#sharing dinner

“See? He’s really a sweet dog, you just need to get used to him,” Scully said, smiling at Queequeg.

“No thanks. It’s been a few months now. I’m gonna pass.”

“Mulder…” she said with a laugh and he shook his head as he clipped the leash on, pushing all his fluffed up fur out of the way.

“Scully, he barely classifies as a dog in my opinion. He’s a ball of fluff with sharp fucking teeth. But, I understand that like all living creatures, he needs to pee. So, I’ll take him out for you as you are kindly making us dinner.”

“Making me dinner, you just happened to come over,” she stated, raising an eyebrow at him and he shrugged, putting on his coat and shoving bags into his pocket.

“Don’t forget his treats.”

“He can have them when he comes back.”

“Mulder, he gets one after he poops.”

“Scully…” He tilted his head, staring at her in disbelief.

“It encourages him to go outside and not-”

“On your bedroom floor?”

“Hell yes. I don’t want to wake up to that mess again.” She shuddered and he nodded.

“I’ll bring the treats.”

“Thank you. Oh, and there is a package of wipes there too. Did you get those?”

“Why the hell would I need wipes?”

“For cleaning him off… after he’s pooped.”

“Scully,” he said with a loud exhale and dropping his hand from where it had been on the doorknob.

“Mulder, he gets messy. All that fur...”

“So you want me to pick up his poop and wipe his ass when he’s finished?” he asked and she snorted, which became a loud laugh as she shook her head.

“It...” She tried to compose herself, but laughed again. “It keeps it from getting elsewhere.”

“This dog is a fucking menace,” he said, opening the drawer and taking out the wipes, staring at her as she continued laughing softly.

“Thank you,” she said, letting out a deep breath and trying not to smile.

“That chili better be delicious,” he said gruffly and she grinned.

“It will be.”

“Hmph,” he hummed, opening the door and shaking his head as he pulled Queequeg through it. Closing it, he looked down at him and sighed, hearing Scully’s laughter through the door.

“Listen here, you’re going to do your business, no fucking about, and we’re coming right back, got it? It’s cold out and that chili Scully’s making smells really good. Okay?” Queequeg only blinked up at him, tilting his head from side-to-side. “Let’s go.”

They walked down the hall, down the stairs, one frustrating puffball hop at a time, and out the lobby doors. Mulder shivered as they stepped into the winter air, his breath a white cloud of mist as he breathed out. Queequeg stopped on the front steps and would not budge, whining and sneezing.

“What did I say? Come on, you demon dog.” He tugged at the leash and Queequeg whined again.

“Hey man, be nice to your dog,” a teenage kid called and flipped Mulder off, as his friend beside him laughed.

“Keep walking. Mind your own business.”

“Fuck off,” they both yelled as they walked by and Mulder looked down at Queequeg.

“See that? We’re only on the stoop and you’ve already caused a problem. This time, do what I say and come on.”

He tugged again and this time Queequeg moved, walking next to Mulder as they went down the steps and in the opposite direction as the teenage boys, not up for some stupid childish skirmish.

Mulder put his hands in his pockets and walked on, listening to Queequeg’s toenails clipping along the sidewalk. Realizing it was quite a fast clip, he slowed his stride and looked down, seeing he was now walking slower. Smiling slightly, they continued walking.

“Why did she name you Queequeg? Do you even like that name?” Glancing down again, he watched him sniff a tree and then stopped, lifting his leg to pee on it. “I would have called you something way better, something fitting a dog like you. Chomper, Killer, Cannibal- although I suppose you didn’t eat a dog, so cannibal doesn’t quite fit. But you seem the type, so I’m keeping it in the possibility column. Or Old Lady Eater- and call you O-Lee, never telling anyone what the letters stand for, because… damn man.”

They kept walking, Queequeg stopping often to pee on trees, Mulder wondering how he had so much liquid in such a small body. Halfway around, he stopped again, sniffing the ground, a tree and back to the ground.

“Come on. Just go,” Mulder grumbled, getting a bag from his pocket, ready to pick up the small, but annoying shits Queequeg was about to leave behind.

He sniffed around again and then assumed the position, Mulder looking away to give him some privacy. A woman walked by with a little girl and she looked at Queequeg with a smile.

“Mommy, can we get a dog?” she asked and Mulder nearly told her she could have his and he would clean the poop as she took him away.

But he only smiled as they passed, her mother telling her a dog was a big responsibility.

“Yes they are,” he said quietly, bending to pick up the poop with a grimace. “Even when they aren’t your own.” Queequeg barked at him, his backend wiggling happily, and Mulder rolled his eyes.

“Just give me a second,” he muttered, closing the bag and looking around, thankfully finding a trash can close by. Dropping the bag in the trash, he took the wipes from his pocket with a groan.

“This is the last thing I want to do and if you bite me, I swear to God, dog…” He shook his head and squatted down next to him.

Holding him by the underside of his neck, more so to control the possibility of a bite, he took out a wipe and wiped his back end, making a face as he did. Even more so when  he saw there was some mess there, and thinking if he had not wiped him, where it would have ended up.

“Christ,” he muttered, wiping him once more and throwing out the wipes. Queequeg barked again, staring at him and waiting. Squatting down once more, he gave him a couple of treats.

“She spoils you, you know and you better appreciate it. No one gives me anything special after I take a shit and if I had done it like you, I would have gotten a ticket or been arrested, not given a goddamn meaty treat. You appreciate it, pal. I’m going to give you one extra for not biting me.”

Queequeg took it and licked his mouth when he was done, staring up at Mulder expectantly, waiting for another. Scoffing, Mulder shook his head and stood up, tugging gently on the leash and continuing their walk.

Ten minutes later, they were approaching Scully’s apartment and Queequeg began to pull, hurrying toward the steps.

“Sure. Now you’re in a hurry. But stopping at every tree…”

Mulder’s stomach grumbled as they walked up the steps and through the lobby. Lifting and holding Queequeg in his arms, who licked his fingers happily, no doubt tasting the remnants of the treats upon his skin, he walked up the stairs to Scully’s floor.

“Don’t get used to this, as it does not make us friends. I’m cold and hungry and your legs are even shorter than Scully’s. It would have taken you forever to get up the stairs.”

Depositing him onto the ground when they reached the top, they continued down the hallway and to her door. He knocked twice and waited for her to answer it, Queequeg barking excitedly, his feet scratching at the door.

“Okay, okay. I hear you,” she laughed and the door was opened, the delicious aroma of chili wafting behind her. She smiled at him and he rolled his eyes slightly, hearing her silently saying, See? It wasn’t so bad.

“Come in,” she said, laughing again. “It’s as though you timed it perfectly.”

“Hmm,” he hummed, bending to take off the leash and putting it and the other things back into the drawer before hanging up his coat. “Well, he peed on nearly every tree, pooped, was wiped, and had his treats.”

“Treats? Plural? How many did you give him?”

“Ummm… three?”

“Mulder! I said he gets one. One treat.”

“Oh… well, tonight he got three,” he said with a shrug, walking further into the kitchen.

“And now he won’t eat his dinner.”

“Because of two extra treats? Scully, come on he’ll-” He stopped short and pointed to a bowl, looking at her with his eyebrows raised. “What’s that?”

“It’s a… bowl of hamburger meat,” she said, an innocent look on her face, but her eyes did not meet his.

“Meat that was cooked, but not mixed in with the chili?”

“It would be too rich for him.”

“For the dog? The dog who had two extra treats? You kept a bowl of meat set aside for him, but I’m the one who ruined his appetite? That dog?” He pointed at Queequeg and shook his head. “Not a chance.” She held his stare and smiled slowly.

“Just shut up and dish up your chili,” she said, shaking her head and joining him by the stove.

Filling Queequeg’s bowl with kibble, adding in some hamburger, she set it down in front of him, where he proceeded to eat it hurriedly, as though he had not eaten in days.

Mulder shivered at the thought of what, no who, he had eaten not so long ago as he washed his hands at the sink. Shaking his head, he picked up one of the two white bowls Scully had set out and ladled out two large scoops, handing the bowl to her. She touched his back in thanks, adding some onions and cheese to her bowl.

He filled his own, adding more onions than she had and joined her at the table. She offered the plate of bread to him and he took a piece, dunking it into his chili.

“Thanks for dinner,” he said, his mouth full.

“Thanks for walking Queequeg. I’m glad to see you’re warming up to him. Would you like some wine?”

“Sure,” he said with a nod, as she stood up and began rummaging through the drawers looking for the wine opener. Narrowing his eyes, he looked at Queequeg as he licked his bowl and then his chops.

“Hey… O-Lee,” Mulder called softly to him, Queequeg’s beady eyes turning his way. “I know what you did. We will never be friends. I’ll always be watching you. Always.” Licking his chops again, Queequeg barked at him and scurried away, as Mulder shook his head and took another bite of his chili.

“Mulder,” Scully said in a sweet tone, joining him again at the table. “I am really happy to  see you getting along better with Queequeg, that you’re making an effort.”

He said nothing, but thought of how it had been to wipe that dog’s furry ass. About to tell her it would be a cold day in hell before he warmed up to that demon dog, she put her hand on his forearm and smiled.

“My mom is going out of town next weekend and I was thinking of joining her. Would you be interested in watching Queequeg for me?”