Scully, over the phone: hello sir just letting you know agent mulder and I are chasing a werewolf in los angeles and every conspiracy theory that comes out of his mouth is being recorded for prosperity and broadcast on national television

Mulder is living his dream

Scully wishes the ground would swallow her whole

A big shout out to @randomfoggytiger for the inspiration to write something while I recover from surgery :) I hope you like it!! After writing I recalled that maybe you're not a big fan of reading smut? So anyway I edited the version below to take out the brief smuttiness just in case.

Readers can find a slightly spicier version here on Ao3.

Please read whichever you fancy! Cheers!

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When Scully comes to Mulder's place to watch The X-Cops episode, anxiety about the show airing leads to deeper revelations.

(This takes place post X-Cops but pre-All Things).

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The knock on his door was hesitant and incomplete. “Coming!” he announced, rushing to the door. He worried that by the time he finished rinsing his mouth of toothpaste he would find the door to the stairwell closing, she having thought better of this little watch party. Instead he was greeted by a decidedly casual Scully, holding a six-pack of Shiner Bock, and  wearing her long black trench over faded jeans and an oversized Stanford crewneck.

 And a pronounced frown.

“Let’s get this over with then”. 

He smiled softly as he watched her making herself at home; hanging her coat across a chair, fiddling around in the kitchen. When she opened the fridge to deposit the beer she predictably questioned him- 

“Mulder, when was the last time you went to the store? The only things you have in here are certainly producing new life forms by now”.

“Yeah, that’s for you, Scully. I grew them for you. Because you love science!” 

She looked back to find him sporting a full smile now, which she reluctantly returned.

“Um, actually, there is something for you in there. In the freezer, I mean”. 

She opened the freezer door to find his usual assortment of years-old, frost bitten microwave burritos, some stray orange juice concentrate, and a pale green, decadent looking pint of ice cream- ohh, it’s pistachio gelato, she realized, touched. Her favorite.

She held the pint in her hand and regarded him with a mix of gratitude and dread. 

“You think it's going to be really bad, don’t you?”

Mulder chuckled and joined her in the kitchen to open their beers. 

“What? No! I just wanted to do something nice. I know you're stressed”.  

He handed her a bottle and immediately clinked it against his to initiate a toast.

“Whatever  we see tonight, Scully, remember- you have nothing to fear. Because we have nothing to hide”. 

“Right, it’s just that we might appear-”

“And anyways the fear might kill us, remember?”. 

She quickly located and threw a dingy kitchen towel in his direction. 

“Will you stop that! This could be bad! Like, really bad!”

Seeing her genuine concern, highlighted by her sudden ineloquence, he took her by the hand and led her to the couch. 

“Look,  I honestly think it's going to be fine. Who even knows how much of us they will show?”.

She nodded, without looking him fully in the eye. 

“Better turn it on then, it’s almost 9”, she conceded. 

He flipped on the TV and they settled onto the leather couch. Rather, he settled; she was seated towards the edge of the sofa, knees nearly knocking into the coffee table. He sipped his beer as the cheesy credits played. 

“Bad boys, bad boys-”

“We don’t have to watch this, you know. I have an assortment of  bad 80s comedies with which to regale”.

His tone was sweet and sincere, but she didn't budge. It wasn’t just nerves about the show- it was him, too. 

Things had been different with them lately;  or maybe things had been finally advanced to a point where denial had become futile. 

In the three months since they wrapped the case in LA, they just seemed to gravitate towards each other. Gazes lingered, as did touches. They spent more time together outside of work with little regard for the ‘cover’ of finishing reports. 

One Sunday he just popped over with croissants and a book and they lazed about her home for the day. They took walks and made pasta and fell asleep watching an old movie.

When he gently nudged her to indicate he was leaving she encountered a strange and sudden realization. 

She loved him. She wanted him. And she was very much afraid.

“It’s fine, Mulder. I need to see how bad the exposure is…For the FBI”. 

Mulder was skeptical of this; Skinner gave his ok on the production, and Scully did not concern herself with laundering the reputation of the criminal FBI hierarchy. His heart ached with guilt-she must simply be embarrassed of me. 

But he was determined she wouldn’t have an awful night. 

He made comments throughout the episode and during commercial breaks. 

“You look really good on camera, Scully. Very photogenic. See how the light catches your eyes there?” 

She stared straight ahead, occasionally sippling her beer, while Mulder did his best to lighten the mood whenever possible.

He remarked about Steve and Edy’s surprisingly moving connection to their community and each other, the officers' respective strengths in the field, and his feelings about the city planning of the greater Los Angeles area. 

He spoke of his ambivalence in participating in the potential exploitation for vulnerable individuals, and the irony that for many, the police itself was their greatest fear. 

She tried to listen- to let herself be distracted- but her focus was on ScreenMulder as he described his evolving theory of this creature, this entity.

My boss's boss just heard you say entity, Mulder, she thought but did not share. 

She could tell he felt guilty, and she didn't want that. 

When the scene came on of her at the autopsy bay, rambling and rationalizing about the impossible virus-like death of her fellow pathologist, she buried her head in her hands. 

“Kill me”, she begged. 

Mulder had had enough. He reached for the remote and quickly powered off the television. 

She looked up, momentarily stunned out of her mournful anxiety, to find Mulder fully turned towards her, resting both of his hands upon her knee. 

“Scully,  I’m sorry. I’m sorry you're in this position at all. But please don’t do this to yourself. I know you don’t want to look foolish but I don’t think it’s possible- you are too brilliant and too good. And if Skinner or anyone else upstairs has something to say- I am not going to let this fall on you. I will do whatever I can to limit the professional damage this might cause you”. 

She was touched by his insistence.

“Mulder, that’s not what I’m worried about”.

She stood and turned towards the window. She could feel tears welling in her eyes but she quickly dismissed them with a sharp breath. 

“Scully- what then, what are you-”

She turned to face him before she could stop herself from telling the truth. 

“I’m afraid they’ll break us up!”

 She admitted loudly, cutting through his gentle confusion.

 “If  we look ridiculous, if they edit it in a particular way…It’s one thing for us to garner the attention of some local papers or Fed building gossip, but this is prime time TV we're talking about! On network television!”

He fought himself for just a beat before a low-hanging retort fell from his mouth-

“I mean it's FOX on Friday night, so-”

She knew he meant to undercut the heaviness with humor, as he so often did, but this was the wrong damn time. She lunged for her coat before moving decisively towards the door. 

Her hand was on the handle when Mulder caught up to her in the foyer.

“Wait, wait! I’m sorry, I’m really sorry, Scully- please- give me your coat. Don’t go- I want to talk about this”.

Silence filled the space for a minute until Scully mercifully obliged him. 

“Talk, then”. She held her coat tightly. 

“Thank you. Listen, I’m sorry. I didn't realize- I didn’t know that’s what you were worried about. Will you say more? I thought you were just embarrassed…”. 

“No, Mulder.  I mean- I am! I’m not relishing the thought of Bill and Tara watching us chat about werewolves, but that’s not why I'm so upset”.

She took a breath as she slowly softened into the moment. 

“We both know they are only too happy to find a reason to close The X-Files, to reassign us- to send me to Salt Lake or wherever the hell. I don’t want to do that. I can't do that Mulder- and if they take you away-”

Tears were ready to betray her before Mulder reached for her, closing the gap between them and wrapping his arms firmly around her. 

She fought the tears and the deep comfort of his embrace for just a moment before surrendering. She dropped her coat to their feet as she moved her arms around his middle- their height difference particularly prominent with her in sneakers. 

The hug was long and loving. She let herself cry into his shirt. She let herself be held.

Eventually her tears stopped and there they stood, very lightly swaying and reveling in the prolonged closeness. He let his arms fall from her back to clasp her hands and lead back to the couch. 

As they sat, he beheld her in gratitude, forever grateful for the vulnerability she had just shared with him. 

“Scully, I'm sorry you've been worried about this. And I get it- we’ve been there before and I know how I felt…” he drifted momentarily, recalling his utter despair at the many times her life was threatened. 

He squeezed her hand and went on- determined to get this right for her.

“Listen, far be it from me to offer hollow assurances about our relative safety or job security, but I truly don’t think we're going down because of this”- he said, gesturing to the blank TV. 

“Sure, we- I- rather- had a few out-there takes, but we didn’t do anything illegal or otherwise unprofessional. We arguably helped to halt the spread of the contagion. We didn’t impede the local investigation…by federal law enforcement standards that’s pretty decent”. 

She smiled meekly at him then.She was unbelievably beautiful, eyes red in a threadbare sweatshirt. He pushed a rouge piece of hair off her perfect face.

“Scully I can’t know where our professional fates will lead us, but we will continue to do good work- because we can't not. And there is no ‘breaking us up’. Not anymore. I would follow you. We would find a way- to work together-” he took a breath before he continued.

“To- to be together. Always”.

She glimpsed the innocence in his eyes, grateful he was joining her on this emotional cliff.

“At least, that’s what I would want”, he offered, by way of undercutting his forwardness.. 

She thought she might cry again but instead she let the certainty of his words soothe her wary heart. She needed to hear this. 

“Yeah, that’s what I would want, too”.

“For a long time now, Scully”. His voice was gravely and low, his face having moved closer at some point. 

“For a long time…” She repeated. 

They were laying so much bare but barely forming whole thoughts. 

They understood. 

They moved to kiss each other, then- softly at first but with an unmistakable hunger. Their senses were overwhelmed and they were delighted by the little things;  how well his bottom lip fit between hers, how silky her hair felt as he gathered it in his hands. 

It was all inevitable but no less stunning.

And then he was on top of her- a frantic tangle of limbs and touching. This is actually happening, he thought, just before his brain came back online.

“Fuck”- he breathed against her mouth. 

He enjoyed the heat of them another moment before pulling back. 

“Scully- I can’t believe I’m saying this but maybe-”

“We should slow down?” she offered sweetly.

He reluctantly peeled himself off of her, in one motion pulling her up with him to sit. 

“It’s just- this is all a lot- and so amazing- but you were just so upset and crying and-”

“No,  Mulder, I agree”, she said, standing and pulling him to his feet to walk her to the door. 

“We have covered a lot of ground tonight. We should have our heads on a little straighter when we-” she looked up to him, her eyes impossibly blue.   

“When it happens”. 

“Because it’s going to happen?”, he asked sincerely but lustfully, moving in close and bracketing his hands behind her on the door. 

She bit her lip before she coyly replied- 

“Why do you think I’m leaving so fast? It’s going to happen- sooner or later”.

“So, is it later?” he asked before descending to kiss her hard, their bodies immediately straining to recreate the so-recently discovered proximity. Her hands rose to tousle and gently tug at his hair, while he grabbed her by the waist,  picking up right where they left off.

She gently pushed away, remembering, somehow, the thoughtful decision they had just made. When they referred to this happening, it was more than sex. It was everything.

 There would be time.

They beamed at each other for a moment before he leaned in to whisper in her ear-  

“I think maybe- what I said earlier about slowing down? I was maybe, what’s the clinical term for it- “out of my fucking mind?”. 

“Oh, definitely", she agreed with a wide smile, before turning to exit at last.

“Hey, wait!” he exclaimed . She nodded impatiently. She wasn’t kidding- she needed to leave now if she wanted to maintain this cool exterior.

He bounded to the fridge in three big steps and quickly returned with the gelato. 

“For you, enjoy”, he said with his hand out to her.

She moved to grab the pint before picking up her coat instead.

“I will. Next time”. She left before he could answer; before she could change her mind.

cobb skirt 👀 i really like him

ONE. FUCKING. EPISODE.

GIMME MY EVIL COP MUSIC 💔💔💔