Little_Earthquakes
Fandoms
- The X-Files (11)
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He usually liked this part; the darkness enveloping them in close proximity, the oncoming headlights lighting her face for split seconds at a time, the calm, the crackle of the radio and the good-natured arguments about station choice. It usually felt comfortable. It was low stakes time in the presence of a beautiful woman; his scale dwarfing hers in a way it never seemed to in the field, the scent of her perfume and her hair. He could snatch the briefest of looks at her profile with little recourse, catch the flame of her hair in the headlights the chiaroscuro that settled on her features. That face was built to be rendered by a great master he thought, Rembrandt maybe. No, he corrected, Caravaggio; dramatic and reverential, like she was, and lit from within.
He realised that he shouldn’t really be so aware of all of this, it wasn’t entirely professional. She had an effect on him that he tried hard to deny.
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“What have you got there Agent Scully?”
“Wine.” She said simply
“I see that, contraband from the reunion I take it?” he asked teasingly, “and on duty agent Scully, now that is risky.” He tried to feign appalled indignancy but the lines at the corners of his eyes betrayed him.
“Are you going to share with the rest of the class?” he asked.
She smiled looking up at him in that way she rarely did these days. It was the mischievous look of the Scully that laughed in the rain and the Scully that ate ribs with fuck me eyes. The Scully that the abduction and the cancer had tried to kill. The girl who had burned like a flame petered into the woman that lived in the embers. It was the flicker of combustion she let slip very occasionally.
It was compelling. It was the rare moment that made him stand up and listen. It spoke to something primal.“That was the plan” she grinned “The night is still young… and so are we”
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“What is it?” she said “What’s wrong?”
“Go and get changed,” he said softly “There’s been an accident. Your Mom has been taken to Georgetown Memorial. I’ve just spoken to Bill, he’s on his way.”
“Oh my god!” she stood knocking her coffee over in her haste “Shit,” she grabbed a wad of paper towels and started trying to clean up “What happened?”
He stilled her hands, placing both of his over hers “Look at me please” he said gently, his tone reassuring. She didn’t want to, she knew one look at him and she’d crumble but she did it anyway. His eyes were soft and reassuring brimming with concern.
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“Young-ish and half a brain? Really?” he teased “You’ve got the most brilliant mind. For God sake Scully you rewrote Einstein for your senior thesis.”
She scoffed “I’m not sure that’s so much brilliance Mulder as it was youthful arrogance.”
“Maybe. I read it remember, it might have been arrogant, but it was still brilliant.” He opened the window and threw out a handful of shells. “And come on Scully, you really think that’s all it is? That you’re young-ish? I believe I once told you that it’s remotely plausible someone might think you’re hot.”
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It didn’t take long. Fifteen minutes and he was standing at the lookout point. He remembered it taking longer. Perhaps it was just age or maybe it was because his legs were longer but he looked out at the view he had seen hundreds of times and breathed in deeply. He had stood here as a child holding his sisters hand “Don’t let her fall Fox,” his mother had drummed into him “Hold her hand” he could feel the ghost of her palm still clutching his. He had stood here as a teen and thought about jumping, an intrusive thought when things were at their worst that he had never really intended to do. He had had his first kiss just a few hundred feet away and a few years later laid here with a girl under cover of darkness and had one of his first sexual experiences. This beautiful view had seen so much.
This place had held so many memories.
He came here now to let it all go.
Recent bookmarks
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Summary
Five years in, the line finally breaks. Mulder/Scully, established-ish, mostly explicit.
Bookmarked by Little_Earthquakes
01 Jun 2026
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* I’ve added Chapter 5 - “Wednesday” *
Saturdays (and more days) in love.
Bookmarked by Little_Earthquakes
30 May 2026
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This is a short post-Orison fic.
After the attack, Scully chooses to remain in her apartment. She is struggling with a profound sense of lost control in every sense of the word: Pfaster’s intrusion, the physical restraint, and even the act of killing him, which leaves her feeling displaced from her own agency. Leaving the apartment feels, to her, like an acknowledgment that Pfaster still holds a presence there, in the space that should be hers.
Mulder, in turn, decides that if she stays, he will stay with her.
That night, Scully attempts to reclaim control in a way that ultimately leaves her feeling even more hollow. In the aftermath, Mulder helps her begin to understand what control actually is, and what it is not.
Bookmarked by Little_Earthquakes
30 Apr 2026
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Summary
A series of works recontextualizing the evolution of Mulder and Scully's relationship in season eight beginning from DeadAlive onwards. The series is written as a string missing scenes and missing context throughout season eight. Scenes not included in the series happened as broadcast.
- Words:
- 286,346
- Works:
- 7
- Bookmarks:
- 8
Bookmarked by Little_Earthquakes
14 Apr 2026
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Summary
The third in a series of works recontextualizing the evolution of Mulder and Scully's relationship in season eight beginning from DeadAlive onwards. The series is written as a string missing scenes and missing context throughout season eight. Scenes not included in the series happened as broadcast. This work focuses on the season eight episode Empedocles.
Series
- Part 3 of The Spaces Between
Bookmarked by Little_Earthquakes
11 Apr 2026