afraid I don’t have many stories from those years, Dana.”

Mulder makes eye contact with Aunt Helen. “You didn’t miss much,” he insists. She looks like she wants to debate him, but he just places a hand on hers reassuringly, and they seem to make a silent agreement to not argue the point any further.

Mulder had never really mentioned any other family before. She knew his grandparents had all passed before she met him, but she had assumed, just like with everything else, that any other extended family connections had disappeared along with Samantha. That no one would know how to comfort and console The Mulders in a situation like that, with no explanation.

His aunts and uncles must have had questions, probably even had their own theories. Did his mother’s side suspect his father’s involvement, or did his father’s side blame his mother somehow? Did any of them blame…no, she couldn’t go down that route. Besides, did anyone ever suspect horrific things like that before the days of cable news and supermarket tabloids?

The point is, it was a tense situation, so Scully assumed they had all done what wealthy white people in places like Martha’s Vineyard and Boston and Raleigh did with any uncomfortable subject – they avoided it completely.

And that meant avoiding the little boy with a lot on his mind as he became a teenager with even more on his mind.

Scully had accompanied Mulder to a small burial service for his mother in Raleigh a few months ago. It was just the service. No gathering or dinner after, or at least not one that Mulder told her about. The attendees at the service were all pretty spread out, not much mingling. Again, it was another sudden loss shrouded in mystery. They all avoided particulars as much as they could.

Scully didn’t remember seeing Aunt Helen that day, but maybe she was there and just couldn’t bring herself to say anything. Maybe she wasn’t there because she couldn’t bring herself to go and then regretted it. Dana Scully didn’t know, and it didn’t actually matter. The point is that she’s here now. And that’s exactly what Mulder’s look of reassurance and acceptance seems to say.

It seems to help her perk up because she offers playfully, “Oh, what about that summer on Quonochontaug? I think you were 9 or so, and you were collecting leaves for one of your Indian Guide badges.”

“Oh god!”

“I’m hooked already. Not to jump ahead, but please tell me there’s poison ivy involved,” Scully says gleefully.

Aunt Helen’s bark of laughter and Mulder’s exaggerated eye roll are all the confirmation she needs.

“It was heavily involved! But that’s not the worst part. While he was working on his Leaf Collecting badge, he also earned credit towards his Wildlife badge when he came across a skunk in the woods.”

“No!” Scully shouts.

“Ivyed and skunked at the same time,” Mulder admits.

“Oh you poor thing,” Maggie adds sympathetically, but with barely contained laughter.

“He had to jump right from a tomato juice bath for the skunk smell…”

“Which didn’t work!”

“…into an oatmeal bath for the itching.”

“Which worked better, but I still smelled like a Grateful Dead concert.”

Both Scullys are full on giggling at this point.

“Do you remember what Grandpa Ralph said when he walked in and saw you and mom dunking me in a tub of oatmeal?” Mulder asks.

Aunt Helen pitches her voice deeper and amps up her Southern twang, “Why don’t cha dip him in some egg and flour next? We toss him in the frying pan, we got supper! We’re havin’ Fried Fox tonight!”

Now they’re all in hysterics. Even the man who usually hates his given name can’t help but laugh along, especially when it makes his lovely company so happy.

*****************

Scully enters the basement office Monday morning to find Mulder already there, flipping through an open drawer in the filing cabinet.

“Good morning,” she says cheerfully.

He looks up and smiles. “Good morning. Long time no see.”

“How was the rest of your weekend? Did you guys do any sightseeing or anything?”

“No, we just had a late breakfast yesterday before I took her to the airport, but it was good to catch up some more. She told me to thank you again for letting us tag along for ice cream. It was really nice.”

“It was,” Scully agrees.

Mulder appears to be considering something for a moment before he crosses over to the desk and picks up a small envelope.

“She also told me to give this to you,” he says almost bashfully, extending the envelope in Scully’s direction. “She told me I couldn’t look inside, and I didn’t. But I think I know what’s in there, and if I’m right, you don’t have to keep it. You can just leave it here on the desk.”

Well, now she’s intrigued. Scully opens the envelope to find a small handwritten note at the top.

“I thought you might like these. I have plenty more too, if you’d ever like to see them or want any more stories. Please don’t be a stranger.”

Scully lifts up the note to see the remaining contents inside and finds a small stack of photographs, a mixture of more school photos along with a few wallet-sized family portraits and a couple candids taken on the beaches of the Vineyard or Rhode Island, she can’t tell. But she sees the same set of eyes in all of them.

She looks back to read the rest of the note.

“I’m so glad I got to meet you, Dana. Take care!”

Below Aunt Helen’s elegant signature, she has also written her home address and phone number. Scully will have to call and thank her.

“She tried to give some to me,” Mulder explains, “but I didn’t really want…and like I said, you don’t have to…”

“No, I’d like to keep them,” Dana insists.

Mulder lets her statement hang in the air for a moment, but he can’t help but diffuse it.

“You just want more blackmail material.”

“Something like that,” Scully says teasingly, but there’s no bite behind it.

“I knew I should’ve picked a different restaurant.”

She chuckles lightly as she shuffles the photos into a neat stack to place back in the envelope, thinking that this is the point where they get back to work. Mulder stays standing in front of her and appears to be considering something again. Does he have another envelope that he’s afraid to give her?

“You know it was pure luck that we ended up at Petrino’s the same night as you. I actually gave Aunt Helen a few options and let her choose. I was pushing more for that Thai place in Arlington, just off Old Dominion. The one that’s been there forever,” Mulder explains.

“Oh, the one with the secret menu? I’ve still never been there. Can’t say I’m surprised that Aunt Helen wasn’t up for Thai food, though.”

“Yeah. Fair point,” Mulder nods for a moment too long before continuing. “Would you like to go there sometime? Like this Saturday? With me?”

Scully slowly looks up from the envelope to see Mulder’s face because in all matters, other than the divine, Dana Scully needs to see to believe. And the slightly nervous yet gentle grin that she finds allows her to believe it to be true – Fox Mulder has just asked her out on a real date.

“I would like that,” Scully says gently.

“Good. You wanna say 7:30? Or we can always figure out time later,” Mulder states, aiming for practicality to keep him from grinning like a complete idiot. He ends up grinning like a moderate idiot, but he’s okay with that.

“Sounds good.”

Yep, Scully will definitely have to call Aunt Helen and thank her.

#msr fanfic #txf fanfic #msr #mulder and scully #dana scully #maggie scully #fox mulder

[freckleslikestars]

Mitla

Mulder adopts a cat and Scully gets jealous. Revival, starts between This and Plus One, finishes after Rm9

4700 words, read here on AO3 (rated a high T/low M)

‘No, Baby, don’t touch that-‘

‘Bad time, Mulder?’ she didn’t bother masking the bitterness in her voice. It wasn’t like they were together anymore, and he could screw who he liked. It just pissed her off that he, the conspiracy nut living far out in the country, in their home, was seemingly getting some when she wasn’t. A clatter came from Mulder’s end of the line and a gleeful chuckle followed, a muffled ‘you’re so cute’ and a ‘oh, god, you’ve made such a mess.’ She cleared her throat, ‘I can call back if you need.’

‘No, no it’s good. Just, uh- are any of the towels in the airing cupboard particularly important to you?’

She could hear the opening of the cupboard door, the sticky squeal the hinges always gave, and the soft, muffled thump of towels being rummaged through. She’d taken her best set of towels with her when she left, but she’d left most of the others, ‘the lilac set were a gift from my mom. And-‘ she thought to the towels they’d chosen together when they bought the place. Her gut twisted at the idea of another woman using them. But they were his towels as much as her own. ‘Yeah, just those ones.’

‘Ok. Cool. What where you calling about?’

‘Skinner wants us to have our budget breakdowns ready for the meeting tomorrow. I’ve got mine done; I was just checking that you’d finished yours.’

‘Ah.’

‘Don’t tell me you forgot-‘

‘No, I didn’t forget. It’s just been a bit hectic around here this weekend.’

Her blood boiled and the sarcastic barb flew from her lips without forethought, ‘Alien invasion? Hot girl?’

‘Girl? What’s a girl? No, uh…it’s hard to explain right now. Ummm…hey, wanna come over for dinner tonight? Watch a movie? They’ve got The Exorcist on Netflix.’

‘Mulder, you don’t know how to use Netflix.’

‘Why do you think I’m inviting you over? need someone to do the technical for me.’

She looked at her watch, though about walking into her house to smell some other woman’s perfume, then thought about the idea of spending the evening with Mulder. That was as much of a draw as it always had been. ‘How’s half seven?’

‘Perfect. If I order, can you pick up on your way.’

‘Of course. I’ll see you then.’

 The paper bags of food were warm in her arms as she balanced them to knock on the front door. ‘It’s open!’ came Mulder’s muffled cry and she dropped her hand to the doorknob, letting herself in. As she walked in she could hear him murmuring to someone, soft coos of admiration mixed with curses on his cell phone camera and modern technology. So they were to have a guest for dinner: if this was meet the girlfriend, she was out.

But before she could drop the bags and turn on her heel, he was standing up from the corner of the room, tucked away between the desk and the bookshelf, where the radiator resided.

‘Hey. How was the traffic?’

‘Light,’ she smiled stiffly, walking through to the kitchen and placing down the food on the table. No sign of another woman. ‘How was your weekend.’

He brushed up behind her, leaning over her shoulder to peer into the bags as his hand wandered up her back, ‘good. Real good,’ he grinned at her, ‘yours?’

‘Same as always. I cleaned the bathroom, worked on the article I’m writing.’

‘Scully,’ he sighed melodramatically, ‘that’s not a weekend.’

She tensed slightly. He was still stood behind her, as close as he always stood, and she had to grit her teeth against swinging round and socking him one. Who was he to tell her how to spend her weekend? Who was he to gloat about getting laid? ‘And what would you have me do? go ‘squwatching’? alien chasing? vampire hunting?’

‘Hey, what’s wrong? Are you okay?’

‘Yeah,’ she shrugged out of his reach, ‘I just shouldn’t have come here tonight. I’m going to go.’

‘Wait, what?’

‘I don’t want to hear about your great weekend, Mulder, I’m just going to go home, okay. Enjoy the food. Share it with your new girlfriend.’

‘Girlfriend? Scully, what on earth are you talking about?’

‘You were talking to her, whilst you were on the phone to me. I heard you,’ she was walking through the living room, digging her car keys from her jacket pocket, when she almost tripped over it and it screeched. ‘Jesus fuck!’

The furball was still hissing and screaming when Mulder scooped it up, cradling it against his chest and hushing to it.

‘So you’ve got a girlfriend and a cat now?’

He stared at her, face a picture of confusion, and she could have sworn he was going to deny both counts. ‘What girlfriend? Scully, do you really…? I don’t think…I mean, I’m flattered, I guess, that you think I’ve still got what it takes to get a girlfriend, but…’

‘I heard you, Mulder.’

‘I was talking to the cat.’

It was her turn to stare, eyes watering, ‘so you haven’t got a girlfriend?’

‘No,’ he laughed, ‘no. No girlfriend. Only cat.’

‘Oh,’ she could feel the warm blossom of humiliation across her cheeks, the shame of the inexplicable jealousy she’d felt towards a cat.

‘That’s why I invited you over. Thought you should meet the new housemate,’ he grinned, a child eager to prove himself, ‘Scully, meet Mitla.’

‘Mitla?’

‘Mmhm. It’s a catlike dog, or a doglike cat – accounts are undecided – having been sighted in the jungles of Peru and Bolivia.’

She gave him a sceptical look, ‘are they real?’

‘Well, that depends on your definition of real and how much proof you require, but-‘

‘Mulder, you can’t name a cat after a cryptid.’

‘Can too. Why not?’

‘Because- well, because, it’s not real. Besides, you can’t seriously be thinking about keeping it.’

He prickled at that, clutching the little kitten closer to his chest. ‘Why not?’

‘Mulder, you’re never here. We’re away on cases all the time. How are you going to feed it? Look after it?’

‘I’ve already asked Skinner. He’s said he’s more than happy to keep an eye on Mit when I’m not here.’

She sighed. She wasn’t going to get anywhere with this argument before they’d eaten, ‘the food’s going cold.’

‘Lead the way.’

She gave a final scowl towards the cat that Mulder was still cradling before walking back into the kitchen and grabbing plates, bowls, glasses and the water jug, ‘beer or wine?’

‘Beer sounds good.’

‘’kay,’ she assented, grabbing two bottles from the fridge, appraising the stocked shelves as she did so. Lot’s of change happening today then. Where had the man who loathed to grocery shop disappeared to?

They adopted an amiable silence as they dished one another’s food up, knowing from years of practice what one another liked and having gotten serving down to a refined art over the decades they’d spent sharing takeout in motel rooms and apartments alike. Throughout the entire process Scully refused to acknowledge the cat that Mulder had balanced atop his head, and the gasps of pain he elicited every sudden move he made, little stiletto-knife claws piercing his scalp.

When they were both served and seated, he scooped the kitten up and shifted her down to his shoulder, grinning at Scully as he did so.

‘So where did you get this cat then, Mulder?’

‘Well, it was kind of late when I was leaving the office on Friday, maybe like 9 or something, and Skinner, he was getting to the parking garage at around the same time. He was asking about the last case we were on, something about a problem with the motel room charges going through properly or something, and as he was talking we were walking towards his car, which was in the opposite direction of mine, but I figured I wasn’t in a rush to go anywhere,’ he shrugged, pausing to chew a mouthful of food, ‘anyway, we were stood by his car when I hear this…it was kind of like a whimpering, a mewling, that sort of thing, you know?’ Scully had to cover her mouth, stifling a chuckle as he attempted to imitate the sound and Mitla butted her head against his cheek, chewing on his whiskery, scratchy weekend scruff. He chortled at the sensation, turning his head and nudging the cat on the nose with his nose. ‘It was coming from underneath Skinner’s car, and he couldn’t hear it – old man’s hearing’s going, I think – and so I crouched down and nothing. No sign of anything. But it wasn’t like there were any more cars in the area, no hiding place for anything.

‘So, we popped the hood and there were these two little eyes, squeezed in behind the engine. See, it was real cold Friday morning, wasn’t it, and she must have crawled in there looking for warmth. We spent, like, and hour trying to coax her out. She was all covered in oil and gunk and stuff, so I took her to a 24 hour emergency vet to get her checked out and by that time it was, like, midnight, and when the vet said she was fine to leave, I just, I mean, I didn’t want to let her out of my sight, y’know? So I took her home.’

‘Very heroic, Mulder.’

‘Uh-huh,’ he was using his index finger to scratch the tiny cat behind the ear, his attention completely on her and not Scully. Now she really looked, she could see scars on the kitten’s face, around the eyes and nose, and wondered if Mulder was keeping anything from her about what the vet had said.

‘So, when it’s a little stronger are you going to take it to the shelter?’

His face fell, a look of horror spreading, ‘what? No, of course not! Scully, do you know the statistics on black cats being adopted? They’re not good. And then do you know what happens? They get put down. How could I let that happen, when I saved her once? No. I’m keeping her. I filled out the paperwork with the vet and everything.’

‘And it’s healthy?’

‘Well, the vet thinks she’s got a food allergy to something, possibly something she was eating before we found her. So we’re keeping her on kitten milk to see if it clears up, and then we’re going to experiment with what foods she can and can’t eat when she’s a bit older.’

‘Mulder,’ Scully sighed, dropping her fork, ‘this is a lot of work for you. Are you sure you’re up for this?’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘I just...it’s all very sudden. I’m worried you haven’t thought this through properly.’

He glared across the table at her before turning his attention back to the cat on his shoulder, stroking its nose with his forefinger, ‘I’ve thought it through plenty. I’m not a child, Scully. I’m on my meds, we’re back working. I’m doing good.’

There was no use arguing about it; he’d clearly got his mind set on keeping the cat, and she wouldn’t be able to sway him. So, for the time being, she relented. She could hardly stop him, could she?

 Dana Scully was not a cat person. They shed hair everywhere. They carried toxoplasmosis. Worms. Fleas. You couldn’t take them for walks. They brought in mice, caught birds. They were destructive and, put simply, assholes.

And just because Mitla was Mulder’s cat, she wasn’t going to instantly change her views. Especially not when Mulder seemed to care more about the cat than her.

Was she jealous of a cat? No, of course not. That would be stupid. Childish. Immature. Downright unreasonable. What did she have to be jealous of a cat for, anyway? Just because said cat got to spend downtime with Mulder, share nightly dinners with him, curl against him as she slept. No. it wasn’t rational to be jealous of a cat, so she wasn’t.

Besides, she left him, didn’t she? And just because they were back to working together again, didn’t mean either of them wanted a relationship again. No. That ship had sailed. They were past those days. They’d moved on. They were just friends again – hadn’t they always worked better that way anyway? So what if her fantasies remained solidly Mulder-centric? So what if every man she met, and the occasional woman, was always compared to Mulder in her mind, and never measured up? They were together for years, had a child together, worked together, were so entangled in one another’s lives; it was only natural for him to cross her mind sometimes.

So why, oh why, oh why was she so jealous of the damned cat?

Perhaps it was the way the cat tailed him everywhere, if not on his shoulder or in his pocket she’d be a pawprint behind him or curled on his lap. Since they’d been introduced, she hadn’t seen them separate at the house for more than two minutes. He’d even had the audacity to bring the cat to work a few times on a little harness, let her run wild in the office, chasing balls of paper he tossed her and curling up in his desk drawer.

Perhaps it was how, as they sat in the living room of their house reading through files and working on reports, the cat got its ears and chin scratched, Mulder dividing his attention between paperwork and the new love of his life. She couldn’t remember a single time when he’d split his attention between paperwork and her.

Or perhaps it was how, as the night wore on, both man and cat slipped into a peaceful slumber sprawled out on the couch together. Her Mulder only used to slumber peacefully when she was where the cat now was.

She was starting to convince herself that if the cat could start talking and doing autopsies, she’d be out of a job.

 ‘Mulder, you’re not as young as you used to be. You can’t keep getting injured and expecting to heal like you did twenty years back.’

‘It wasn’t my fault,’ he threw his unbroken arm up in defence. ‘The stairs were icier than I thought and my shoes don’t have great tread. I didn’t do it on purpose.’

‘Hmmm,’ Scully nodded, barely concealing a smile. ‘The doctor wants to keep you in overnight to keep an eye on that head of yours.’

‘I thought that was your job.’

‘Not anymore. I stopped trying to keep an eye on you all the way back in ’93.’

‘Well that’s good to know.’

She smiled, covered his hand with her own, squeezed it slightly. ‘Is there anything I can get you from the house?’

‘I don’t think so,’ he shook his head, ‘but if you could go over and feed Mits, check she’s got enough water, give her some fuss and attention. Oh, and if you could run a brush through her fur, that would be really great. I don’t want to bother Skinner so late.’

‘Mulder,’ she sighed, ‘I’m sure the cat will survive for one night.’

His gaze turned frantic as he sat further up, shifting his broken leg to the side of the bed and struggling to get up, ‘she won’t, Scully. We have a routine, and she’s only small, and she’s terrible at hunting so she can’t even catch her own food. And it’s cold out. You’ve got to make sure she hasn’t escaped in any way.’

‘Okay, okay,’ she nodded in defeat, already putting Mulder back to bed, ‘I’ll go check on her.’

 Two glowing eyes glared at her from the sofa when she walked into the dark house. When she flicked the light on, she found Mitla crouching, hackles raised, teeth bared. She glared back with narrowed eyes, ‘what’s your problem?’

A hiss. A growl.

‘This was my house before it was yours, you know. He was my Mulder before he was yours, too,’ why she was even speaking to the cat, she did not know. Why she was staking her claim was even further from any sense of logic she could find. ‘I’m just here to feed you, but I won’t if you’re going to be an asshole about it.’

Scully walked through to the kitchen, conscious of the cat prowling behind her, belly low to the floor and tail like a fox’s. The pouches of food were not hard to find, and once the bowl was full Mitla was right there, digging in. ‘Mulder said you need water, too,’ she murmured, reaching over to take the near-empty water bowl and receiving a hiss in response as she yanked her hand back. ‘Ok. Jeez. I’ll wait for you to finish.’

Whilst she was waiting she wandered through to the living room, tutting at the amount of cat hair on every surface. Queequeg never shed this much. Part of her was starting to empathise with how Mulder felt about Queequeg, but in her defence, her dog had been left to her by a dying man, and had been relatively well behaved. And good company. And cute. He hadn’t been scrawny and flea-ridden and covered in allergy scars, hadn’t walked on surfaces he wasn’t meant to. Queequeg had been trainable. How the fuck do you train a cat?

Also, Queequeg wasn’t an asshole. Queequeg was friendly and never growled at her, never looked like he was plotting her murder. When the cat was done, having trotted through and leapt up on the couch to curl up, completely ignoring the bundle of blankets by the radiator that had been clearly left for her, Scully went through, filled the water bowl and scowled at the half empty food bowl. ‘Aren’t you supposed to eat all of it?’ she called. Queequeg had always eaten all his food at once. Was this something cats did? Leave their food for later?

After emptying the litter tray with a wrinkled nose and screaming alarm bells in her ears about the dangers of toxoplasmosis she shut the light off in the kitchen and went to stand at the end of the couch furthest from the cat. ‘Mulder said I need to give you fuss and attention.’

The cat glared at her churlishly and she shrugged, ‘I don’t want to pet you as much as you don’t want me to pet you, but Mulder seems more protective of you than he ever was of me, so suck it up,’ she slumped down as far from it as possible. There was a small brush on the coffee table, clogged with soft black fur, and she picked it up and pointed it at the cat, ‘Mulder said you need brushing. I guess we can do that.’

It slunk over, emitting a low growl the entire time, and sniffed at the brush before headbutting it. She brushed the cat’s fur along the top of its head, careful to avoid the still-healing scars. After a few passes, whilst the growls continued, most of the tension seemed to leave the little body, and it settled down beside her, wiggling its butt slightly as she brushed it’s tail.

‘See, not so bad, is it,’ she muttered, more to herself than the cat. It raised bored eyes to her, snapping at her hand before leaping off the sofa and darting across the room to jump up onto the windowsill above the radiator, curling up and propping chin on folded paws. ‘Guess we’re done then. Mulder will be back tomorrow. Try not to destroy anything until then.’ And with that she left, looking back one final time at the cat glaring at her from the warm spot above the radiator.

 As dates went, it hadn’t been the best. Though, to be fair, it wasn’t the first time they’d been blown up after an evening out. Next time, he would be choosing the place and there would not be a blobfish in sight – though, if it meant seeing her laugh, perhaps he could permit a blobfish or two. No robots though – he was certain of that.

Whether it had actually been a date at all, though, of that he wasn’t certain. It was sushi. Sushi was date food. They hadn’t talked about any cases, but they hadn’t talked about the looming us either. They hadn’t, in fact, done much talking at all. But it hadn’t felt like just co-workers and he was eager for it not to be. If it was a date, it was their first in a long time. A long, long time.

They’d slept together a few times since their multiple trysts on the pullout couch at the St. Rachael Motel in Henrico County. Well, slept together was a rather strong way to put it; she’d knock on the door of his motel room and he’d let her in, knowing he was going to get hurt and powerless to stop it, and other than their nights in Henrico County she’d snuck out every time whilst he was sleeping. It was a complete reversal of her rules back in the day, the rules of no sex on the job, no messing about in motel rooms. They’d had jello at his place, and he’d expected it to go somewhere, but it hadn’t: Mitla had pounced on the wobbling Bigfoot foot jello and destroyed any chance of the night ending in any way other than him alone with his cat in bed. Scully had helped him clean up the mess, and then ducked out, citing late nights and early mornings, case reports to be filed. She’d seemed relieved, and he’d wondered at the time if sex in their bed felt too much like coming home for her, and that was what pushed her away. But then she never invited him around to his place, and he understood. It was a casual thing, fucking rather than making love.

But after they’d stood at the detritus of her house, solemn in the strobing lights of the fire engines, he’d offered a hot shower and his bed, all to herself. She’d nodded wearily and followed him to his car, climbed in and stared out the window with a hollow gaze, like he was dragging her back somewhere she didn’t want to go. Part of him – a very small part, granted – felt he should offer to pay for a hotel room for her instead, but he knew she could pay for her own hotel room, would be insulted at the suggestion. Besides, he’d been talking to Mitla even more than usual for him lately, and he needed another human around for a while; he needed Scully around, in particular.

He’d allowed her to shower first, scrub off the smoke and soot and sweat, whilst he battened down the hatches, locking windows and doors tight just in case. The remains of drones Mitla had taken down scattered the floor and she sat preening on his desk, proud of herself for protecting the house. He was proud of her, too, and scratched behind her ears and dug a treat out from one of the drawers.

And then Scully was coming down the stairs and he was enchanted, because how couldn’t he be with her soft smile and pinked skin, damp hair dripping onto his old t-shirt. A paw batted at his hand and he looked down, lowering his arm so Mits could scamper up onto his shoulder, before looking back at her. She’d paused, fingers brushing the faces in the photos that adorned the staircase. Most were of her family, some of him and Sam, one professional shot of her and William together, and the rest were of them, disposable camera shots from their time on the run and polaroids from the year they were together before it all went wrong and a few digital images she’d had printed after he was pardoned. She’d not taken them when she left, leaving most of her belongings mixed with his: fleeing in the night tends not to give much time for gathering trinkets.

‘My photo of William was on my nightstand. I didn’t have another copy of that one.’

‘It might still be okay. Your bedroom wasn’t as bad as the rest of the house.’

She shook her head, sighed, ‘I asked one of the firemen if the photos in there had survived. He said anything against that interior wall was gone. The gas line in the kitchen ripped it apart.’

‘I’m sorry, Scully.’

‘It’s fine,’ she cleared her throat, looked over at him, ‘I’m just glad I left most of the photos with you. I think I’m going to take the sofa tonight, Mulder. I fit on it better than you, and besides, you’re not as young as you once used to be.’

‘You can say that again,’ he murmured, ‘but I want you to take the bed. No negotiating.’

She smiled sadly at him, ‘no, Mulder. That’s not how this works. Go have a shower whilst I make the couch up.’

He sighed as he conceded, letting Mitla ride his shoulders all the way upstairs and out of her sight.

 He’d left Mitla on the bed. There was a patch of dark fur in her spot, and he’d left her on it figuring Scully wouldn’t want the company of an animal she detested, and figuring Mitla wouldn’t be overly keen on spending the evening with Scully, either, after her reports of the cat’s behaviour whilst he was in hospital with his broken leg. So he’d left her on the bed, curled up to sleep.

Only now, she wasn’t on the bed. And Mitla, attachment issues abundant, rarely left the bed when he was showering, unless it was to pad into the bathroom and sit on the toilet lid. She rarely left his side, in fact, when he was home. She was always trailing behind him or running in front of him or on his shoulder or lap. Instead of jogging around the land in the morning, he’d taken to going for brisk walks with her on a harness, trotting along beside his heels.

The sight he got when he walked downstairs was unexpected. Scully snoring as she sat slouched on the couch, fingers curled in the soft fur of the cat sleeping peacefully on her lap. Every interaction he’d witnessed between the two had been icy at best, an arm and a tail’s length between them at all times when possible.

She was going to get a crick in her neck sleeping like that. And then she’d be irritable in the morning. And an irritable Scully was not a fun Scully. So he approached carefully and crouched down before her, stroking Mitla’s head a couple times before he tapped her knee, then brushed a strand of hair back from her eyes, ‘come to bed, Sleepyhead.’

‘M’kay,’ she nodded as she stirred, still slipping in and out of sleep. He chuckled, slipped his arms under her armpits and knees, hoisting her up and chuckling when the cat didn’t even stir, just curled further into Scully’s warmth. He didn’t blame her, envied her a little, or maybe even a lot. He elbowed off light switches as he went, manoeuvred upstairs with skill honed from years of practice of carrying her up after she fell asleep on the couch. He lay her down on her side of the bed and only then did Mitla wake, scampering out of the way of the duvet being tucked around her and up to sleep on the pillow next to Scully’s head. He smiled at them for a moment, somewhat surprised; Mitla’s spot on the bed was next to his feet on his side.

‘Mulder?’ she murmured sleepily as just as he was turning away to leave.

‘Hmm?’

‘Please don’t hurt me again.’

‘I...’ he hesitated, reached out to take her hand lightly in his own, ‘I never want to hurt you again, Scully,’ he whispered.

‘Mulder?’

‘Hmm?’

‘Stay. I don’t want Mitsy thinking I’m stealing her human.’

‘Scully, you had me years ago. You just have to learn to share.’

Tagging @today-in-fic

#my writing #fox mulder is a cat person #and I will die on this hill #he's introverted he's quiet he's autistic he avoids eye contact he's curious #he is a cat person #my case is rested my lord #xf fanfic #txf #msr #revival era #season 11

[gaycrouton]

Ray of Light

For the first time since being back, he felt the heaviness weighing him down start to fade away. The fog had lifted and he could see the life he’d actually come back to — one where the love of his life was carrying his child. Not a life that had gone on without him, but one that desperately needed him there.

Alternatively; Mulder and Scully's first time after he's returned.

angst and pregnancy smut | discussions of trauma | msr | 7k | ao3 | dedicated to the wonderful @sclly​

Before Mulder had been abducted, he was finally in a relationship with Scully, or at least that's what he thought of it as. They didn't use the words dating or boyfriend and girlfriend, but they spent every night together, they were intimate in every possible sense of the word, and he'd never felt more loved in his entire life.

When he returned, she was pregnant, had a new partner at work, and on his first night back she drove back to her apartment and left him alone.

Looking back, he knew she was respecting the fact he said he needed time to process everything, but she had no idea how much it added to his confusion. He was uncertain of where he stood with Scully, so he buried himself in his work since it's where he felt most secure, despite her protests. Mulder knew people thought he was being rude, hell even he did at times, but every time he looked into Scully's eyes, he saw nothing but worry and sympathy.

Yesterday he'd broken into the census bureau with Agent Doggett, only for it to be a bust. They'd been laying low at Scully's apartment ever since, and the awkward tension between them just kept mounting. He tried to think of what to say, only to end up feeling like anything he said would come across as curt, and he wanted to avoid saying something else that might hurt her. The last thing he ever wanted was him coming back from the dead just to continue making her sad.

The first thing he noticed about his apartment was that it didn't look like the apartment of a man who'd been missing for months. It was spotless. Cleaner than he'd ever seen it. It made his heart ache thinking of the Scully who was so firm in her convictions he'd come back that she had clearly spent a lot of time making the apartment look great for his return. It made him feel even worse thinking of what response she'd imagined he'd have upon seeing it, only to be met with pure apathy.

As soon as he realized the molly was dead it just felt like a cosmic kick while he was already down. It might've just been one fish that could easily be replaced for $2, but that particular fish was part of a pair Scully had given him early in their partnership when she wasn't sure what he'd like as a gift. She'd been shy and sweet when she presented the black and white duo swimming together in a bag. "These were the only two left and I didn't want to split them up." He'd put them in the tank and, while the black one blended in with the others he had, the white one always swam around and reminded him of her. Now he couldn't even have that.

Despite the lack of communication happening right now, and how much work had been put into making him feel like his space was ready for him to come back, he still found himself staying at her apartment most nights. That first night he spent alone in his place was filled with dream after dream getting tortured — saws going into his chest, his skin being pulled from his body, the pain he could still feel resonating in his bones like a phantom limb. He'd wake up every few hours to the sounds of his own screams resonating off the empty apartment walls. There was always a pause where he waited for her to roll over or for the sounds of her footsteps to rush down the hallway, but it never came. The only thing that brought him comfort was that the bed smelled like her.

It didn't matter how clean his apartment was because that was never what he was coming back to. Scully was his home, and without her, he felt lost. Yesterday he never made a move to leave and she never asked him to. He wasn't sure if he was welcome in her bed, so he purposefully stayed up later than her and passed out on her couch. As had been their rapport as of late, she didn't say anything, but he could tell from her hurt expression that he'd made the wrong decision.

Luckily he could always trust Scully to know how to be his ray of light whenever he managed to lose his footing in the darkness.

"I know how you feel," she murmured lightly while sitting next to him on the couch.

It was so out of the blue he wasn't sure what to respond. The show they'd been watching had gone to commercial break and, apparently, so had them pretending everything was normal. He turned to her, wanting her to know he was giving her his full attention.

"When I came back, I um," she paused, her fingers starting to play with the silken edge of a maternity pajama top. "I felt so out of place within my own life. I felt like I didn't know how to be myself in a world that had gone on without me."

The irony was not lost on him that what he remembered most of those few months after she came back was how frustrated he'd been with her pushing herself. She'd taken a mere week off to recover from they didn't even know what injuries, and she was demanding to work as if all was fine. Mulder recognized it as a diversion tactic, it was more comfortable to focus on work than to process trauma, but he'd gotten frustrated with her, and here he was doing the same thing. The only difference seemed to be she knew from experience it didn't help.

"It took me years to feel like I'd caught up. I still have a hard time grappling with those months I was gone, and that I'll never get that time back. All the things I might've done in that time that were robbed from me. I remember when three months passed since I'd been returned, when I'd been back as long as I'd been missing, I still didn't feel fully like myself. Every external factor was the same, it was just me having a hard time adapting."

He listened to her, entranced by her admission. When he asked how she was doing back then, he'd gotten a lot of 'fines,' and he ended up not asking anymore in fear he was prying and annoying her. To hear her speak so candidly about her experience made him want to go back in time and hug the young woman who felt like he did now. He knew he was empathizing as best he could back then, but now having experienced what it's like, he realized there was no way he could have fully understood the depth and complexity of her emotions.

Scully turned to him with a deep breath and took his hand in her own. "I couldn't imagine coming back to every aspect of my life being different. I at least had the comfort of familiarity when I returned, and I could assimilate back into my old life while trying to process my trauma. I'm sorry if I was rushing you earlier when you said you were having problems processing and figuring out how you fit in."

Her ability to articulate what he was feeling was a relief, and almost eerie. Mulder knew he should say something so she didn't feel like she was talking to a brick wall, but she was saying it better than he ever could and he had missed the sound of her voice.

"I guess what got me through your absence was imagining your return," she admitted, confirming his earlier belief about her being at his apartment which now felt like a diorama of her grief. "I hate it when you're sad, so I didn't want to imagine you that way. It was wrong of me to cling to an image of you who'd come back and react like everything is fine when I know firsthand how unrealistic of an expectation that is to meet."

Mulder knew it was a sensitive question to ask, but he wanted to know. "How did you get through it when you thought I was dead? When it didn't seem like there was a possibility of me coming back?"

Scully's hold on his hand tightened as her face crumpled slightly. He squeezed her hand and stroked the skin on the back of her hand encouragingly. "I tried not to think of how you looked laying in that field," she stated, her voice quivering before a sharp staccato inhalation.

Shit. He hadn't even thought of the fact Scully might have seen his body like that. It made sense she'd want to see it and confirm for herself, Scully was a scientist who needed proof above all else, but he'd imagined her mourning his body on an autopsy table in the comfort of her own domain. Not that she'd seen him in whatever state he was crudely discarded in.

Mulder didn't think he could ever voice to her what he would have done if the situation was reversed and he had found her body dead in a field.

He could tell from her response that it was an image that had traumatized her, something that would no doubt haunt her for the rest of her life; but she managed to close her eyes, take a deep breath, and turn to him to continue.

There would never be a moment in his life where he wasn't astounded by her strength.

"I spent a lot of time in Karen Kosseff's office, and I just tried to focus on staying alive for the baby," she said, putting her other hand on her stomach.

His attention was drawn to the hand rubbing her stomach and that familiar knot of jealousy formed in his throat, threatening to choke him. Someone else had granted her the miracle he wanted to give her and there was nothing he could do about it. He didn't even know if it was his place to be upset about it or if he was overstepping. The first time she'd done IVF, when she'd asked him, he felt included — like no matter what, he'd be a part of her and the baby's life. But clearly, she did it again and it made him feel like he hadn't actually needed to be a part of the process. That his involvement wasn't expected or, even worse, truly wanted.

While their conversation had made him feel better, it was that bump underneath her clothes that made him feel like he wasn't invited to a part of her life he wanted to be in more than she knew. Mulder wanted to tell her he'd raise the baby like his own if she'd let him, but the thought of her saying no felt like the last thing he could take right now.

"You can always touch me. You know that, right?" she asked softly off his look.

His hand itched to reach out, but it stayed in his lap. "I'm glad the IVF finally worked for you," he replied, putting all his effort into smiling to show he meant it.

Smiling looked like the furthest thing from her mind. "What?" Scully replied, her brows furrowed in confusion.

"What?" he repeated, confused by her confusion.

Her bottom lip disappeared between her teeth as she bit it in concentration, a look of pain passing her face. "Mulder," she stated hesitantly. "Do you really believe this baby isn't yours?" she asked, hurt she was trying to hide leaking through her words.

Mulder shook his head, dumbstruck. "How could it be?"

"You were right," she shrugged. "I just couldn't give up on a miracle."

"I thought the in-vitro didn't work?" he replied.

"You do remember all the sex we were having before you were taken, right?" she deadpanned. "I trust you got the birds and the bees talk?"

"It's mine," he whispered in shock.

"It's yours," she confirmed with so much conviction his knees would have given out if he was standing. Then, with a layer of vulnerability, she added softly, "You didn't really think…"

Mulder's mind was reeling, but he could still tell she was hurt by his unspoken implication that she'd move on so quickly after how long it had taken them to get together, but he just hadn't known.

"I thought you tried in-vitro again. I thought maybe you asked someone else," he answered weakly, the statement out loud sounding ridiculous to his own ears.

"Who else do you think I'd ask? Skinner?" she asked.

He wasn't going to admit it, but he'd considered it. When he was in the hospital he saw how protective Skinner was of her, how close they seemed to have gotten since he'd been gone. Retrospectively he could see that they likely didn't have many people they could turn to when they were looking for him, so it made sense they would have gotten closer.

"I thought maybe an anonymous donor," he answered with a grimace.

"I could barely get out of bed when you were taken, let alone decide it would be a great time to have a baby," she replied. "Though I will say, I'm glad I had a part of you with me to get me through this. I'm not sure how I would have handled it if I wasn't so concerned with keeping myself healthy for the baby. If I even could have."

Mulder couldn't handle thinking about that, so he focused on her delicate hand resting in his own, the hands that had healed him in more ways than he could count. He pulled it up to his lips and kissed her fingers, inhaling the smell of her lotion as he reveled in the feeling of her skin on his lips once more. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "I-I just thought since it didn't work that time and then I saw you pregnant that maybe it was my fault it failed in the first place. I didn't mean to make you feel like I resented you. I never did for a second. I was just depressed that the life I'd been wanting for you and I was happening without me."

Her fingers tightened around his as he pressed their joined hands to his heart. "You're here now," she replied with an encouraging smile.

For the first time since being back, he felt the heaviness weighing him down start to fade away. The fog had lifted and he could see the life he'd actually come back to — one where the love of his life was carrying his child. Not a life that had gone on without him, but one that desperately needed him there.

He looked down at her swollen stomach and felt a smile break out on his face. Scully was pregnant with their baby. The words didn't even feel real. It felt too good to be true. She tugged his hand towards her and brought it to her stomach, pressing it against her bulge while splaying out his fingers. When Mulder looked up, she was smiling back at him and he realized how much he'd missed seeing that. He had never touched a pregnant woman's stomach before, and he was shocked at how firm it was. "What does it feel like?" he asked, astonished.

"At times, lovely, but most of the time I'm exhausted, feel disgusting, and look like an elephant," she chuckled.

He looked up at her and took note of how long and shiny her hair looked and how she truly exemplified that pregnancy 'glow' he always heard people talk about. She was absolutely radiant.

"You're beautiful, Scully," he murmured firmly. "Always."

He watched as tears immediately pooled in her eyes and her lip quiver. "Hey, hey, hey," he replied, scooting over and wrapping an arm around her to pull her into a hug. She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face into the crook of his neck, pressing kisses to his skin after littering it with her tears. She smelled like cocoa butter and her skin felt unimaginably smooth. "Are you okay?" he murmured into her shoulder.

Scully pulled away slightly with a chuckle and shook her head. "Yeah, I've just been so emotional because of the hormones and I've hated how things were between us and I'm just so happy you're here," she explained, her voice quivering near the end. Without a moment's hesitation, he closed the gap between them, pressing his mouth to hers as if the mere act could be his benediction — a plea for an absolution only she could give.

She met him with equal fervor and for the first time in days, he was home, he finally felt alive.

It was different, kissing her while she was pregnant. It took more maneuvering than he was used to, but he liked it. Every time her stomach grazed his, he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and overwhelming affection for her. "I missed you," she whispered against his lips between kisses. "So much."

He let his hands roam through her hair as they kissed, amazed at how thick it was and how the longer strands felt weaving like water in and out of his fingers. Mulder was surprised at the tonal change, but he figured it made sense. They deserved this little piece of heaven after the hell they'd just been through. Being in her arms was exactly where he wanted to be.

Somewhere between Scully pulling on his shirt and their legs shifting against each other, they ended up with Scully laying on her back on the couch while Mulder hovered above her. He was being mindful of not putting any weight on her stomach as he began kissing one of the tendons of her neck, smiling as he felt her pulse thrum under his tongue. A shiver went down his spine as he felt her rake her long fingernails sensually down his back. He moved to the other side of her neck and kissed the vibrations of her moan.

The moment he registered something tickle his inner thigh, she already began palming him through the front of his grey sweatpants, eliciting a hearty groan. He felt his eyes flutter shut in ecstasy as she deftly moved her wrist, stroking him firmly through the fabric. "Scully," he rasped between clenched teeth, burrowing his face into her neck while pumping against her hand.

"Mulder," she rasped.

He pulled away to look at her and watched as she turned away and coughed. Realizing her rasp was out of a lack of breath and not lust, he sat back on his legs out of concern he'd been pressing on her. "Are you okay?" he panted.

She reached out for his arm and he pulled her up into a sitting position. "Yeah," she nodded with a smile. "The baby just smashes my lungs if I'm on my back for too long."

"Do you want to stop?' he asked, rubbing her arms.

"Absolutely not," she replied firmly before she all but pulled him off his feet and led him by the hand to the bedroom.

"What they say about pregnant women's sex drives must be true then, huh?" he teased, following behind her with his own bounding footsteps.

Upon entering her room she turned to him with a mock-severe look, "You have no idea."

Her intensity and the hunger in her eyes made his cock twitch. Mulder pulled her to him, pressing his arousal to her stomach. "I think I can help with that," he murmured.

He brought his hands up in between them and started undoing the buttons of her nightshirt, noting how her nipples were protruding against the fabric. When he'd done research after she initially brought up in-vitro and having a baby, he learned about how much more sensitive women's bodies became. Out of curiosity, he let one finger stray from his mission to flick one nipple teasingly.

His eyes widened with the intensity of her gasp. "Sorry, my breasts are sensitive," she chuckled breathily, confirming his suspicions.

"I didn't even know that was a possibility for you," he teased, knowing he'd made her come from breast play alone before. Not wanting to neglect the other side, he let the back of his index finger graze over the other pebbled nipple and watched as it seemed to become impossibly harder, her breath almost becoming labored from just that.

This was going to be fun.

When the last button was undone, he raked his fingers up her body in between the flaps of fabric. He gently touched the darker line that was running up the middle of her stomach, only pausing to lightly touch her now protruding belly button.

She laughed huskily and did a little pivot sway away from him. "That tickles," she chastised playfully.

He chuckled along with her as he went to her shoulders, sliding his hands under the fabric so that it slid down her arms behind her, fluttering down in a heap at her feet. The sight of her standing shirtless while pregnant in front of him was enough to take his breath away.

It was initially almost imperceivable, but he saw her hands instinctively go to cover herself, only to hesitate and join self-consciously in front of her stomach. At that moment it struck him that it hadn't been a one-off comment in the living room: she really felt insecure about herself. She was trying to hide it, her trust for him feeling like the greatest honor, but he could still see it in her demeanor change. "You have no idea how sexy you are," he praised when he caught her eye.

"Mulder, you don't ha-" she began with a slight shake of her head.

"Don't," he whispered. Mulder raised his hands and cupped her jaw in his palms, coaxing her to look at him fully and see his sincerity. "I love your body. You're carrying our baby, and I'm in awe of you. Scully, you are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen in my entire life, and that most certainly hasn't changed. I don't want to see you doubt yourself."

He was glad to see he hadn't lost the ability to make her blush since he'd been gone. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were misty again. "Thank you," she mouthed, her voice a ghost of a whisper. Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss to her forehead, each cheek, and the tip of her nose before finally resting on her lips, hoping to convey his earnest adoration.

Scully's tongue slid into his mouth to deepen the kiss as her hands wrapped around him, sliding up under his shirt to play with the skin of his lower back. His hands slid away from her jaw and one entangled itself in her hair while the other reached around to cup the back of her neck.

However, where he anticipated meeting the slightly raised line of where he knew her little implant scar was, he felt something that felt significantly more raised. His eyes shot open as he pulled away, all other thoughts temporarily forgotten. Scully had a slightly chagrined expression on her face as her eyes tentatively peeked open.

He didn't wait before walking around her, gently moving her hair aside so he could have a better look at the back of her neck. The ghost of the white little scar he was anticipating had suddenly become paired with a raised, red, and angry scar next to her old one, only this one was far newer and deeper.

This was one of his favorite spots on her body. The tiny little scar was a reminder of her strength. He liked to kiss and touch the spot he knew held the miracle that helped keep her alive. Seeing this new wound right next to it made his heart race and his body go numb. "D-did someone cut out your chip?" he asked. Immeasurable guilt started to fill him at the knowledge that someone hurt her while he wasn't there. That someone tried to take something so important. Would her cancer come back?

She turned around quickly and reached up to mirror the centering touch he'd just given her as she cupped his face with her hands, her fingers gently scratching the fine hairs near his ears.

"No. No one tried to cut out my chip," she replied firmly.

"But did they inadvertently do so? What happened?" he asked, falling into his reflexive habit of becoming one-track-minded where Scully's safety was concerned.

"It's still there. I had them x-ray me when I got to the hospital. I promise, I'm okay," she pressed. "I can fill you in on all the cases you missed later, okay?"

There must've been something on his face that made her realize he'd be focused on it until he got a little more assurance than that. With a sigh, she stroked the skin of his cheeks and stated, "I initially had a hard time letting myself trust Doggett so I went on a case alone and some cultists tried to make me a host for their God. I'm not going to go into details right now because it's gross and I'm trying to have sex right now, but Doggett found me and I had to have him cut something out of me because we were running out of time. I promise it's not as bad as it looks."

"Doggett did that to you?" he repeated, the image of the man cutting her burning into his mind.

She rolled her eyes and looked at him pointedly. "I think you missed the part where I said I told him to. He saved my life, Mulder." She moved her hands down to rest on his chest, roaming his muscles with clear appreciation. Then she looked up at him with big eyes while teasingly pouting her lip. "I don't want to talk about Doggett or cases right now. I've missed you so much and I thought about this for months. Please don't make me wait anymore. I promise I'm okay and I'll fill you in on everything later. Just be here with me," she pleaded.

Mulder could never say no to her when she asked like that, so despite his curiosity, he smiled and nodded. They were in no rush, they had plenty of time. He'd ask questions tomorrow.

Tonight was for her.

"Okay," he replied, tucking an errant hair behind her ear.

"Good," she smirked triumphantly, a devilish gleam twinkling in her eye. "I don't want to be the only one half-naked anymore," she demanded.

His hands slid down her body and he smirked when he felt goosebumps arise in their wake. "You're right, you should be fully naked," he replied, tugging on the elastic waistband of her pajama pants. She let him slide the silk shorts down her legs, no underwear much to his delight, and she was visibly shivering in excitement as he palmed her bare hips in his hands as he stood back up.

Not wanting to dismiss her wishes though, he quickly rid himself of his shirt and his sweatpants so they were both standing nude. "Get on the bed," he commanded lowly.

She hummed in appreciation and crawled onto the bed, the roundness of her stomach visible between her thighs as she made her way up to the headboard and her arousal glistening prominently. She was so wet it was already leaking onto her inner thighs and he felt proud to have been the cause. His erection that had weaned when they were talking about her injury had sprung back in full force upon seeing her fully naked again. God, he missed her.

Despite his arousal and excitement, he couldn't help but feel robbed of the opportunity to see these developments occur over time. Mulder wished he could have seen her body slowly change and develop as new life grew inside her. Suddenly he painfully related to her earlier sentiment regarding feeling indignant about the time that had been taken and all the moments he was robbed of. He wanted to hold her hair back when she had morning sickness, he wanted her to jump his bones anytime she wanted because of her hormones, and he wanted to be there every time she had a moment of doubt that told her she was anything other than beautiful so he could tell her how wrong she was.

They'd made love quite a lot in their short time together between her coming to his bed that night he got back from England and his being abducted, but as far as intimate relationships went, it was all still relatively new. He had only just started feeling confident he was proficient in the body and pleasure of Dana Scully. He'd been cataloging every freckle, memorizing every moan and gasp in the hopes of recreating them, and now he felt out of practice. Her body had changed and he was determined tonight to worship her and become reacquainted with her. He wanted to know the intricacies of Dana Scully both inside and out.

Mulder wanted to take his time. Crawling onto the bed after her, he approached her sitting form and kissed her while on his hands and knees. He knew there were going to be many new pregnancy-related changes, but now he was going to look out for any new scars or injuries that happened since they were last together. He just wanted to know so he could start to create a new future. Her skin was pale and delicate, her veins pale and blue underneath her skin like the blue lines on pulpy parchment. He wanted to use his tongue to write odes on her skin, he wanted to fill the spaces between the lines with 'I love you's, pink scrapes of his stubble, hickies left in his mouth's wake — he wanted her body to be a diary of his love. It was his goal to replace the memory of harsh, cruel hands and evil intentions and leave behind nothing but reassurances of his love and affection for her.

He pulled back, enjoying the way her body leaned forward instinctively to keep them connected, and watched as a content expression crossed her face. Her eyes fluttered open and she grinned impishly at him.

"What positions work best for you?" he asked.

"I don't know," she replied in amusement. "I've never had pregnancy sex before."

"We're like virgins," he joked.

"Oh absolutely," she deadpanned, placing a hand on her severely pregnant stomach for emphasis.

Mulder snickered before he maneuvered onto his back, his cock bobbing in the air emphatically. He was adjusting himself when he felt Scully's knee come to nestle against his hip, her other going over him so she was sitting on his lap. Pausing his movements, he watched as she grabbed his erection and brought it closer to herself. However, instead of easing up on her knees and guiding him inside of her like he thought she was doing, she rocked back and forth while pressing his cock against her folds, rubbing his head against her clit with each movement.

"Fuck," he moaned, his hips inadvertently snapping up from pleasure and causing her to moan at the unexpected contact.

She continued her ministrations until her knees had his hips in a death grip and her movements were becoming erratic as her orgasm built. Mulder watched as she lifted herself up, but he pivoted his hips before she could sink onto him.

"Wait," he rasped.

"Mulder," she whined, dragging out his name as she pouted.

The sight amused him, and he nearly gave in. "There's something I need to do first," he explained.

"Do you have to do it right no-"

"Scoot up here and grab the headboard," he instructed.

Her pout quickly turned into a smile and an enthusiastic, "Oh!"

Doing as he instructed, she made her way up his body until she was straddling his face. "It's weird not being able to look down and watch you," she remarked once she braced her hands against the headboard.

Utilizing the way her stomach eclipsed his head underneath her to his advantage, he latched his mouth onto her clit without warning and added suction. "Shit!" she gasped, her body jerking in surprise. He reached his arms around her thighs so she was locked in place as he ran his tongue along her seam. She was so wet the mere contact had already drenched the lower half of his face. Her labia was swollen red from arousal and if her movements a moment ago were any indication, she was close to coming already.

He plunged his tongue inside of her and curved it so he was pressing against her inner wall, alternating between the pointed tip of his tongue and the flat of it when it was relaxed. He licked his lips and savored the taste of her. It was distinguishably Scully, but slightly different, sweeter, than he remembered. Even though his arms were around her thighs, she was still squirming as best she could. Knowing going back to her clit was what was going to send her over the edge, he swirled around it teasingly. Once, twice, then he latched on with suction while flicking the pointed edge of his tongue mercilessly against her clit.

A gasp tore from her lungs and was immediately followed by her panting his name with so much reverence it sounded like a prayer. Mulder felt her thighs start shaking and quivering against him with the power of her orgasm, and he didn't stop until she jerked away from him and placed a hand on his shoulder to signal she was too sensitive.

Scully adjusted herself so she was back in her original position, only stopping once to give him a deep kiss on the mouth. Mulder was too focused on what she was going earlier to notice much more, but now that she was sitting on his lap in the glow of the lamp, he realized her breasts were fuller now. Sitting up without dislodging her, he brought his hands up to cup them, playing with their weight in his hands. Scully's eyes shut in pleasure as her head rolled to her shoulder, leaning forward into his touch.

Mulder bent his head down and flicked his tongue over a pebbled nipple before taking the darkened areola into his mouth and sucking. "Mmm," she moaned, squirming against him in desperation for any contact. His cock was grinding into the flesh of her ass as she ground her clit desperately into his pubic bone.

He let go of one nipple to take a few deep breaths before moving onto the other one to give it the same attention. One hand was resting on the curve of her hip, stabilizing Scully, while the other rubbed her other breast and sternum. Mulder was so focused on playing with her, that he didn't fully register her grab his forearm so she could bring his hand to her face until he felt her lips clamp around his thumb. He felt his cock throb at the feeling of her hot, wet mouth sucking on his thumb.

Mulder released her breast with an audible suction as he looked up at her. If he let himself, he could have come from the look in her eyes alone. Scully kept her gaze even as she swirled her tongue around his thumb lewdly. He playfully bent it in her mouth and watched as her lips opened into a breathy chuckle. Pulling his hand away, he lowered it so he could spread her saliva around both her nipples, blowing a stream of cool air on them to make her shiver. He watched her nipples tighten in front of him before resting his hand on her inner thigh so he could swirl his thumb around her swollen clit.

"I want you," she gasped as she swiveled her hips to compliment his ministrations.

"Like this?" he asked.

"No," she mused. Then with displeasure added, "My knees are starting to hurt."

"Try laying on your side," he suggested, easing himself up as she got off him.

She laid down and faced the wall, presuming he was going to spoon up behind her. "What're you doing?" she asked when she saw him at her knees.

"Face the other way," he replied, straddling her bottom leg while bringing the other to rest against his hip. This way she could lay down on her side and wouldn't have to exert herself as much.

"Are you comfortable?" he asked.

While she was still laying on her side, she was pivoting slightly so she could face him. "Yeah," she replied while rubbing her top leg against his encouragingly.

He reached down and grabbed his shaft, rubbing the tip tauntingly between her folds before slowly easing himself into her. He watched her face to make sure he wasn't hurting her, but all he saw was an expression of content bliss. "You feel so good," she sighed, tilting her hips to give him room to go deeper.

"Jesus, Scully," he groaned in ecstasy as her walls clamped down around him like a vice.

One of her hands went to one of his legs and she began grasping at him, seemingly just wanting to touch him in any way she could. "More," she demanded.

As much as he wanted this to last for as long as possible, he was in no condition to deny her. He began pumping his hips against her, feeling her walls stretch to accommodate him as he slid in and out of her. Her breasts were bouncing tantalizingly and he watched as she brought her other hand up and began cupping herself, moving from one breast to the other haphazardly.

Leaning forward slightly, Mulder let his hand roam across her stomach, feeling the way it moved with each thrust. It was an odd experience, but insanely erotic at the same time. He repositioned his knees a little bit so he could angle his hips to try to hit her g-spot. Mulder had been pretty proficient at finding it before, but he felt his spongy head rubbing against the grooves of her front walls and he hadn't heard her telltale gasp yet.

He rocked his hips a little differently, trying a little farther back, and he saw her body tense as her breathing hitched. There it is. "Please don't stop," she begged breathlessly, her hands moving to grab fistfuls of the bedspread. He picked up the pace, hitting the same area repeatedly with the tip of his cock while sounds of pleasure flew out of her mouth mindlessly. "Yes. Need. Please. So good. More. Mulder," variants of those words at different volumes and tones with intermittent moans.

He felt a coil start to tighten in his abdomen and he knew he was close. Scully was too as she reached around her stomach to rub her clit with her middle and ring fingers. "That's it, Scully," he praised, locking eyes with her while their mutual bliss grew.

With one quick snap of his hips, he watched as her eyes widened and her jaw dropped open as her body trembled with her orgasm. It was clearly taking a conscious amount of effort to keep her eyes open, and he was grateful for it because seeing her come undone was the single most beautiful and erotic thing he'd ever seen. The visual combined with the feeling of her spasming around him caused him to come right after her.

Scully stroked his hair as he caught his breath. "You mean so much to me," she mused out loud, her hand moving to cup his jaw while her thumbs carefully brushed over the scars on his face.

He still felt self-conscious about them, even though he knew it was silly and Scully herself said they'd heal soon. Trying to ignore his insecurities, he bent down to kiss her before he moved so that he was spooning her from behind, pulling a light blanket over them as he put his arm around her.

"Thank you, Scully," he murmured into her hair.

"I think you're the one who deserves the thank you. My knees would have given out a long time ago," she replied, placing her hand on top of the hand he'd placed on her stomach.

He chuckled lightly before shaking his head. "I wasn't talking about that, though I think you deserve some appreciation anyway," he remarked, kissing the crown of her head.

"Then what for?" she yawned.

"Everything," he stated simply.

He felt her about to say something but he interrupted her with a gasp when he felt something press against his palm. "Did you feel that?" she replied excitedly, her hand pressing into his and moving it slightly.

"Was that-"

"The baby kicked," she replied, the smile audible in her tone.

"Did it hurt?" he asked, it felt pretty strong against his hand, he couldn't imagine the internal version of that.

"Not really. It's oddly comforting unless it's on my bladder," she replied. "It's probably going to happen again."

They both laid in silence together for a moment in anticipation, only to simultaneously disrupt it with excited laughs when the baby kicked again. "That's amazing," he replied in awe.

"It really is," she mused in kind.

"Do you know what it reminds me of?" he asked.

"You better not say-"

"- the movie Alien," he replied, smiling when he heard her amused sigh.

He rubbed her stomach gently, both to touch Scully and to start trying to connect with the kid. "Do you know if it's a boy or a girl?" he asked.

"Maybe, but I won't tell," she lilted cheekily.

"That's evil, Scully," he tsked, nudging her lightly with his knee. "I guess it doesn't matter. No matter what, the minute their little arms can hold up a bat I'm going to teach them how to play ball. You can help me since you've received top-notch training from the best," he declared.

Instead of responding, she turned so that she could look at him, and he realized she was crying. "Hey, hey. It's okay," he stammered, moving to stroke her hair and wipe away her tears.

"I'm so relieved you're here. I missed you so much and I was so scared I was going to have to do this alone," she sobbed, clutching his hand like he was going to disappear again if she let go.

Mulder felt his throat start to tighten in sympathy and he held her tighter while kissing her temple. He'd suffered so much when he was taken, but so had she. They were only ever going to get through the emotional scars if they were together. "I'm here, Scully, I promise. I'm yours forever."

#x files #x files fanfic #msr #mulder #scully #fanfic #pregnancy #three words #angst

[baronessblixen]

O Holy No (10/10)

Today's prompt: elf on the shelf proposal

Summary: It's Christmas morning. (wc: 1,152)

Tagging @today-in-fic

“Mr. Mulder is Santa!” A child screams, and then a chorus breaks out, and someone tugs at Mulder's sleeve while another child jumps up on the couch with him and Scully. What a way to wake up.

“What is going on?” he asks groggily, staring into a young child’s face. Freckles, red hair, and a very familiar nose. She must be a Scully, but he’s forgotten her name.

“Santa came,” the girl says in awe. “I think,” she trails off, taking a deep breath, “I think he brought a bike.” Mulder’s heart swells watching how excited the child is. Maybe one day he and Scully... he doesn't have the time to think of what if's and possibilities, because this girl isn't done interrogating him.

“Are you really Santa?” she asks him, her expression showing the familiar skepticism.

“Maybe,” he says and the girl’s eyes grow wide.

“He’s not Santa,” one of the older kids says. “He’s Aunt Dana’s boyfriend.”

“Auntie Dana is married to Santa Claus!”

“Hey Scully,” Mulder says, while the kids start looking through the gifts, the adults filing into the living room, not even half as excited as their offspring. “Did you hear? We’re married now.”

“Hm?” She’s barely awake, cracking open an eye. How she slept through all this is a mystery to him. She can sleep anywhere, anytime – and through everything. It makes him fall in love with her just a little bit more. After last night, he didn’t think that was possible. The gift she gave him means more to him than he could put into words. And then there was what she said to him. I love you. She said it, the three small words. The jury is still out on how they’ll cope once they’re back in the real world, away from this candy cotton-flavored fairytale they’re living. But he’s hopeful. He’s a believer.

“Let’s get some coffee, hm?” Mulder helps her up and leads a sleepy Scully into the kitchen where they meet Mrs. Scully.

“Good morning, you two.” She and Mulder exchange a smile, Scully goes straight for the coffee. “Do you have any idea who did this?” Mrs. Scully asks and points at the kitchen table where an elf sits with an engagement ring in his hand. She’s looking at him as if waiting for him to admit that he’s the one who put it there, ready to ask Scully for her hand in marriage. For once, he's completely clueless.

“Um,” is all that he gets out. Scully, now with a cup of coffee in her hand, joins him and almost chokes.

“Mulder?” she asks, her voice squeaky.

“No,” he says quickly. “It wasn’t me. I swear.”

“It was me,” Bill says, walking into the kitchen with Matthew in his arms. Both father and son look like they didn’t get much sleep. “I had some help from my own little elf, right, Matty?” The boy grins up at his father.

“You’re already married,” Scully says

“I know, but I-” he trails off when Tara walks into the kitchen. Mulder just watches the two of them, a smile appearing on his face. “There she is,” Bill says, reaching for her hand. Tara comes cheerfully, giggling, and exchanging looks with the rest of them.

“What is happening here? Why is our elf on the shelf holding a ring? Bill?”

“Tara Scully, I want to ask you to marry me – again. We had to get married so quickly last time because I was leaving. This time I want us to have the big wedding you always dreamed about. Our son will be there, and our families. What do you say?”

“Oh, Bill.” She throws herself at her husband and her son who squeals in delight. Mrs. Scully, teary-eyed, joins in. Mulder pushes Scully towards her family and she goes willingly. He just watches the moment, glad he was able to witness it.

“That is the best Christmas gift you could have given me,” Mulder hears Tara whisper, crying openly. He wants to quietly slip away, thinking he should leave them alone now. Someone grabs his arm and to his surprise, it’s not his Scully.

“I’m hoping you’ll be there, too. When Tara and I get married,” Bill says. “As my sister’s date.” Mulder swallows hard and nods.

“I’d love that. Congrats, by the way.” Bill gives him a handshake and a nod. Maybe one day they will manage a hug. Looks like this won’t be the last time he’s present at a family event.

“So,” Mulder says later, with Scully tugged into his side on the couch, the Christmas celebrations going on around them. “Your brother invited me to his wedding.”

“He did.”

“It was a cute proposal.” He’s not going to ask her any time soon. Or maybe ever. He knows he wants to spend the rest of his life next to her. They don’t need the party or the paper. “Hey, maybe at the wedding we can investigate the case of the stolen purple dildo.” Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Scully chuckle.

“You’re not going to give up on it, are you?” she asks him, her head against his shoulder.

“Have you ever known me to give up?” he jokes, but when she turns to him, she’s serious.

“No,” she says. “I haven’t. It’s one of the many reasons why I love you.”

“What are the others?” He’s grinning. He can’t stop. If he could, he’d preserve this moment in time. As if reading his mind, Mrs. Scully and her new digital camera find them. She’s smiling when she asks him to sit still so she can take a picture. Mulder puts his arm around Scully and grins. This is the first of many. Maybe he’ll frame it and put it up, too. Just like his picture of Samantha.

A part of him will always peek into the past, remembering his little sister. But he can commemorate this too. His and Scully’s love; a slice of happiness. He doesn’t know what’s to come, but he’s ready for it. Scully smiles at him, kisses his cheek, and giggles, mumbling something about him being scratchy. And Mulder laughs, too, the happiness just bubbling up inside of him.

Tomorrow they’ll face the world again. Mulder knows he’ll have to talk to Diana. Make her see and understand that all he’s interested in is her friendship. If she won’t listen, he’ll let her go. While spending the day with Scully and her family, Mulder gets an email with a possible new case. He shows it to Scully and he sees the interest flicker in her eyes. But that’s for later. He shuts off his phone and Scully raises an eyebrow.

“The only person I’d want to hear from today is currently giving me an adorable look.” She kisses him, laughing against his lips.

This is, without a doubt, his favorite Christmas ever.

#ficmas2023 #oholyno #i did it!!! #thank you for reading <3 #means the world to me #cause this was something new for me #msr #xf fanfic #my writing #my fic

[sisterspooky1013]

Better Than Sex

Author: SisterSpooky1013

Rating: Teen and up

Words: 1666

Tagging: @today-in-fic

Read it on AO3

“Better Than Sex Cake” Mulder read aloud from the menu before looking across the table at Scully with his eyebrows raised in question.

They had just concluded an evening traipsing through an (alleged) actual ghost town, though no signs of ghosts were to be seen. Just a lot of graffiti, dirty mattresses and a used condom or two. Now they were sitting at the first diner they came across, Mo’s Café, and Mulder was considering the sex cake.

“Knock yourself out, Mulder, I’m sticking to coffee.”

“You aren’t curious as to whether this cake is, in fact, better than sex?”

“Well I’m sure it’s better than bad sex, but if it were better than great sex the population would die out because everyone would skip procreating and just eat cake.”

Mulder considered her statement. “Isn’t ‘bad sex’ somewhat of an oxymoron?”

She gave him an incredulous look. “Are you being serious?”

Now it was his turn to look incredulous. “The only bad sex is no sex, as far as I’m concerned.”

Scully shook her head ruefully. “Must be nice to be a man.”

Just then the waitress came by to take their order. Scully requested coffee and dry toast, while Mulder opted for coffee and the aforementioned sex cake. After she collected their menus and retreated to the kitchen, Mulder eyed Scully appraisingly, gaging her mood. Sometimes she was open and willing to talk about things of a personal or private nature, other times she kept her lips as tight as a steel trap. He suspected he might have a chatty Scully on his hands, and didn’t want to waste the opportunity.

“So, if I’m understanding correctly, Scully, there would be a circumstance under which you would choose a piece of cake over sex?”

She screwed up her mouth a little, not in consideration of how to answer the question, but whether to answer it at all. “Depends who the sex is with, I suppose, but yes, I could think of a few times where cake would have been a more enjoyable option.”

“Hm” was his only reply as he sat back against the seat of the booth, absorbing this information.

“Are you saying you’ve never had sex that was subpar enough that cake would have been better?”

He pulled in a deep breath and looked to the ceiling briefly, and she could imagine him running through his mental file of sexual encounters. “I don’t think so, no.”

“Is it wrong that I feel compelled to kick you right now?” She asked, just a hint of playfulness in her voice.

He laughed.“I’m not saying that every single time was Oscar-worthy, but even the worst was still better than some flour and butter.”

“And they say male privilege isn’t real” she deadpanned as the waitress came by to present them with two coffees, cake, toast and a tray of sugar and cream. She mixed the accoutrements into her cup while Mulder sipped his black, followed by a bite of the cake, which looked like a basic white cake with some kind of custard and whipped cream on top.

“This is pretty good, though I can’t say it lives up to its name” he said around the food in his mouth, pushing the plate towards her and holding out the fork suggestively. She took it and stabbed a small bite, meeting Mulder’s eye as she pulled the tines from between her lips. It was good, as most cake is, but nothing to write home about.

“Well?” He asked expectantly.

“Well what? She returned, wiping her finger at the corners of her mouth.

“Is it better than sex?”

She paused before answering, knowing that Mulder was going to keep picking at this until it got uncomfortable. He liked to do that, to see how far he could get her to go before she blushed and demanded they change the subject. He took immense pleasure in making her squirm, and even more in getting her to reveal something personal that he normally wouldn’t be privy to. Sometimes, she had as much fun indulging him as he did in goading her. She wasn’t above sharing something that she knew would shock him, just so she could see the look on his face. She liked that she could still surprise him.

“Not better than all sex, but certainly better than some of the sex I’ve had, regrettably.”

“What would make sex so bad that cake is better? I must know.”

“I think you can use your imagination, Mulder.”

“Come on, Scully, you could be saving some poor woman from ‘worse than cake’ sex with me in the future. Consider it an act of charity.”

She shook her head at him, but couldn’t hide the smile that tugged at her lips.

“Your answer lies in that drawer full of tapes that aren’t yours, Mulder.”

“How’s that?”

“Let’s see, sex starts when the man presents his erection and ends when he ejaculates. The woman howls like an animal no matter what he’s doing, though her orgasm is never mentioned. There is no foreplay. Would you like me to continue?”

He swallowed a mouthful of coffee he’d been holding, afraid he might choke. He’d never heard her speak so openly about sex before, especially not sex she had personally experienced, and though he’d been the one who initiated the conversation he was suddenly afraid he was going to have to walk out of this diner trying to hide a bulge in his slacks.

“Fair enough, Scully, but porn isn’t real. It’s like an action movie. No one actually hangs off the skids of a helicopter mid-air, it’s just fun to watch.”

“I’m glad to hear that you’re aware of that, Mulder, and I would implore you to spread the news to the rest of the male populace.” She punctuated her statement with a loud crunch into her toast.

Mulder’s mouth fell open slightly as he studied her, trying to tell if she was joking or embellishing.

“People really do that? Have sex like they do in porn? Men you’ve slept with?”

She rolled her eyes. “Mulder, if you’re going to sit here and tell me that you have never done that, even as a young man, I’ll have to call BS.��

He put his hands up in defense. “I’m not saying I emerged from puberty as Don Juan, but I don’t recall ever not being invested in my partner’s experience. I’m sure my skills were lacking at the outset, but I always tried.”

She looked at him derisively from under her eyelashes. “Well then, you really should get out there more, Mulder. Share your gift with the world.” Her voice was laden with sarcasm.

He laughed and ran his hand over the back of his neck. “How am I coming out to be the bad guy, here Scully? I’m not the one who gave you a ‘worse than cake’ lay.”

She smiled at him but her tone remained facetious “of course not, you’ve demonstrated that your skills in this area are unparalleled.”

“Damn straight!” He said with a slap of his palm on the table, and they both erupted into laughter.

They held eye contact as the laughter subsided, awkwardness descending over the conversation. He had made reference to the two of them having sex, which was a topic he’d only made innuendo about, never mentioned directly. Trying to break the tension, Scully finally spoke.

“Well, I guess you can see why I don’t bother dating.”

“I guess I can” he replied, swiping the last crumbs of cake off the plate with his finger.

“Why don’t you date, Mulder?” His expression registered surprise. “Or do you? I don’t want to be presumptuous.” She felt a pit in her belly at the idea that he may actually have a secret love life.

“No” he spat out, chuckling a little. “No, I definitely don’t date. It’s just too complicated I guess. I’m kind of a serial monogamist anyway.”

“Really?” Now it was her turn to be surprised.

“Yeah, for the most part. I’ve had a couple flings, but the vast majority of the women I’ve slept with I was in a relationship with. The emotional aspect is important for me.”

She studied him, imagining a version of Mulder who would be so considerate and giving. She didn’t need to imagine it, really, she’d seen it. While he was capable of being selfish and obtuse, he had also been incredibly tender and caring with her on many occasions. He had certainly shown a proclivity towards chivalry; opening doors for her, walking closer to traffic on the sidewalk, helping her into her coat or holding an umbrella for her. The idea that such gestures would extend into the bedroom was logical, but it still set off a stirring in her belly. In what other ways might he be so attentive to her needs? She swallowed the last of her coffee and tried not to think about it. Maybe later, but not here. Not now.

“Well, I hate to state the obvious here, Scully, but I don’t think you’re going to happen across the guy that will give you a 5-star experience if you never put yourself out there.” As soon as the words left his mouth he wanted to kick himself; why the fuck was he encouraging her sleeping with other people?

She smiled demurely and shrugged “for now I get my thrills from ghost busting and the occasional slice of really good cake.”

He bobbed his head and smiled back, pulling out his wallet and setting his bureau credit card on the tabletop.

In truth, she had already happened across that guy. He was sitting in front of her at a shitty diner in the middle of nowhere. And while she hoped that she may enjoy that 5 star experience in the future, for now just being in his presence, laughing and seeking the answers to the mysteries of the universe together, that was better than sex.

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

[silhouetteofacedar]

Fox Mulder, Closet Romantic Ch. 8: Primate Social Behavior

Previous Chapter - AO3 - MSR, rated E

Well fuck.

Scully, to her credit, shifts gears immediately. “Mark, what a pleasant surprise!” she says, all traces of panic gone. “How was the overnight shift?” She gets up out of the booth and gives him a hug.

“Nothing notable aside from a couple reckless Saturday-night partiers and a childbirth,” he replies, dropping a kiss to the crown of Scully’s head. That’s my spot, Mulder thinks in a flash of petulance.“How about you two?” Mark asks, glancing at him. “Work late?”

Mulder is hit with a spike of nausea. He knows how this looks. They both have wet hair, and yet he’s got stubble and wrinkled clothes. They’re sloppy and drowsy and eating the exact same breakfast and oh shit this is not going to be good for her-

“You know how it is in fields like ours,” Scully says with an airy laugh, sliding back into her seat. “No such thing as a weekend.”

Damn, she’s cool as a cucumber. Mulder’s grateful, because he can barely hold himself together right now. He’s sweating down his back and his head is pounding.

“Would you like to join us?” Scully asks, gesturing to the place beside her in the booth.

Mark waves a hand. “Nah, I’m just getting a to-go order on my way home. I promised Mandy a banana muffin,” he explains. “I’ll call you later, Dana. Nice to see you again, Fox,” he adds, nodding to him.

“That was some fast thinking,” Mulder says, taking a minuscule bite of dry toast.

“How do you mean?” Scully asks, watching through the window as Mark walks down the street and out of sight.

“You acted like… like seeing him here, while looking like this…” he motions between them. “There was no shame.”

“Why would I be ashamed, Mulder?” she asks evenly.

He wilts under her blue gaze. “Forget I said anything,” he mumbles to his plate.

“No, go on. I want to hear this,” Scully says, leaning forward. “Is there something you think I should be embarrassed about here? Because the way I see it, I had a pleasant evening with my good friend, and we drank too much wine. He slept on my couch, and now we’re recovering with breakfast.” She takes a gulp of water. “Now, if there’s something you’re ashamed of…”

“No,” Mulder says carefully. “I’m just saying that appearances can be misleading, and the physical evidence - us, in our current states - is open to interpretation. However false those interpretations may be.”

Scully drops her fork to her plate with a clatter. “Jesus, Mulder, I’ve been trying to get that point across to you for years. Just because you see lights in the sky doesn’t mean they’re UFOs. Just because we’re both hungover and unkept, doesn’t mean that… that anything happened.”

“You gonna explain that to Mark? Because he looked a little suspicious.”

“If he poses any questions, I will. But from where I’m sitting, I see nothing to explain.” She picks up her fork and takes a purposeful bite of melon, punctuation at the end of the discussion.

-

His headache doesn’t start dying down until late that evening. He’s spent most of the day on his couch, alternately dozing and watching Animal Planet.

There’s a documentary about baboons on when the phone rings just after nine PM.

“Mulder,” he says tiredly.

“Fox? Fox, this is Mark Einolander,” the voice on the other end says. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything?”

Mulder sits up abruptly. “No, no; I’m just… i’m just watching this thing about baboons…” He scrambles to pull himself together. “Sorry, how did you get this number?”

“Maggie Scully,” Mark explains. “You’re one of Dana’s emergency contacts. I’m sorry to bother you, this not being an emergency, but I was hoping to talk to you about something.”

Mulder winces. It’s fine, he can’t punch you over the phone, he coaches himself. “I’m all ears,” he says, leaning back against the couch arm rest and reflexively clenching his fist in anxiety.

“First of all, I’d appreciate it if this conversation could be kept confidential,” Mark says.

“Then I should warn you, my phone’s been tapped a few times,” Mulder notes.

Mark chuckles. “I’m not worried about the government or whomever in this case,” he assures him. “I’d just prefer if Dana didn’t know.”

Mulder’s internal alarm bells start ringing. “Oh? Hate to break it to you, Mark, but you missed her birthday by nearly two months.”

Mark laughs. “I’ll make note of that,” he replies. “But I was actually hoping you could provide me with some clarity regarding a few things.”

“Such as…?”

“Well, you and Dana have been friends and partners for a long time, and I know she trusts and confides in you,” Mark says. “You of all people should know she’s a tough nut to crack, so to speak.”

“Uh huh,” Mulder replies, eyes cast to the ceiling.

“My relationship with her is very new, and we’re still getting to know each other; which means there are things I don’t believe are yet appropriate for me to ask.”

So don’t ask them, Mulder thinks with an eye roll. “Is there a point here, Mark? Because if there is I’d love for you to reach it,” he sighs.

“Of course. Sorry. What I mean is… this is very uncomfortable, I’m sorry. Has she… been with anybody? Recently? She told me she hasn’t dated in a long time, but that doesn’t necessarily mean she hasn’t… been around,” Mark finishes.

Mulder lets a stunned silence hang in the air for a moment. “Wow,” he says finally. “I was not expecting that,” he admits. His nausea from earlier has returned, and he gets off the couch and carries the cordless phone with him to the kitchen.

“Again, I’m sorry to ask, but I’m thinking long term. I want a future with Dana,” Mark rationalizes, “And insight into her character is invaluable to me. I have a young daughter, as you know. ”

Holy shit. Mulder tucks the phone between his cheek and shoulder, opening the refrigerator and pulling out a bottle of ginger ale. “If you want character references, just ask her for a copy of her latest resumé,” Mulder says flatly, taking a swig of the soda. “Or call her mother. Hell, you know her priest, right? Ask him. Or skip the middle-man and dial God directly.”

Mark is quiet for a moment. “Oh. I see,” he says softly, and Mulder braces himself. “I suspected this morning, but I wanted to give you both the benefit of the doubt-”

“I don’t want to have this discussion with you,” Mulder cuts in.

“You fucked her, right? Maybe not last night, but it’s happened before, is that correct?”

The doctor’s sudden change of tone and word choice is jarring, and Mulder’s stomach turns over. “Look, Dr. Einolander, it’s late, and I’m not feeling a hundred percent today. I’d prefer to save this frankly offensive discussion for the day we meet in hell.”

He hears Mark intake a breath. “And it’s Mulder, not Fox,” he says, and punches the off button on the phone.

He barely makes it to the bathroom.

Mulder rinses his mouth in the sink, stares absently at his own haggard face in the mirror. Who knew nice, caring, Good-Father Dr. Mark was such a massive tool?

He brushes his teeth and puts on a fresh t-shirt before returning to the couch.

He has to tell Scully, right? He has to. Friends don’t let friends date judgmental douchebags. But he doesn’t want to get involved, he really doesn’t. He’s had reasons for not wanting her to date Mark since day one; tonight’s revelation is almost a gift, but one he feels like garbage accepting. He fears his personal feelings for her are going to skew his judgment in one way or another.

No matter what he does, he’s going to feel like shit.

So he does nothing; just lies on his couch like the coward he is, watching baboons fight over a mango.

#hello yes welcome to the I Hate Mark club #msr #txf fic #xfiles #my fic #fox mulder closet romantic #fmcr #slow burn is slooooowwww

[scullysexual]

s8- post existence; morning came too soon

part 2 to this | t | second person mulder pov | season 8- post existence | wc: 777 | @today-in-fic | ao3

I'd reccommend reading Morning Don't Come before this.

- - -

Morning Came Too Soon.

The sun has risen. The birds are chirping. You know it’s time to go.

Scully lays on you, her arms wrapped around you tight. You know what she’s doing; making sure you keep your promise.

You brush a fallen piece of hair out of the way and realise, not for the first time, that you don’t want to go.

But you know you must. You just wish morning hadn’t come so soon.

A soft cry from the bedroom alerts you. You’re about to untangle yourself from Scully and see to William yourself when Scully stirs.

You’re amazed. It used to take a lot to get Scully up now all a baby needs to do is cry quietly and there she is waking.

You suppose it makes sense; some calling inside her waking her up.

She miles up at you, groggy from sleep. Your heart lifts at the sight. You never did see enough early morning smiles, you think.

Scully’s eyes widen then as realisation crosses over them.

“You stayed!”

You smile, nodding, fingers combing through her hair.

“Exactly as I promised.”

She continues to smile until her face falls. She looks towards the windows, to where the sun peeps through the curtains, reminding you both of your little time left.

“Will you stay for a little longer?” she asks and you hear the hint of plea in her voice. It ends all arguments. Against better judgement you stay.

She’s feeding William when you enter the bedroom. Your bags are packed, waiting for you by the front door, time ticking away.

You watch them, feeling a surge of protectiveness run through you. They’re yours, you think and it brings a smile to your face. Yours to keep safe.

So why are you running away?

You swallow and shift, batting that thought away. There was no room for those thoughts today. Your running is protecting them.

“He’ll be done in a minute,” she says.

“Then he’ll go back to sleep?”

She laughs. You haven’t heard her laugh in so long it stops you for a moment.

“That’s all he ever does.”

She places William down in his crib and wanders over to you. You open your arms and she goes there willingly, her face hidden in your chest. Your arms go around her holding her as tight as she holds you.

“It feels like I only just got you back.”

I know, you think. Three months. Three months and you’re gone again.

You say nothing, thinking, not for the first time, that you don’t really want to go.

You bury your head in her neck, lips coming into contact with her skin. You haven’t touched her since the night before you were taken, almost a year ago. That’s so long. So long to go without touching the person who is just an extension of you.

“Scully,” you say as need suddenly grips you. Your hands start exploring, imploring, requesting.

“It’s too soon,” she says and you can hear her own disappointment laced within her voice.

“But I can give you…something,” she adds.

Your eyes close, wishing yes.

“On one condition.”

Anything.

“You can’t wake our baby.”

Like some siren of the deep she pulled you in. Lured you in with her song and beauty and at the last second ripping you to pieces.

You resurfaced, shredded skin and new self. You resurfaced, changed.

You lie with your head cradled on her chest, face mushed against the soft skin of the breasts. The same she uses to feed your child.

Her apartment isn’t so scary now, with curtains draw, the sun casting the room in orange.

But it’s deceptive. They could bash that door down at any time.

“I have something else to give you,” she says quietly.

You pull your head up, feeling dazed.

“More?”

She smiles, pulling over her drawer. A cut piece of fabric is presented to you.

“It’s from a pillowcase. I- I washed it. I…” she bows her head, red cheeked, thoroughly embarrassed. “It’s silly.”

You reach over and take the gift from her. Bringing it up to your nose, inhaling the scent of her fabric softener, of Scully. A reminder.

“Thank you, Scully.”

You kiss her, savouring the feel, the taste. Her nails dig into your forearms, keeping you there until they release, allowing you to go.

Your foreheads rest against each other’s.

“You should go,” she says and you nod. “I’ll meet you by the door.”

You nod again, remembering how many times she said those exact words to you when you’d stay over on a worknight.

You look towards the curtains deciding, not for the first time, that morning came too soon.

#the x-files #the x files #txf fic #xfiles fanfiction #part 2 fic #s8- post existence #scullysexualwrites