Work Text:
Logically, Mulder knew Scully had a right to visit her mother for a weekend. She was her own person with her own things to do and he didn’t need to be in her presence all the time, regardless of the fact that they were now dating. Going away for a weekend to visit family was perfectly reasonable.
Despite the fact that he had repeated this to himself for several hours that morning, he was still missing her immensely. He used to live in this apartment all by himself for years; why did it seem so empty now?
He sighed and shuffled away from the stove with a skillet full of eggs. He spooned them onto his plate. He had almost gotten out two plates earlier out of habit. When had that become a habit? They had only been dating for a couple of months.
When it comes to Dana Scully, Mulder mused as he shoveled some eggs in his mouth, I suppose habits are easy to form.
He felt his chest tighten and he looked over at his cell phone. No texts or calls. That was reasonable. She was with her mother. She was focusing on family time.
His fingers itched to reach over and pick up the phone and hit speed-dial. Instead, he chucked his phone into the living room, where it hit the couch and bounced under a throw pillow. Perfect, now he couldn’t see it.
The phone’s presence lingered at the back of his mind like a specter as he cleaned his dishes and put them away.
As soon as he was done, he stood blankly in the entryway from the dining room to the living room and sighed.
Usually, he and Scully would head out on a walk to the farmer’s market, or to the park. Sometimes they would open his windows to let in fresh air and read. Sometimes Scully would read interesting new medical discoveries out loud to him from journals and he would bask in the easy way she said those big, Latin words. Sometimes he would read to her from some Michael Crichton book or another. Sometimes they would take turns reading articles from The Lone Gunmen aloud in the voices of their friends, making each other guess who had written which articles.
Sometimes, Scully would sit next to him, hip-to-hip, and he would trace little swirls on the inside of her knee until she would kiss him and drag him back to his room.
Their room.
Mulder never told Scully – this officially-dating thing was still quite new, after all – but he had stopped considering this to be his apartment the very night she had first slept over as his girlfriend. It had been a couple weeks after their New Year’s kiss. They hadn’t taken things any further, but she had folded herself up in his arms so neatly and comfortably that Mulder had decided right then and there that he never wanted to go to sleep any other way again.
He groaned. He would have to sleep alone tonight. She was staying with Maggie until Sunday.
Which is perfectly fine. He took a bracing breath and stood, moving to his house phone and dialing a number.
“Mulder?” The gruff voice on the other end made him smile. “It’s Saturday.”
“Good morning to you too, Frohike.” Mulder grinned even more. “I know it’s the weekend; I promise this isn’t a professional call.”
“Oh.” In the background, Mulder heard two more clicks – Langley and Byers had picked up and were listening in (which was, in Mulder’s opinion, rather endearing). “What’s this about, then?”
“I was, uh, wondering if you guys wanted to do something tonight. Scully’s visiting her mom for the weekend and I was thinking we could go bowling or maybe do a quick DnD campaign.”
“Oh, shoot, Mulder,” Byers chimed in. “We would love to, but we’re taking Langley to go see his favorite Van Halen cover band.”
“More like ‘Langley’s dragging us to see his favorite Van Halen cover band.’” Frohike grumbled.
“Hey!” Langley said, loud enough that Mulder pulled the phone away from his ear with a wince. “You bought the tickets!”
“A decision I regret.”
Byers spoke up over the squabbling. “I’m sorry, Mulder. Maybe we could find you a ticket? We would have asked when we were getting them earlier, but you’ve been hanging out with Scully more lately and so we figured–”
“No– no, it’s alright.” Mulder kept his voice light. “You guys have fun, I’m just gonna stay in with pizza and some movies.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, Byers, I’m sure, but thanks.” He smiled, appreciating the care.
Byers wished him a good day and the call ended, Langley and Frohike’s bickering voices dropping off suddenly into silence.
Mulder sighed. His apartment was too quiet.
He flipped on the TV but, after 5 channels of nonsense, he turned it back off and stood. He needed to get out of here.
He dressed as quickly as he could and started walking.
There was a park down the street where he usually ran. He didn’t feel like running today; he just walked, looking at the pigeons and the trees and the other walkers with dogs and strollers.
He wished he had a dog.
Or a stroller . The thought popped into his head, unbidden. He shoved it away. Today was not the day to think about that.
He thought, instead, of the time Scully had gone to Maine for the weekend. They had called and talked frequently. He had jokingly proposed marriage.
Actually, he had only been half kidding, but Scully didn’t need to know that.
The air was cool enough that he was grateful for his thick sweater. He couldn’t quite see his breath, but he knew that he might be able to in the next two weeks. He breathed hot, invisible breath into his hands to warm his fingertips, wishing he had gloves.
Or a hand to hold.
His hands moved from his mouth to his entire face as he stopped walking and let out a quiet growl of frustration. Jeeze, Mulder. Get it together, man.
Though he had left his wallet (and cursed cell phone) in his apartment, he headed towards the farmer’s market. Some of the stalls had free samples. He had purchased regularly enough from most of them that he wouldn’t feel bad accepting a few offered tastes of fresh fruit and honey.
He arrived at the alley the market usually resided in. It was empty.
His brow furrowed as his gaze landed on a placard sitting in the alley. It read: Farmers Market closed due to conflicting flea market on–
Mulder didn’t bother to read the rest of the sign. He went home.
He wished, again, that he had a dog. Maybe he could talk Scully into getting another pomeranian. He hadn’t been a huge fan of Queequeg, but maybe if they got a pomeranian as a puppy they could raise it to be a little less yappy and a little more friendly.
His hand drifted instinctively toward the pocket in which he usually kept his cell phone. It was empty, which was good because Scully didn’t need him budging in on family time.
The elevator at his apartment had, apparently, broken since he left home. He took the stairs.
Despite the climb, he felt sort of invigorated when he arrived back at apartment 42. He still didn’t feel like running, but maybe another form of exercise would be good?
He grabbed his basketball and started toward the door, but stopped. Slowly, he turned back towards the couch and grabbed his cell. He had no missed calls or messages, but he tucked his phone in his pocket anyway. Going out earlier without his phone had been dumb; what if there had been an emergency?
The basketball court was back at the park. Despite the fact that it was Saturday, the court was empty. Mulder threw his coat in a pile and started taking shots, feeling a bit of satisfaction with every swish of the net.
He liked basketball, but his favorite sport was baseball. It always had been. He liked the pace of the game better, which was sort of ironic, considering how quickly he liked to move through life. Maybe baseball was just a safe place to slow down, where life didn’t feel as urgent, even as he swung a bat and ran the bases.
Maybe that’s why he had taken Scully batting instead of to a basketball court or to a football field. Aside from the fact that he had already had baseball on the brain, he liked the idea of slowing down with Scully; of living in a safe, slow moment.
He missed a basket and decided it was time to go home.
The clock on his stove read 2:00 PM. This was a long day. Unbearably long. Usually he liked long Saturdays but this was just tor-
His phone rang.
He scrambled to pull it out of his pocket and felt his heart lift as he saw Scully’s name drifting across the caller ID.
“Hey, Scully.” He tried to say casually, even though he was pretty sure his voice squeaked.
“Hey, Mulder.” She replied. Gosh, her voice was so nice. “I was just, um, calling to check in.”
“Oh.” Mulder smiled. “What, you leave for half a day and assume I’ve gotten myself in a mess or something?”
She chuckled. “That’s a running theme for us, yes.” He chuckled back, knowing he couldn’t deny it, and she went on. “So I take it you’re okay?”
He bit his lip. “Yeah, no messes so far.”
They were both quiet for a moment.
“I miss you,” he blurted out before he could stop the words from tumbling out.
Idiot. Lovesick idiot.
“I miss you too.” Her voice was more sincere than he expected. “Hey, um, my mom is making some kind of pasta for dinner and wondered if you wanted to come join us.”
Mulder felt his heart lift, as though he was suddenly pumping helium through his veins instead of blood. “I, uh, I wouldn’t want to impose.”
“No imposition at all. She’s practically begging you to come.” Scully was quiet for a moment. “And, uh, I would really like it if you came, too.”
His smile couldn’t have been wider. “I’ll be there. What time?”
“Well, if you come now, Mom says you can help make the sauce and-”
He was out the door, coat in hand, before she finished the sentence.