Mulder and Scully were in the office, finishing up paperwork from their last case. They were working diligently and quietly, as per usual. They were model FBI agents and both had been Employee of the Month twice.
"Scully, we should go on a double date sometime," Mulder suggested out of the blue.
"A double date?"
"Yeah, now that we both are dating people, it might be fun."
"Fun?" Scully questioned. She wasn't sure it would be fun, but it would definitely be unprofessional. She might have to consult the employee handbook first.
"Come on, Scully, I know it's unlike us to socialize outside of work and we have set really good boundaries in our partnership, but maybe we should cut loose sometime."
Scully considered it and then agreed. "Fine. Where do you want to go?"
"There's this new restaurant that opened up - I'll get you the address. Does Friday at 7 work?"
"Sure, Mulder, we'll be there."
-------
A few days later, Scully entered the restaurant and made her way to the table where Mulder and Phoebe were already seated. After Phoebe's exceptional assistance on the arsonist case a year back, she and Mulder had rekindled their long lost university romance and had been inseparable ever since. Mulder made it a point to leave the office every day at 5 pm, and he never worked on the weekends. He was a doting boyfriend, but also never let his personal life affect their work.
"Hey, Scully, where's Carl?" Mulder asked once she approached the table.
"Oh, he's finishing up a cigarette outside. He may be a smoker but he thinks it's rude to smoke indoors."
"That's so considerate of him," Phoebe chimed in.
"He's really great," Scully beamed. "He was happy to take a break from his novel tonight."
"Once he's published, you'll have to get us some signed copies of the book," Mulder requested.
Scully wondered if this request was overstepping their professional boundaries. She spent a lot of time at Human Resources going over the employee handbook, so she had a pretty good idea of what was allowed between FBI partners. But she might email her representative on Monday, just to be sure. As long as the books were under $25, she was probably in the clear.
Carl finally arrived and took his seat at their table. He was an older gentleman, but distinguished in looks and character. As a rule Scully only dated men at least 25 years older than her. She liked that they could get the senior discount when they went to the movies. Unfortunately, the FBI didn't pay very well. Another complaint to her HR rep, she noted in her head.
The conversation between the four was pleasant. They didn't talk about work because it would be unprofessional to discuss cases outside of the office but instead chatted about the weather, politics, movies and tv shows they had seen. Scully found it absolutely riveting. She was often bored at work and needed to be challenged more. But debating whether spring would come early or late this year was right up her alley.
She was surprised that her, Mulder, Phoebe, and Carl got along so well. When Carl left for another smoke break, Phoebe turned to Scully with a mischievous look in her eye and wagged her finger between the two work partners.
"Fox always denies it, but I know you'll be truthful, Dana. Anything ever go on between you two?"
Scully's jaw dropped open. She was flabbergasted at such an accusation of misconduct.
"Absolutely not, Phoebe. That would be unprofessional and we are very by the book," Scully insisted.
"See, Phoebe, I wasn't lying," Mulder added. "The only emotion I feel towards Scully is positive collegial regard."
"Okay, just checking," Phoebe winked. "I pride myself on my work conduct as well. For instance, I would never sleep with a married man who was involved in one of my cases."
"Of course you wouldn't, Phoebe!" Scully exclaimed. She knew the woman had strong morals and was a little shocked that Phoebe was discussing such unsavory topics at dinner. But, it was Friday night, so Scully would allow it.
When the check came, the four decided to split it evenly - they were very egalitarian like that. And Carl got an AARP discount, which took 10% off the bill.
All in all, it was an enjoyable evening and Scully was proud of herself for bending the rules for once. She would still need to go to confession though.
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Written for @randomfoggytiger for the Poang Presents gift exchange. I'm so sorry this fic is late! But thank you for patience. Happy Liminal Space Between Christmas and New Years!
Mulder eased on the brake to avoid skidding, and then hurriedly threw the Sno-Cat into park. He was happy to report that the vehicle functioned similarly to a car with an advanced navigation system, which is how he and Scully successfully made it back to civilization once the storm abated. Civilization being the American scientific research base, which was Mulder’s first stop when he arrived in Antarctica. Luckily for him, Skinner’s buddy from the Marines worked at McMurdo Station and was able to pull some strings to get Mulder the access and resources he needed to rescue Scully. Now he was hoping he could cash in on another favor to get her medical attention.
During the drive back to McMurdo, Scully lay slumped over on the floor, sleeping or unconscious, he wasn’t sure. Mulder checked her vitals every few minutes, paranoid that her heart would stop before they returned to the base. Her heart and respiration rates were low, and her skin felt very cold to the touch, but she was still alive. Just hang on, Scully, he thought desperately.
As soon as the Sno-Cat was completely stopped, Mulder banged open the door and almost fell out in his haste to get help. Someone must have the seen Sno-Cat approaching, which would have been very visible against the desolate Antarctic landscape, because suddenly there were two men with a stretcher rushing over to the Sno-Cat door.
Mulder helped the medics load Scully onto the stretcher, ensuring that they didn’t jostle her too much, and accompanied them into the building, which seemed to house what must be a micro-hospital at McMurdo. The temperature difference from outside to inside was drastic, and Mulder felt his limbs begin to thaw with a tingling sensation.
A doctor in a white coat rushed over as the medics transferred Scully into a hospital bed and started hurrying her down the hall. Her name tag said Dr. Atkinson.
Mulder explained the situation as best he could, but the doctor seemed confused about his ramblings of a virus and a vaccine, anaphylaxis and hypothermia. Once he was certain that the base’s medical team would be able to treat Scully, he allowed himself to be led to a smaller room that clearly functioned as a walk-in clinic. In all the excitement, Mulder’s bullet wound started bleeding again and Dr. Atkinson insisted that he be examined.
A nurse came to check his vitals, to clean and re-bandage the graze on his forehead, and bring him a change of clothes, for which he was very thankful. After giving Scully his outer layers, his own clothes were quickly dampened by the snow and he felt so much better in dry attire, even if they were from the base’s lost and found and smelled slightly musty.
As soon as Mulder was “discharged,” he left the clinic to find Scully. She was a couple doors down in a traditional hospital room. Her eyes were closed, and she had thick bedclothes wrapped around her. She also had an oxygen mask over her face and various leads attached to her body. It reminded Mulder so much of Scully dying from cancer that he had to close his eyes and breathe slowly through his nose to wash the image away.
“Ah, Mr. Mulder, you found her,” Dr. Atkinson said from the doorway. She continued, “Ms. Scully’s body temperature was about 88 degrees, just meeting the criteria for hypothermia. She’s in dry clothes now, with heated blankets. She’s getting a warm saline drip, also for dehydration. The oxygen she is receiving is humidified to warm her airways, which can help with increasing body temperature. We ran some tests, and despite being dehydrated and hypothermic, we couldn’t find any trace of toxins, drugs, or a virus in her system.”
Mulder should have been surprised, but he wasn’t. Every time they were so close to the truth and obtaining real evidence of a government conspiracy, it slipped through their fingers like smoke. At least this time, it meant that Scully was going to recover, hopefully without any long-term effects from the virus she was exposed to.
Mulder thanked the physician and settled in to watch over Scully as she slept. He wanted to hold her hand, but she was tucked in tight under a few blankets. The nurse came in a few times to check her vitals, and it looked like her body temperature was rising. The third time the nurse reported good news allowed Mulder to actually relax.
He watched her breathe, eyes scanning the red freezer burn marks on her cheeks, when Scully stirred. Mulder pulled his chair closer but didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to overwhelm her, but he also didn’t want her to think that she was waking up alone.
Her eyes blinked open a few times. She tried to talk but then realized she was wearing an oxygen mask, and her arms were stuck under the blanket. Mulder leaned over to lift it over her head so that she could speak.
The first thing she said was “Mulder” and that made him smile. Mulder loved hearing her say his name, even those times that she was exasperated or annoyed. He didn’t like that her voice was raspy and weak, but the fact that she was alive was miracle enough.
“Scully,” he responded, tenderly pushing her hair out of her face.
“What happened?” she asked.
“You don’t remember?”
“Not really. I remember a sharp pain… in my neck,” she paused, trying hard to recollect the events from a few days ago. “Bright lights? I remember being really cold, but my throat was on fire.” Scully coughed a little, her body recalling the alien pod tube.
“Do you know where we are?”
She shook her head.
“Antarctica.”
Scully’s mouth opened in shock. “Mulder, what happened? How did we end up here?”
“Shhh,” he quieted her. “I’ll tell you all about it later. Right now, you just need to rest and get better.”
Mulder continued to smooth the hair back from her face, which helped to calm her. Scully rolled over on her side, eyes closing. He could only imagine how exhausted she must be – her body working hard to fight off both the virus and the cold.
Mulder thought she was asleep, but then he heard her whisper, “You came all the way to Antarctica for me? Why would you do that?”
Mulder kept his voice low too. “Scully, do you remember what I said to you in the hallway? ‘I can’t do this without you’,” he reiterated. “I can’t live without you, Scully. That’s why I came to get you.”
There was a long enough pause that he thought she was truly asleep this time, until -
“Well, we should get married then,” she murmured.
“Married?” Mulder asked, surprised.
“Isn’t that what people do who can’t live without each other?” Scully asked, eyes still closed, breath starting to even out.
“Scully?” he prompted. But she didn’t respond – she was sound asleep.
Mulder gently pressed a kiss to her head and sat back in the chair, contemplating her proposal.
-----
The next morning, Mulder saw Scully as soon as visiting hours began. She was sitting up in bed, blanket around her waist, wrapped in a robe. She had the bedside table pulled in front of her and was gingerly spooning broth from a bowl into her mouth.
“Good morning, I’m happy to see you up and eating,” Mulder said, genuinely pleased that she was looking much improved from the day before.
“Well, don’t get too excited. I’m only permitted a bland diet,” Scully gestured to the spread on the table. There was dry toast and saltines, along with the broth that she had been sipping on when he walked in.
Scully continued, “My stomach’s been bothering me, and I threw up this morning. Hence this.”
Mulder winced, thinking once again of the tube he pulled from her mouth when she was underground in the alien pod. “I’m sorry, Scully.”
She shrugged. “They gave me some nausea medication which is helping.”
Scully motioned for Mulder to sit and then set aside the bowl with a determined look on her face. He was very familiar with that look.
“Mulder, I’m fully awake now, and you need to tell me what happened and how we got here. Including what happened to your head.” She pointed at his bandaged forehead.
Mulder explained the entire story, starting with the bee sting, how he was shot, his travels to Antarctica and the daring rescue to save her from the alien pod. How they saw a spaceship rising out of the snow and how they survived the trek to the Sno-Cat and back to the research base.
His story was fantastical, like something out of a movie, but he hoped Scully would believe him. Her eyes were big and round, completely in shock at the events that transpired, but she didn’t ask too many questions. Mulder hoped that the mental strain of knowing what had happened wouldn’t affect her recovery too much.
After Mulder finished his tale and Scully finished her breakfast, a nurse came in and announced that the physical therapist would be stopping by shortly. The doctor wanted to make sure Scully was strong enough to walk and get around before officially discharging her.
“I guess I should go,” Mulder suggested, unsure of what he would do on the base while waiting for Scully.
The nurse disagreed. “No, you can stay and help your wife.”
The nurse swiftly left the room before Mulder or Scully could correct her. Mulder looked back at Scully, who rolled her eyes. It wasn’t unusual for someone to assume that they were a couple, but it gave Mulder an even bigger thrill today when he remembered what Scully had said the night before. He didn’t mention that comment, and she also didn’t bring it up, so he thought that she didn’t realize or remember what she had said. As always, it was probably something that was too good to be true, Mulder thought defeatedly.
But he stayed and found himself helping Scully stand up from a seated position on the bed and then hovered nearby as she walked across the room at the direction of the physical therapist.
“In sickness and in health,” Mulder joked without thinking, until he saw Scully’s face. She looked confused and maybe a little alarmed. He realized too late that he should have kept his mouth shut, instead of making inappropriate remarks about his partner, but luckily Scully let it go without comment.
After successfully proving her strength and balance, Dr. Atkinson came back with discharge papers and advised Scully to take it easy for a few days. The next ship leaving Antarctica wasn’t until tomorrow, so Mulder and Scully had to stay at the base one more night, which Mulder was relieved about because it gave Scully a little bit more time to recover before a grueling travel day.
Scully was tired and spent the day resting in their assigned dorm, while Mulder explored the base. There wasn’t much to see – especially as it was winter and it was dark outside. They both ended up in the cafeteria for dinner, which looked like a college dining hall. Mulder loaded up his plate, suddenly starving, while Scully stuck to her bland diet as her stomach was still bothering her.
They ate quietly, feeling out of place dining with the scientists and other base workers. Scully took a spoonful of soup and then shivered.
“Are you still feeling cold?” Mulder asked, worried that she was discharged too quickly.
“A little,” Scully replied, pulling her sleeves down farther over her hands. “Just a lingering chill. My body temperature is in normal range, though.”
Mulder gave her a small smile. “We’ll be back in humid, moist DC soon enough.”
Scully smiled too. “I’m actually looking forward to it. I’ll never complain about our office being too hot again.”
Mulder went back to eating, looking down at his plate.
“Mulder?”
He looked up at her. She had set her utensils down and had that determined look on her face again. The look that said: it was time for an important discussion.
“What did you mean by, ‘in sickness and in health’?”
Mulder inhaled quickly and almost choked on his food. It appeared that Scully did take note of his comment earlier today. He decided he would be honest with her, even if she most likely would respond skeptically.
“Well, you proposed to me.”
“Proposed what?” she asked, genuinely confused.
“Marriage,” he stated simply.
“Marriage?” she squeaked.
Mulder chuckled. It was starting to sound like there was an echo. “Scully, last night you said to me, ‘if we cannot live without each other then we should get married.’”
He reached over to grab her hand and decided to lay it all out. “And Scully, I agree with you.”
“You agree with something I said while I was ill and half-unconscious?” she asked incredulously.
Mulder let go of Scully’s hand to rub the back of his head. “Well, when you put it like that…” he trailed off, now feeling embarrassed.
He glanced at her to gauge her expression. Her eyes were wide, but she didn’t look offended or insulted.
“Scully, is it…is it such a bad thing if I like the idea?”
There was a pause before she responded, but her face softened and she said softly, “No, it’s not a bad thing.”
They maintained eye contact until Scully looked down and then picked up her spoon to start eating again. Mulder felt unmoored, unsure of where their relationship now stood. But the dining hall in an Antarctic research base was not the time or place to have this type of conversation, so he let it go.
------
After dinner, there wasn’t much to do except go to sleep. Mulder and Scully had to be up early to catch the boat that would take them to Argentina so they could fly home to DC.
Since it was winter and the staff was only a skeleton crew, Mulder and Scully were given their own room that had several twin beds with an attached bathroom. They took turns completing their nighttime routines so they could each get some privacy. They didn’t have luggage or any personal belongings, so they had to use the meager complimentary supplies: toothbrush and toothpaste, and a bar of soap. Mulder didn’t need much, but he felt bad for Scully. She didn’t have her usual potions and lotions, the ones that made her smell good and her skin look so soft…
Mulder shook his head to clear it. Sometimes when he thought about his partner, the thoughts were less than professional. He was going to try to sleep without ruminating on how he might have royally screwed things up at dinner. But as he was dozing off, he felt the air shift.
He turned over and squinted in the low light to see who, or what, was there. “Scully,” he breathed.
She was standing next to his bed, her quiet steps undetected by Mulder until he literally felt her presence.
“What’s wrong? Do you feel okay?” he asked her, worried that she was sick again.
“Mulder, do you really want to marry me?” she asked, still lingering by his bed.
Mulder half-sat up and reached for Scully’s hand. Her fingers were cold, so he tugged her closer.
“Come here; you’re freezing.”
Mulder pulled Scully under the covers, and she tucked herself right into his side, her cold nose burrowing into his chest. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, trying to transfer some of his body heat. This was the closest they had been since Mulder had rescued Scully, and he finally felt content now that she was in his arms.
Once they were settled into bed, he answered her question.
“Yes, I really want to marry you. I realize this whole discussion has been a little unorthodox, but I’ve felt this way for a while but never thought to say anything until you brought it up. But if you don’t feel the same way, we can forget about this conversation.”
“Okay,” Scully said.
“Okay?” Mulder repeated, not sure what she agreed to.
“Okay, I will marry you,” she said, her mouth curving into a smile. “But nothing is official until there’s a ring involved,” she murmured, relaxing further into his body.
Before tonight, the thought that one day he and Scully might actually get married was a desire that he had completely tamped down, knowing that it was unlikely to happen. Now that Mulder had confirmed that she felt the same way as him made him ecstatic. He would buy her a thousand rings if she wanted, though he knew she didn’t care much for materialistic things. He would marry her tonight if there was an ordained minister on the base. Come to think of it, there probably was. But Mulder didn’t want to rush things and wanted to savor the feeling of being engaged to the love of his life.
“You’re right, Scully. I like white gold and nothing too flashy,” Mulder joked, feeling happier than he had in years, maybe even decades.
Scully laughed and it was the greatest sound in the world. “Okay, I’ll get you a ring too. When we get home,” she said.
When we get home, Mulder thought. Luckily for him, he was already there.
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Every time I fill out a medical education verification form for an alum, I think about Scully’s medical school registrar and how they must hate Dana Katherine Scully, MD with a burning passion because she is licensed in every state and is credentialed at every hospital. How else can she just pop in and doctor it up when mulder is in trouble all over the country? That’s a lot of forms, y’all!
written for the @unremarkablehouse for the secret valentine exchange. my fellow poangpal, i hope you like this & i'm v happy our paths crossed on ye olde discord <3
After a few years of working together, Mulder and Scully started an unofficial tradition of closing a case with a night out at O’Callahan’s, a dive bar not far from the Hoover Building. Mulder liked it because it reminded him of his Oxford days and Scully liked it because her Aunt Olive sometimes brought young Dana and her siblings to the local pub when she was supposed to be babysitting.
O’Callahan’s was a little grungy, but its drink specials and decent nachos drew a pretty large crowd on a Friday night. Luckily, Mulder and Scully arrived early enough to snag a booth in view of the bar but not too far from the bathrooms, the ideal spot in Scully’s mind.
Usually they drank a beer, shared an appetizer, and commiserated about work for a few hours, then went home to their respective apartments. But tonight, Scully was feeling a little tense, so she ordered a tequila soda. Mulder raised his eyebrows, then ordered whiskey neat for himself.
It had been a long week. They were on loan to the BSU; Scully had conducted a few autopsies and the paperwork they generated was another part-time job. When she wasn’t at Quantico, she was sitting in on briefings, where she was distracted by Mulder. For once, he wasn’t actually doing anything distracting, but his mere presence produced feelings of longing that Scully found difficult to suppress. Those feelings had been there for a while, but this week they were simmering even closer to the surface. Mulder and Scully had just gotten back from Florida and Scully thought she was throwing out all kinds of signs. Signs that she wanted him more than a partner or a friend. Signs that she was ready to take the next step. The fact that Mulder ignored them, consciously or unconsciously, was driving Scully crazy.
Hence, the hard liquor.
Scully finished her first drink quickly and relished the way the alcohol warmed her stomach. Mulder followed soon after, then got up to get them another round. She watched as he walked to the bar, enjoying how his pants pulled across his ass. Scully shook her head. The alcohol was supposed to be dulling these thoughts, not enhancing them.
Mulder returned their glasses to the bartender, his rolled-up shirtsleeves exposing toned forearms. Just a little bit of skin and Scully wanted to unbutton the top of her blouse to cool off. She really needed that second drink to tamp down her desire that was beginning to overwhelm her.
While Mulder was waiting for their next round, the pub started filling up with patrons. An attractive, well-dressed man went up to the bar, presumably to order drinks, and he greeted Mulder. The stranger was smiling, talking animatedly, and then gently touched Mulder on the shoulder before heading back to his table. Scully’s eyes bugged out of her head. Who was that? And why was he touching Mulder? Someone hitting on Mulder always annoyed her, but tonight it was especially grating.
Mulder returned with fresh drinks and Scully didn’t waste any time grilling him.
“Mulder, who was that?” she questioned.
“Who was who?” he asked, as he slid back into the booth, pushing her tequila soda across the table.
“That man at the bar.”
Mulder shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. He just asked if I came here often. I said sometimes after work.”
Scully sighed and looked heavenward. No wonder Mulder ran out of his motel room when she brought over wine and cheese. “Mulder, you didn’t realize he was flirting with you?”
“No, he wasn’t,” he scoffed, but then looked a little unsure. She saw him glancing toward where the man was seated.
Things were starting to click in Scully’s mind. It was becoming apparent that she was going to have to make the first move if she wanted their relationship to progress.
“Straight men are so oblivious,” she complained.
“Who says I’m straight?” he asked, leaning back in the booth and looking her in the eye.
Scully couldn’t say she was totally surprised but it was still disconcerting (and, let’s face it, very hot) to hear Mulder divulge something about this sexuality. And the images his proclamation conjured were definitely not helping matters.
Scully took a large gulp of her drink and made a proclamation of her own.
“Well, if I have to compete with both men and women, I’m not going to be happy,” she said, emboldened by the tequila.
Mulder choked a little on his own drink. “Compete?” he asked with raised eyebrows.
“Do I really need to spell it out for you?”
Mulder looked at her for a second and then grinned. “You know, it’s cute when you’re jealous.”
“Mulder, I’m armed,” she threatened.
Mulder smiled even bigger and took a sip of his drink. “Scully, you have to know that you’re in a league of your own.”
Now it was her turn to smile. She knew that alcohol was the cause of these admissions but at this point she didn’t care.
Then Mulder started crooning terribly off-key, leaning across the table to get close to her, “I only have eyes for youuuuuu,” which cemented the point.
She pushed him away. “Ugh, Mulder you need voice lessons!” And maybe some black coffee to sober up.
He laughed. “Okay, you sing something then.”
“I don’t sing.”
“You sang on the mothman case.”
“That was life or death.”
“No, it wasn’t.”
“Fine, it wasn’t, but it wasn’t in public.”
“So, I guess you don’t like karaoke?”
“Do I look like someone who does karaoke?”
“Wow, Scully, don’t let anyone tell you that you’re no fun.”
“What! I’m very fun!” she argued.
Mulder clapped his hands together. “Let’s do something fun then.”
“Like what, Mulder?” She hoped his idea of fun was going back to one of their apartments for some adult time.
He grabbed his jacket and pulled her out of the booth by hand. “l have an idea.”
They ended up at an ice cream parlor.
“Really, Mulder?” Scully sighed. So much for the naked pretzel.
“Neither of us have eaten dinner and dessert before dinner is always fun! Plus, it’s winter and ice cream is always more enjoyable when it’s cold out.” He had that look of boyish glee that appeared on his face when talking about cryptids or aliens.
Oh, you precious angel, she thought, then stopped herself. Wow, the tequila was really working tonight!
Scully let him drag her into the ice cream parlor. She was not allowed to order frozen yogurt because that was not “fun.” For some reason, “fun” had a lot of rules. Mulder got a banana split and Scully got a hot fudge sundae.
“Do you want a bite?” he asked, holding out his spoon full of ice cream. He had some whipped cream stuck to his lip, which gave her a better idea.
“Yes,” she said and leaned over to press her lips against his. After a moment, she pulled away and used her napkin to clean up the whipped cream on his face that her lips didn’t get.
Mulder looked shocked, still holding the spoon out to her. She took it from him and cleaned it off with her tongue. Mulder’s eyes widened even more.
“I told you I can be fun,” Scully said with a wink. She placed the spoon back in his bowl.
“Scully!” Mulder hissed. “You can’t do something like that in public!”
Scully noticed him discreetly crossing his legs, even though G-rated Disney movies had more passionate kisses than the one she just gave Mulder.
“Your apartment is closer,” she said, swirling her spoon through melted fudge.
“Let’s go,” he said and pushed their ice cream out of the way so that they could get up from the table.
“What’s the big hurry?” Scully teased.
“A beautiful woman asked to go back to my apartment, that’s the big hurry,” Mulder responded.
She laughed and let him pull her along, out the door. Luckily, there was a taxi idling on the corner and they hopped right in. Mulder told the cabbie his address and then leaned back next to Scully.
He smelled nice, like his cologne at the end of a long day combined with the aroma of fresh waffles from the ice cream parlor, so Scully pushed her nose into his shirt and breathed in. She wanted to do more than that, cab driver be damned, but unfortunately the buzz was starting to wear off and common sense was returning. Mulder put his arm around her and pulled her close.
Scully couldn’t wait to kiss him again, to hopefully do a lot more, but wanted to wait until she could do it properly and not with an audience. When they arrived at Mulder’s apartment, Scully beelined to the bathroom to freshen up. She was excited but also a little nervous and wondered if Mulder felt the same way.
When she came out, Mulder was fast asleep on his couch, snoring in time to the water filter on his fish tank. Scully sighed. Despite his bigger size, she always held her liquor better than him, so she should have expected this outcome. She could wake him – and was sure he wouldn’t mind – but he looked so peaceful. Instead, Scully draped the Aztec blanket over Mulder instead, pressed a kiss to his forehead, and wrote him a quick note before heading home.
---------------------
When Mulder woke up the next day, the sun glaring through his open blinds, he was confused. The last thing he remembered was eating ice cream with Scully and now he was on his couch. He saw a note propped up next to a glass of water. It read: Rain check?
Mulder let out a sigh, the memories returning. Scully kissing him. Them getting in the cab to come back to his apartment. Twice in two weeks he fumbled the best thing that ever happened to him.
Mulder put the note in his pocket and grabbed his wallet and keys. The sun was shining, and it wasn’t going to rain today.
