Chapter Text
1.
She wore her sharpest black suit, the one with the side zipper and the skirt that stopped just above the knees. Her blouse was white silk, and she spent an absurd amount of time deciding whether three undone buttons was okay, or if she should err on the side of discretion and stick with two.
She went with three. Fuck it.
Underneath was a white balconette bra, all lace, and matching satin panties. Beautiful, sexy, timeless. Classy. It seemed like something Mulder would appreciate. She’d bought them the day before, along with similar sets in black and pale blue. She’d purchased a nightgown, too, a tiny scrap of a thing with a thin, gauzy bodice. She could wear it while they watched a movie, maybe. Not to bed, though – in bed there would be nothing but their bare skin.
She slipped into a pair of heels, buttoned her black jacket, and then considered herself in the mirror.
She looked positively wanton.
It wasn’t her clothes, of course, which were professional. It wasn’t her makeup, either, and it wasn’t the height of her heels. It was her expression. It was the pink of her cheeks and the plumpness of her lips, lips that she’d been nervously licking and biting since the moment she’d opened her eyes. She could almost see the pheromones coming off of her in cartoon-like waves. Her underwear already felt damp.
God, it was going to be a day. She hoped she survived it.
She picked up her keys and took a last look around her apartment.
She’d cleaned and she’d organized. Her kitchen was well-stocked. Two six packs of Modelo Especial sat inside her refrigerator. She’d bought frozen pizzas and a box of pasta and a hodgepodge of snacks from an aisle she almost never shopped. She had been flushed and warm while she pushed her cart, feeling like the purpose behind her purchases was completely transparent.
I will not be leaving the house for days. I will be fucked within an inch of my life, but my lover and I will not go hungry.
2.
Scully ordered a salad from the building’s cafeteria for lunch and then stared at it suspiciously, suddenly convinced that the greens and sprouts would render her bedridden with e-coli. She considered not eating (her stomach was a tangled mess anyway), then pictured herself weak with hypoglycemia and fainting as soon as Mulder touched her. There was a case filled with meal replacement shakes, but the rush of sugar would leave her jittery and cranky.
Ludicrous. You’re behaving like a fucking mad woman, so just eat the goddamn salad and pretend that everything is fine.
“Everything is fine. Everything is fine,” she muttered.
“What’s that?” the cashier asked.
“I said everything is fine.”
“Uh, sure it is, ma’am. Okay.”
She brought the salad back her desk, as she clearly wasn’t fit for civilized conversation. She picked at it, examined a pile of slides, reviewed a toxicology report and then started to summarize her findings in what she hoped would be a coherent narrative.
The decedent had high levels of (Mulder is somewhere in this building right now) fentanyl in his system, which certainly was a contributing factor (not long until I’ll be looking at his face, his gorgeous fucking face) to the cardiac arrest that ultimately led to his (and he’ll put his hands on me, his mouth) demise.
This was stupid.
“Hey, Dana?”
She spun toward the door, her hand flying to her heart. A fellow agent - Joe White, narcotics – stood there with a folder in his hand and an amused expression on his face.
“Joe! Jesus, you scared me.”
“I can see that. Why so jumpy? You look like I caught you with porn, but that appears to be work.” He nodded toward the file on her desk.
“I just didn’t expect you.” She patted her chest. “What can I do for you?”
Joe was short, boxy, kind, casually flirtatious in a way that was endearing and non-threatening. His Bronx accent was heavy, and his brown eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. She liked Joe a lot, and she was pleased that he’d shown up. He’d be a welcome distraction.
“Wondering if you could take a look at this this autopsy report and tell me what you think. I was gonna go – hey, you look great. What’s the occasion?”
“I’ve worn this a hundred times,” she said, flushing.
“Yeah, and it always looks good, but you’ve got a little something extra today. I can’t put my finger on it. Wanna get a beer later, maybe? You deserve to be seen, lookin’ like that.”
She smiled. “Thanks, but I have plans. Otherwise, I would.”
Joe sighed. He came around to sit in the chair beside her desk, flipping it around so that he straddled the back.
“Who’s the lucky guy?”
“I need to work on my poker face, apparently. I thought I was so good at it.”
“Nah, you’re fine. I’m just a fantastic detective. You’ve got a nice little glow about you and – well, I’ll keep my other observations to myself on account of us being friends and how politely you always reject my advances. But come on – who is he? Anybody I’d know?”
“Yeah, who is he?” she heard from behind her.
Her breath caught.
Mulder.
She closed her eyes for a minute, then turned to face him.
“Hi,” she said lamely.
“Hi, Scully.”
His suit was black, his shirt a light blue, his tie striped. His eyes were soft and warm, and he looked ever-so-slightly rumpled from the plane. He was, without question, the sexiest thing she’d ever seen in her life.
Should she go to him and hug him? Let him come to her? Act like a professional and shake his hand? Certainly, flinging him to the ground and climbing on top of him was out of the question. Ugh. She wanted to stand, but she knew her legs would shake.
“Well, shit. Agent Mulder, darkening the halls of the Hoover building once again. How the hell are you?” Joe was grinning broadly.
“I’m great. It’s good to see you, Joe.” Mulder smiled at Joe, then turned his gaze back to Scully. “And you, too.”
“You know Agent Scully, huh? I’m surprised; they sent you out before she started. I…” His voice trailed off as he glanced between Scully and Mulder. “No way. This is the guy?”
She watched Mulder watching her. Waiting for her response. Waiting to see if she’d claim him here, now, in front of this colleague and friend they unknowingly had in common.
“Yes.” She made herself stand and took a step toward Mulder. His eyes were moving over her, his hand reaching out, and then, from the doorway -
“Agent Mulder, glad I caught you. Kersh said you’d be in the lab, although he had no idea why.”
Grand Central Fucking Station.
She wanted to scream, but instead she forced a polite smile.
Assistant Director Skinner looked around the room, puzzled by its strange combination of inhabitants. “Good afternoon, Agent Scully. White.”
“Good afternoon, Sir,” she said faintly.
“I’m sorry to interrupt. Mulder, I’m about to catch a flight to Denver, but I need to meet with you Monday morning. We’ve caught a break in a cold case, and we need a profiler. You’re the best we’ve got. It’s fortunate that you’re here… do a good job on this, and it’ll go a long way towards putting you back in Kersh’s good graces.”
“I like the sound of that. I just met with Kersh, though, and he didn’t mention it.”
“It’s my case – he didn’t know. Now he does, and he’s on board. Cancel your flight for Monday.”
Mulder glanced at Scully. “Sure, I can do that.”
“Good. My assistant, Kimberly, will reach out to schedule a time for us to meet. Where are you staying while you’re here? I’ll ask Kimberly to call your hotel and authorize an extended stay.”
Joe sat with his arms folded across the back of the chair, chin resting on them and eyes merry with amusement. “Yeah, Mulder, where are you staying? I can call you this weekend, we can catch up. Unless you’re busy, of course.”
Mulder licked his lips and spoke carefully. “I’m not at a hotel. I’m staying with… a friend.”
Skinner nodded. “I’ll have you moved to a hotel.”
“Let me check. I’d like to keep staying where I am, but we only planned on the weekend,” Mulder said cagily.
“Mulder, if you’re going to be profiling then I’d prefer that you didn’t stay with friends. There’s going to be a lot of file materials you’re going to want to keep with you, and those shouldn’t be accessible to anyone outside of the Bureau.”
Well, this wouldn’t do. Not at all. There’s no way she wanted Mulder in some Dupont Circle hotel room when he could be with her.
Scully cleared her throat.
“Mulder is staying with me, Sir. I’m fine with the longer visit, and the file will be perfectly safe.”
“With you?” Skinner asked, squinting as if he might have misheard.
Mulder was smiling, his eyes resting on her. He looked pleased.
“Yes, with Scully,” he said.
She found herself smiling, too. This was off the rails, completely bonkers, and she realized she didn’t care. Happiness bubbled up of inside her.
“Are you running a boarding house or something, Agent Scully?” Skinner asked without much hope. “A side hustle putting up visiting agents?”
“No sir… I’m not.”
“So this is strictly…”
“Personal,” Mulder finished.
“Christ. I have a hundred questions.” Skinner pinched the bridge of his nose. “Unfortunately, I’ve got that flight.” He started to leave, then paused and looked back. “Really? You two?”
Mulder shrugged and spread open his hands. “Can you blame me?”
“No, not you. We’ll talk about this Monday.” He shook his head as he strode from the room.
“This is great. Seriously. I love this.” Joe looked between Mulder and Scully. “I bet you want me to leave, huh?”
“That would be nice,” Mulder said. “Sorry, Joe. Next time I’m here we’ll all get together. Tell Steve.”
“You bet your ass I will. He’s gonna flip his lid. I’ll need a temporary new partner while he recovers from his stroke.”
Joe rose from the chair. “Dana, it’s been a pleasure. We’ll connect on the autopsy report on Monday. Mulder… you’re a lucky fuckin’ son of a bitch.”
“Oh, I know. Shut the door on the way out, will you?”
Joe smirked. “Uh-huh.”
He left, closing the door quietly behind him.
Mulder and Scully stared at each other for a long minute. Her feet felt stuck to the floor while her heart pattered away in her chest. And then he opened his arms, and she flew to him.
He took her face in his hands and kissed her.
“Oh,” she breathed as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “God, you feel good. I missed this. I missed you so much.”
He touched his tongue to hers.
“I missed you too. This last week felt like it was a year long… you’re all I could think about.”
Their kiss stretched, deepened, and she was breathless when they finally broke apart.
“We should get out of here. Where’s your suitcase?”
He stepped back and smoothed her hair into place, then leaned in to kiss her forehead. “I left it at the security desk. Let’s go.”
Moving through the hallway with Mulder beside her was surreal, like being in a dream. They walked close together, his hand on her lower back, his palm hot through her layers of clothing. She could feel the curious stares of their colleagues. Maybe people wondered about her connection to the infamous Agent Mulder, or perhaps about his to the Ice Queen. Or, maybe, it was just the chemistry between them and the naked need on their faces that drew stares.
I should care. I should put a few inches between us, at least.
She didn’t… she couldn’t.
3.
They pushed their way through her front door. She threw her keys toward the table; he dropped his suitcase and kicked it aside.
“Jesus, Scully,” he rasped against her lips as he lifted her from the floor and set her down on her dining room table. “I just want to fucking drown in you.”
“Yes,” she gasped.
She undid his belt buckle with shaking fingers while he pushed her jacket off her shoulders and swiftly undid the buttons of her blouse.
His eyes moved over her breasts like a caress, and she felt her nipples pebble under his gaze. He saw it, too, and he leaned down to take one between his teeth, right through the lace of her bra.
She groaned. It was good, so good, so much, and not nearly enough. Her center ached.
“Mulder, I need…” she began, then hissed in her breath when he moved to the other breast and nipped at her. “Oh, god.”
“Me too, Scully,” he managed. “Me too. Wanna go to bed?”
“No…no, right here, just–”
He raised his head and crushed his mouth to hers in a searing kiss while he yanked down his pants and boxers and took out his cock. It was hard, huge, and her vagina clenched at the sight.
She found the zipper at her hip, tugged it down, then had to lay back across the table so that she could lift her hips while he pulled the skirt down her legs and flung it aside.
He pressed kisses to her through the silk that covered her mons before slipping the fabric down her legs and letting it fall to the floor.
“So pretty, Scully, you’re so pretty and you smell so good,” he panted. “I’ve got to get inside you. C’mere.” He pulled her back up to sitting and tugged her to the edge of the table.
“Hold onto me,” he whispered.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, quivering in anticipation as he pressed the tip of his penis against her opening. Her eyes rose to meet his.
“Scully,” he said, and then he was inside her.
It was fast, furious, intense, the culmination of eight days of wanting. He snapped his hips, and she sighed in relief. This is what she needed. Not just the physical ecstasy she felt as he filled her, but him. She needed him, body and soul, while the rest of the world faded away.
“Never let me go,” she said in a cracked whisper. “Please.”
“I won’t,” he promised as he took one hand off her hip to cup the back of her head and hold her to his mouth. “I can’t. I love you.”
Her blood roared in her ears as she came, her breath hitching while the clench of her walls undid him. He gasped tangled endearments against her lips, and she wanted to respond but she was far beyond words.
It was okay.
He knew.
4.
They lay naked in her bed as rain pattered against the window. She’d left it open a crack, and the smell of wet pavement filled the room. They were on their backs, side by side, with their fingers interlaced between them. It was full dark outside.
“I’ve never been so happy,” he murmured. “I didn’t even know that feeling like this was a possibility. You took everything I thought I knew and turned it upside down and inside out.”
Her heart swelled. “Everything?”
“Yeah… all the important things. I didn’t think I needed anybody… I didn’t even think I wanted anybody. I didn’t know that falling in love would make everything softer around the edges. The pain of the past and the uncertainty of the future – my career, my quest for the truth about my sister - feel so much easier to bear because you’re here.” He turned on his side and raised their joined hands to his lips.
She turned, too, so that she could face him in the dark. Lightening flashed, and Mulder was briefly illuminated in its silver glow. His beauty made her ache.
“Mulder, I used to believe that I was hard, rigid, cold, and I took a certain satisfaction in that. I thought it made me strong.” She exhaled slowly. “I was wrong. I wasn’t being strong, I was being afraid. Afraid of letting someone in. In nine hours you broke through my defenses and tore down the walls I’d hidden behind my whole life. You showed me that love can make me stronger.”
She scooted closer and released his hand so that she could rest her palm against his cheek. “I know that you had to do some convincing when we were sitting at that restaurant in Eureka. I was worried about the distance and the logistics of it all and the fact that we don’t know for sure if you’ll be transferred back here, not to mention that we’d only just met.”
“I understand… those are reasonable things to be scared of. It’s a lot to ask of anyone, and it seems unthinkable to ask it of someone you’ve only know for a handful of hours.” He laughed a little. “We kept saying we sounded crazy. We did. We still do.”
“We do. But I don’t care, and I’m not scared anymore. I’m with you for this. I’ll do everything I can to make this work.”
“So will I, Scully,” he whispered.
He kissed her, and she kissed him back with lips that were tender and bruised from a day filled with kisses. His hand settled low on her hip, pulling her even closer. Want flooded her.
“Too sore?” he murmured into her ear. His palm moved to slip between her legs, and she knew he could feel the evidence of her desire.
“No,” she whispered back.
He smiled.
5.
Love Me Tender played on the television. Mulder sat on her sofa while she lay with her head in his lap, humming while he absently stroked her hair.
“What’re you thinking about?” she murmured. “Feels like something serious.”
“Mm. How do you think Vance is going to react when he comes home and finds out that his little brother married his fiancé?”
“Not well. But since the little brother is played by Elvis, I suppose we can’t blame her. Although, truth be told, he’s not really my type.”
“I love him. I’ve never been to Graceland but it’s on my list of things I have to do before I die.”
“That’s a fun fact I wasn’t aware of,” she said. “But that’s not what you were thinking about. Talk to me.”
He looked down at her face and sighed. “Tomorrow,” he said. “I’m worrying about tomorrow.”
“About the profile Skinner wants you to do?”
“Yeah. I know you said I could stay here, and I want to.”
“But?” She put her hand over his.
“I don’t know what this one is about, but sometimes, if it’s bad…sometimes it takes me out of myself. I can’t eat, can hardly sleep, and when I do, I’m prone to bad dreams. Sometimes I become very withdrawn. I can’t imagine I’m very easy – or pleasant – to be around.”
She thought about it for a minute, and then said, “It seems to me that maybe that’s the most important time to be with someone who loves you. I won’t make you talk about it, not unless you want to. I’ll let you work. But I’ll also make sure you’re eating. I can be next to you while you try to sleep, and I can hold you if you have bad dreams.”
“Yeah?” he asked quietly.
“Yeah,” she said.
6.
The case was about a string of murders in the 1980s. The victims were young women. The discovery of another body, hidden since 1983, had resulted in public outcry and a demand for answers. A profile, Skinner had said, would narrow down the suspect pool considerably.
Mulder spent nine days on his task. The crimes were gruesome, and Mulder behaved exactly as he said he would – he was withdrawn, quiet, hollowed out. Sometimes she’d wake to him already at her desk, his eyes tired and his hands trembling. Sometimes he quietly came home and into her bed late at night, long after she’d been asleep.
On day three, she gave him a key to her apartment.
On day four, he asked her if she’d be willing to review some crime scene photos and autopsy reports. She did, and then she met with Mulder and the rest of the task force to discuss her findings. Mulder sat close beside her, attentive, asking hard questions and then praising her work. His hand would drift briefly to her arm or knee when he spoke.
As she left, he said “I may be late tonight, but I’ll be home as soon as I can.” She watched seven heads turn in her direction and then back to his.
A month ago, the idea of a scenario like this would have embarrassed and upset her. Now, she just briefly squeezed his hand and said “Take care of yourself. I’ll leave you a plate in the refrigerator…please try to eat something.”
She was changing.
On day six, Skinner stopped by the lab and sat down beside her.
“Is he okay?” Scully asked, unprompted and without preamble.
“He’s upset. He needs some rest. Maybe you can convince him to put it all down for a minute and get some sleep.”
She pushed away from her desk. “Of course. I’ll leave right now. He’s in his old office, I assume?”
Skinner nodded. “Yes. I appreciate this.”
She slipped her blazer on and lifted her bag. “Thank you for saying so, Sir, but it’s not a favor. I’m not doing this out of duty. I’m doing it because I love him.”
“I’m glad you do. You’re very good for him – you’re good for each other.”
“Thank you, sir,” she said.
She found him in his chair. He looked up at her with swollen eyes. “Skinner sent you?”
She nodded. “Let’s go home, Mulder.”
He began to load things into his bag, and she placed a gentle hand on his forearm.
“Leave it here. It’ll wait until the morning.”
“I should – ”
“Mulder, this case has been cold for over fifteen years. You can take a night off. It will still be here in the morning.”
He looked like he might argue, and then his shoulders slumped. He sighed. “Okay.”
She took him home and made an early dinner of grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup. He ate, he showered, and he slept.
Afternoon turned to evening. She did the dishes, folded their laundry, and thought about how it felt to take care of him. Watching him suffer was terrible, and yet her heart was so full. She loved him fiercely and completely. She stared at his socks, and then she wept because he’d be going back to Atlanta soon. The next time he profiled, she may not be there. And that was wrong.
She was careful not to disturb him when she climbed into bed. He didn’t stir, but hours later she woke to his quiet voice in her ear.
“Scully?”
“Hmmm? Are you okay?” she mumbled.
“I’m okay. I’m sorry to wake you.”
“I don’t mind. What is it?”
“I need you,” he said simply.
His hands and mouth were very soft, gentle, as if he were trying to negate the violence and carnage he’d seen. He needed love, and that was something she could so easily give him.
She pressed her lips to his face and neck, to his heart, to each of his ribs. He groaned when she took him into her mouth.
Even this, she thought as she relaxed her throat and felt his fingers thread through her hair. Something so base and so carnal… with him it feels beautiful.
When he was close, when his breath became ragged and his hips began to move against her, she pulled back and said, “Come in my mouth, if you want to. It’s okay.”
He tugged her up to his face and kissed her again. “Sometime… but not today. Can you get on top of me?”
The way he asked made her blood run hot and her center ache. She was accustomed to silence in the bedroom, needs expressed through hands that pushed and pulled and quiet sounds. With Mulder, though, she was learning that she could use her voice to be the director of her own pleasure. Harder, faster, more, I want your fingers inside me, your tongue, your cock… These words fell easily from her lips when he touched her, and he played her like a symphony.
Tonight, though, he was conducting. She rode him, hands gripping the headboard, until he asked in a pained whisper for her to get on her hands and knees, and then finally onto her back. Mulder took what he needed, because he knew that he could.
Because he knew that she wanted him to.
“I love you,” she whispered against his lips as he came inside of her. “And I’ve got you. You’re okay.”
7.
They woke early on the ninth day.
Scully lay in Mulder’s arms, naked and flushed, with tears on her face and her body trembling in the aftermath of her orgasm.
“Are you sure I can’t take you to the airport?” she asked quietly.
“I’m sure.” He squeezed her tighter against him. “I want our goodbyes to be private, and I want to know that you’re here in bed, on these disgusting sheets, and not sitting alone in the car.”
She managed a laugh. “We put them on the bed yesterday. They’re not that disgusting.”
“We did a number on them,” he said.
“I guess we did.”
“It feels like our bed now. Is that strange?”
“No. Do you want it to be?”
“What, strange?”
“No…do you want it to be our bed?”
His eyes searched hers. “I don’t know what that means.”
“Me neither, exactly. I just want…” She paused, searching for the right word, and found nothing. “I just want,” she said.
“I want, too, Scully.”
She swallowed. “You did a good job with that profile, Mulder. An amazing job. I really think they’ll ask you to come back.”
“I hope so. I want you to know what usually, after I finish a difficult profile, I find myself exhausted and emotional and just a fucking mess. I told you in the car about a time like that, I remember. But I’m okay right now. I’m okay because you’re here. You took such good care of me.” His voice cracked, and she could tell he was close to tears. “You love me so well.”
“You make it easy.”
“How long do you think we should wait?” he asked.
“Wait?”
“How long do we wait and hope that I’m reassigned back here? When do we stop waiting, and what do we do then?”
“I don’t know. I feel like, rationally, we should give it a good amount of time. They’re going to be watching you after that profile. Kersh and Skinner will be under pressure to bring you back, so you need to stay on the straight and narrow for now. And time for us, too. Time for us to grow.”
“What’s a good amount of time? I don’t love the idea of waiting years until we can be in the same city permanently.”
“And under the same roof,” she said. “In our bed.”
His smile was sweet. “I wanted to say that, but I didn’t want to scare you.”
She smiled back. “I told you. I’m not afraid anymore. How about January? New year, new plan. After that, we reassess and take a look at our options.”
“I don’t see many of them. He paused. “I could quit.”
She sat up. “Mulder, you cannot. If anything, I would. You need the FBI’s tools to help you find the truth about Samantha. And the X-Files need to be re-opened. There’s nobody to do that but you. I could be a pathologist anywhere.”
“No. Absolutely not. You’ve worked your ass of to get where you are. You’re not throwing it away. My friends, the Lone Gunmen… they have the kinds of resources I’d need. I’m sure I could work with them, and I could find something – ”
She put her fingers to his lips. “January. If they haven’t said anything about reassigning you by by then… well, we’ll come up something.”
“Deal,” he said, and he kissed her to seal their pact before adding, “Less than a year. Seven months. I’m completely on board, although I have to admit I didn’t think that’s where you were going when you said a good amount of time.”
“Yes, but I said rationally. I don’t feel rational.”
“God, I’m so glad,” he told her.
8.
Seven months, in the grand scheme of things, is nothing. When it comes to love, though, when it’s what’s standing between you and your lover… it feels like everything.
She traveled to Atlanta at the end of June and agreed that she, too, hated it.
“No offense to the good citizens of Georgia,” she said. “But it’s hot as hell. And we’re an eleven-hour drive from the Chesapeake Bay. That’s too far.”
“It doesn’t help that my apartment is so shitty. I had to go pre-furnished, though… moving my things to Atlanta would’ve felt like giving in.”
“It’s not so bad,” she said, reaching over her head to run her fingers over the scrolls of the white iron headboard. “This bed is pretty. It’s comfortable.”
“Pre-furnished. I’ve been here for years, but still - imagine how many people may have slept on this mattress.”
She sighed. “Don’t ruin it for me, Mulder.”
***
On July 4th, Mulder joined her at her mother’s house for a long holiday weekend with her family.
“Fox, I’m so very glad to meet you. I feel like we already know each other,” Maggie said. She took his hand in both of hers.
“I’m happy to finally meet you, too, Mrs. Scully,” he said. “Scu – Dana talks about you so much.”
“It’s Maggie, please, I -”
“Finally? You and Dana have know each other for, what? Five minutes?” Bill’s tone was joking, but the comment felt cold anyway.
“Ah. You must be Bill,” Mulder said easily. He reached out his hand.
Bill shook it. “And you’re Fox Mulder, the man who’s been sleeping with my sister.”
“Bill!” Maggie gasped.
“Wow,” Scully said mildly. “I expected a scene at some point, but that was quick. We’ve been in the door for less than a minute.”
“Ignore him,” Missy said with a roll of her eyes. “Berating his sisters’ suitors is Bill’s favorite thing. Ever since Dad died, he seems to think it’s his job to make sure our purity remains intact.” She held out her hand for Mulder to take.
“Fat chance of that,” Charlie laughed. “Hey. I’m Charlie. I’m the nice brother.”
“I’ve gathered that,” Mulder said, and he shook his hand, too.
“Welcome to the circus. This is what happens whenever all the Scully children are gathered under one roof. Poor Mom.”
“I’m perfectly fine, Charles. Please take Fox and Dana’s things upstairs and put them in her room while they wash up for dinner.”
“Sure thing, Ma.” He hefted a bag in each hand and started up the stairs, mouthing “Charles” over his shoulder.
Mulder laughed.
“I’d say something about them being in her room together, but I suppose no one will listen,” Bill grumbled.
“I suppose not,” Maggie told him.
***
“Oh fuck, oh yes, please, please, please, please…” she whispered frantically.
“Shhh, shhh.” Mulder captured her mouth in a fierce kiss and then rasped into her ear, “Scully, baby, you have to be quiet.”
“Ungh,” she gasped.
“Keep it up and I’ll never be allowed back in this house. We’ll have to elope.” He gripped the back of her thigh and thrust hard, his hips slamming against hers.
“Are we getting married, Mulder?” she managed hoarsely.
“God, I hope so. Scully, I’m gonna come.” He forced a hand between them and pressed his thumb to her clit.
“Me, too… Mulderrrrrr…!” She quaked beneath him, and he had to bury his face in her neck to muffle his groans as he emptied inside of her.
There was one loud thump from the other side of the wall that she shared with Bill’s bedroom.
“Oh god,” Mulder panted. “I’m dead. What do you want? Vegas? We might need to flee the country. Mexico? Tahiti?”
***
Autumn came, and then it went.
Mulder left more behind on every visit, until he had one dresser drawer, then two. The nightstand on his side of the bed held dog-eared novels and a spiral bound notebook that he sometimes journaled in. He had running shoes in the closet and his shampoo in the shower. She sometimes lay in the bathtub and washed her hair with it so that the smell would follow her into bed and surround her in her sleep. It was soothing, but then she’d wake in the night and for a split second she would think he was there beside her.
Sometimes she would cry.
9.
“Bad news,” he said. His voice had that staticky quality that long distance calls always created, but she could still hear the disappointment in it. “They have me on a new case, a profile. I don’t think it’ll be too bad, emotionally I mean, but sweetheart – I don’t think I’ll make it for Christmas. It’s only five days away, and that won’t be enough time.”
“Oh,” she said, so faintly she could hardly hear herself. She cleared her throat. “Oh.”
“I’m sorry, Scully. I’m so disappointed.”
She was, too. Crushed, actually. It was to be their first Christmas together, and she’d been imagining mistletoe and a crackling fire, Bing Crosby singing I’ll be Home for Christmas while she lay in Mulder’s arms. She’d been so excited for him to experience a Scully family Christmas… her mother had even knit him a stocking.
She blinked back tears. “Me, too, but it’s not your fault. It’s the nature of our jobs… you just never know. We can celebrate in January.”
“I’ll make it up to you.”
“You have nothing to make up for.”
“I can hear you crying, Scully.”
“I’ll be okay…I promise. But know that I’m aching to see you”. Then she smiled. “I have a really good present for you.”
“Yeah? I’ve got a pretty good one for you, too.”
“I can’t wait,” she said.
***
She managed to smile her way through all of her family’s Christmas Eve traditions – the candlelight church service, the cookie making, the gift wrapping – and now she sat before the television for the the annual viewing of Miracle on 34th Street with hot cocoa and gingerbread. Their stockings were hung – Mulder’s too. Her mother would fill it with candy and trinkets, she knew, and she would give it to him in January.
The snow fell heavily outside, and the quiet Annapolis Street was postcard perfect. On screen, Susie wrote her letter to Kris Kringle. Doris added, I believe in you too.
Scully wiped her tears on the sleeve of her robe. The scene was so moving and her family surrounded her. She was fortunate, she knew, and she was grateful. But that didn’t stop the ache in her chest that came from missing him. From knowing he was alone this Christmas Eve. What was he doing right now? Working, almost certainly.
At least it would be a distraction.
The doorbell rang.
Maggie glanced at her watch and then towards the window.
“It’s nearly ten,” she said. “Who would be out this late and in this weather?”
Charlie smirked. “Maybe Missy invited over one of her many boyfriends.”
“Pfft. None deserve to set foot in this house at Christmas time,” Missy returned. “Maybe it’s one of your boyfriends.”
The bell rang again.
“Whoever it is has some nerve, showing up this late.” Bill grumbled.
“Why don’t you get off your lazy ass and go tell them so,” Charlie said, even as he rose and walked toward the hall.
There was the sound of the door opening and murmured conversation. Two sets of footsteps came toward the living room, and then Charlie appeared.
“Looks like Dana was a good girl this year,” he said, and then he stepped aside.
Mulder stood there with snowflakes melting into his hair and exhaustion written all over his face. When he looked around the room, though, his eyes shone.
“Merry Christmas, everybody,” he said with a tired smile. And then he met her gaze. “Merry Christmas, Scully.”
She stood and walked into his open arms.
“Mulder! How?”
“I finished the profile this morning. There were no flights, so I drove.” He held her tightly, one hand on her back and the other cradling her head where it rested against his chest. He kissed her hair.
“Fox, you drove? You must be half asleep!” Maggie strode over to him and gave his arm a squeeze. He leaned over to kiss her cheek without releasing Scully.
“I am… it’s been a long day. But I’m so glad to be here.”
“We’re so glad to have you. Let me fix you something to eat…we had pot roast and there’s plenty of leftovers.”
“Thank you, Maggie. That would be wonderful.” He paused, and then Scully felt his sharp inhale of surprise against her cheek. She lifted her head and saw him staring at the fireplace. “I have a stocking.”
“Of course you do! Come on now… let’s get you fed and put to bed,” Maggie told him.
“You better listen,” Charlie said. “That’s the voice Mom uses when she’s not giving you a choice.”
“Well then,” Mulder said with a little laugh. He released Scully, and she looked up to see that his eyes had misted over with tears.
“I have a stocking,” he whispered to her as he took her hand so that they could follow Maggie into the kitchen.
“Of course you do,” she whispered back.
***
Mulder stripped to his boxers and then lowered himself into her bed with a sigh.
“Oh, thank god. I’ve never, ever been so tired.”
“I can’t imagine. You shouldn’t have driven like that, Mulder, it’s dangerous.”
“Hmmmm,” he murmured, blinking heavily.
“I mean it...although I’m so grateful you did. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, honey. Come to bed. I want you to know, though, that for the first time in our relationship I think I’m too tired for sex. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be crazy…why on earth would you be sorry? Let’s go to sleep. I just want you to hold me.”
“That would make me a very happy man.”
She flipped off the lamp and fumbled in the dark with her robe. He lifted the covers, and she slid underneath so that her back rested against his chest.
“Fuck, Scully, you’re naked?” he groaned.
“Yes, but I’m not trying to seduce you. I just want to feel you.”
“You don’t have to try.” He kissed the side of her neck and nipped at the skin there. “You just do.”
“Mulder, go to sleep.”
“I will,” he whispered as he pushed his boxers down his hips. “After.”
“You’re going to be -” she began, and then she felt his fingers on her, testing. She was already wet, wet just at the idea of being naked beside him. He pushed into her from behind. Her hand flew to her mouth, and she bit her knuckles, hard, so that she could stay quiet while he loved her.
***
He shook her shoulder gently.
“Wake up, Scully.”
The room was dim, the sun just beginning to rise. “Hmmm? What time is it?”
“Early.”
She realized that he was already dressed in a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. “What’re you doing, Mulder?”
He grinned. “It’s Christmas morning. I want to go downstairs so you can open your present under the tree before anyone else is awake.”
“Oh, boy.” She smiled back, then sat up and stretched. “Is it something no one else should see? Is it dirty lingerie? A sex toy? Handcuffs that aren’t government issued?”
“No, you pervert, but I just got really turned on.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Will you come downstairs with me?”
“Absolutely,” she said, smile widening.
She made a quick stop to use the bathroom, brush her teeth and splash water on her face, and then they scampered together down the stairs like children. Mulder flipped the little switch that turned the tree’s lights back on, and Scully turned the stereo on low for the all-day Christmas music that would play.
“Okay, okay… sit on the couch and close your eyes,” he said.
“Wait, why do you get to go first?”
“Oh – I just assumed that you hadn’t brought anything here for me since you didn’t think I was coming.”
“Wrong,” she said happily. “It’s been here for months.” She fished out a package wrapped in green paper with little green trees stamped in gold. It was flat, square, and so clearly a record that he started to laugh.
“Is it a pony?” he asked.
“Shhh. You’ll see.”
“I will.” He reached under the tree and brought out a little silver box. “This one is yours.”
She furrowed her brow. “When did it get under there?”
“I gave it to Charlie when I came in last night.”
“Very sneaky, Agent Mulder.”
“I couldn’t have you skulking downstairs during the night to shake it.”
“Ooh, would it break? Is it breakable?”
“You’ll see.” He smiled. “Can I go first?”
“Have at it,” she said, and she passed his gift over to him.
He slid his finger under the tape, then paused. “Does this pony come with a barn? They’re not allowed in my apartment.”
“Ha. Open it, already.”
The record was one of Elvis Presley’s Spinout. It still bore the plastic wrap, although it was clearly old.
“Man, Scully. Is this a first pressing?”
“It is. 1967. Look, it even has the hype sticker.” She pointed to the blue sticker on the front of the album.
Special Bonus!
For a limited time only
Full color photo of
ELVIS
Inside this album!
“Amazing. Where did you find this?”
“An antique shop in Georgetown.”
“I love it. It’s perfect,” he said, and he meant it. He looked so happy, and she had to blink back tears. It had been a long time since he’d had a family holiday, let alone received a gift. A very long time.
He flipped it over in his hands, and he saw a plain red envelope taped to the back.
“What’s this?”
“There’s only one way to find out.”
She watched him carefully tear open the flap and extract a note. He unfolded it, and two plane tickets fluttered to the table. He scooped them up.
“Memphis?”
“Pack your blue suede shoes, Mulder. I have the flight, a very nice hotel room, and two tickets to Graceland. And travel insurance,” she added hurriedly. “In case we have to reschedule, because you know – work.”
“Scully, this is… god, this is incredible.”
“You deserve it. We deserve it. A real vacation together. And, well… it’s on your list.”
He looked up from the tickets with shining eyes. “Graceland. Me and you, champagne from room service, going out on the town for barbecue. And so much sex.”
“So much,” she agreed.
He set the tickets aside and took her hand.
“I love it… I love you,” he said quietly. “I can’t wait to go away with you.”
“Me, too.”
“Wanna open yours?” he whispered in her ear.
She nodded, and so he leaned back and pressed the box into her hands. She lifted the lid and saw a bureau envelope sitting on a bed of crumpled tissue paper. The FBI logo was in the upper left corner. Mulder’s address in Atlanta was in the center.
“Mulder, wha-” she began, then froze. “Oh my god. No. It isn’t.”
“It is,” he said quietly. “Go ahead and read it.”
She opened the envelope with trembling fingers and unfolded the letter inside.
December 18, 1998
To: Fox W. Mulder
Re: Notice of Reassignment
Location: Washington D.C.
Unit: The X-Files
Date Effective: January 15, 1999
A handwritten note on a post it read:
Congratulations, Agent Mulder. I hope that this news makes it a very happy holiday for yourself and for Agent Scully.
See you in January.
-Walter Skinner
She burst into tears.
“Oh, thank god. Thank god.” It was all she could think of to say.
“I know, Scully. I know.” He reached over and wrapped his arms around her. “We did it.”
“You did it,” she wept. “You worked so hard.”
He leaned back so that he could cup her face in his hands. “We did it. I wouldn’t be here right now without you. And although I may have ended up reassigned eventually, I’d still have been so lost. So lonely. I’d never have gotten off that lonely road. You’ve changed everything. I can no longer imagine my world without you at the center of it. So, with that said…” he reached over and picked up the box, and he handed it back to her. “It’s not empty.”
“It’s not?” she asked as she wiped the tears from her face. “That’s going to be a tough act to follow.”
“Take a look.”
She fumbled through the tissue paper and her hand closed around another box. A small one. She could feel the velvet under her fingertips. She lifted it out and set it carefully on the table while her heart banged away inside her chest. Her eyes welled with fresh tears.
Mulder dropped to one knee.
“The on-bended-knee business is pretty cheesy, and I honestly never imagined myself doing it. But I also never imagined myself getting married, and here we are. It’s not the institution of marriage that I had a problem with, you see. It was the notion that I would choose love over my search for the truth. It seemed preposterous that I would find someone that I trusted enough, and loved enough, to let the rest go. And then I met you, and I realized that I didn’t have to give it up. That you were someone who would love me, broken as I am, and who would hold my hand and search with me. And that’s not the only reason I want to marry you, not by a million miles.”
He was picking up steam, now, talking fast and gripping her hands earnestly. He was crying, fat tears rolling down his cheeks as he spoke.
“I love that you picked me up on the side of that highway, just a guy standing in the rain with no umbrella and no coat, and your expression when I got in your car said I don’t suffer fools, so stop breaking my shit and shaking water off everywhere, then you suddenly had this puzzled look on your face like you might actually know me, and it was so strange because I had the strongest sense that I knew you, too. And we hadn’t ever met, but somehow I did know you. I knew you right away. I felt you. There was something in your smile and in your eyes that was both familiar and so fucking sexy, and it just did me in, then and there, immediately. And then we talked, and we were so vulnerable with each other, and we weren’t ashamed. We made love in that hotel room, and I swear to god, Scully, it was one of the most moving, most profound experiences of my life. I looked down at you and I thought I would do it. I would give her a baby, if I could. I think I would give her anything.. It was crazy, but somehow it also wasn’t. Then I found your badge, and Scully, it was truly like lightning. It was like the pieces clicked together and I realized that I was in love. You took that leap with me even though you were scared, and I loved you even more for it.”
She wept silently, letting the tears slide down her face unchecked because she was never, ever going to let go of his hands.
“Since then, I’ve fallen in love with you more every day. With your beautiful smile, your amazing laugh, your perfect face. I want to kiss the little mole above your lip every single day. I want to use my mouth to map the freckles on your chest and chart them like constellations. I love your brilliance. You’re the smartest person I’ve ever met, and when you’re working you purse your lips and you get that little vee between your eyebrows and it’s so hot – don’t hate me for saying that, I know you’re very serious when you do it. But it is, your mind is so fucking hot. You hardly ever agree with my theories when I’m talking about old X-Files, but you never treat me like a lunatic and you’re always willing to hear me out. I love the way you smell when you get out of a bath with all that lavender in it, I love the way you look in your silk pajamas with your face washed clean, even though those pajamas never stay on once we get into the bed. And I love the way I feel when I’m with you. The way it feels to hold your hand, to kiss you, to be inside you…it’s my favorite place in the whole world. I want to pack my bags and move in there.”
He finally let go of her hands so he could pick up the box and lift the lid. The ring was gold, the diamond round and sparkling.
“I had the ring made for you, but the diamond was my grandmother’s. She gave it to me while she was dying, and I remember she patted my cheek and said,”This is for you, Fox, for when you find love.” I did, I found it. I found you. And there’s nothing that would make me happier than to wake up with you every day for the rest of my life, starting immediately. Well – starting January 15th. I’ll always love you and always put you first. I promise. And so… will you? Will you marry me?”
She wanted to answer, but her throat was clogged with tears and her breath was coming in little gasps. She swallowed.
“You’d better say yes after all that. I know I would.” Charlie.
She looked up to see her family hovering in the doorway. Charlie and Melissa glowed, her mother was crying, and Bill was almost smiling.
“How long have you guys been standing there?” she asked in a watery voice.
“Long enough,” Missy said.
Mulder smiled in their direction, not at all phased that they were there, and then looked back to Scully.
“It looks like we’re all waiting for your answer, sweetheart.”
“It’s a yes. Of course it’s a yes,” she said, and she slipped off the sofa and into his waiting arms.
***
Epilogue
Snow was falling again. She was mostly over it… it was nearly March, the holidays long since passed, and spring was somewhere on the horizon.
Tonight, though, it was lovely. It swirled in the night air and glittered in the glow of the streetlights. She gazed at it through her window while she rested her cheek against the cool pillow.
Quiet feet padded across the carpet. She listened to the familiar sounds of Mulder undressing – the slide of his belt and then his zipper, the whisper of his t-shirt being pulled over his head. The snick of the hamper closing. He slid in behind her and kissed her shoulder.
“You awake?” he whispered.
“I’m awake…just watching the snow.”
“It’s beautiful.” He watched with her for a minute, then asked, “Are you feeling okay? You’ve been so tired this week. It’s only 8:30… that’s early, even for you.”
“I’m okay,” she said. “Mulder, do you remember our first time, in Eureka, when -”
“Vividly.”
She laughed softly. “Me too. But I was going to ask about right before. We were kissing, and we were talking about condoms, and we decided we were fine without. We already trusted each other. And I said that, besides…” her voice trailed off.
“You were thinking about how you wouldn’t conceive,” he said gently.
Now she turned to face him, and she saw him notice the shine of tears in her eyes, even in the dim light.
“Oh, sweetheart… is that what’s been on your mind?”
“I just… I’ve never even asked if that’s something you wanted. Not really.”
He reached over to wipe her cheek with his thumb. “And now you’re asking?”
“I am.”
“Scully… I want to be with you. I want to marry you. I can’t lie… I would love to have children with you. But don’t think for a second that I’m disappointed in you. There are many ways to have a child, if we want one. And if we can’t or decide not to – if it’s always just the two of us – that will be okay. More than okay. I love you. As long as I have you, then I’m happy.”
She closed her eyes and inhaled shakily. “But if I could get pregnant.”
“If you could? Let’s see. I don’t know if this is going to make you feel better or worse, but I can’t lie to you. I’d be trying to knock you up at every opportunity.”
She chuffed out a little laugh, and he laughed with her.
“You would, huh?”
“I’m pushing 40. I’d like to still be able to hold the kid without worrying about my arthritic hands.” He laughed again. “But it’s more than that, it’s this sense of – I don’t know. I’d love to see a little Scully-Mulder with red hair and hazel eyes. I’d love that child. And loving you as the mother of our child would be one more way in a long, long list of ways that I love you. Is this helping or hurting?”
“Helping,” she said through her tears.
“I meant what I said in that bed in Eureka, Scully. I’d give that to you if I could. I’d give you a baby.”
“Good.” She took a steadying breath. “Because you did.”
“What did I do?” he asked.
“Mulder…I’m pregnant.”