Work Text:
“I dreamt about you last night.”
It was an odd sensation the one running through his body. He woke up, worriedly. Hence why on his way to work, he simply swung by the supermarket he usually frequented. A few items down in his bag, and he was ready to go to work, early for a change.
Setting down the items on the desk, Mulder made sure the coffees he had picked on his way downstairs were warm enough for her to enjoy. All he wanted was to be attentive, really. Even more so after the dream he had.
Scully, shivering, trembling, with cold sweat covering her tiny body. She was sick. And after the nightmares during her cancer, Mulder learned to listen to these sort of dreams. But before, he hadn’t had a chance because she didn’t want him to see her vulnerable. Hopefully now, he would.
Turning on the heater, he arranged the desk for her to take the comfortable chair. After all, she was probably drained. Everything was ready. Scully just had to get into work.
It was weird for Dana Scully to get sick. If she had to be completely honest, she didn't quite remember the last time she had had a fever. Or the last time she had gotten a cold. All she knew was that she felt like death yet she couldn't call in sick. There was a pile of reports and paperwork that needed to be completed, signed and sent before the work day was over and, for obvious reasons, she knew she couldn't trust Mulder to do it himself. He would get both of them a suspension for not handing in finished paperwork in time. Again.
Walking into the FBI Headquarters building, and not even five seconds after crossing the main door, she regretted going. But taking a deep breath, she managed to drag herself all the way to the basement office where she was welcomed by the FBI's most unwanted.
All it took for him to shoot up from his chair and flatten his tie was for Scully to walk in, with a red nose that matched her hair. It was an adorable sight, really. Mulder really, truthfully wished she had stayed home, but he also knew they had a lot of work to do, and even if he did try his best, he wouldn’t have been able to provide it by the end of the work day.
Looking at her with a small smile, he pulled the chair back, waiting for her to sit down “Morning, Scully. How are you feeling?” His eyes were looking all over her, hoping to find something else that could be bothering her. Other than his usual conspiracy mood or his spooky comments and the fact that she didn’t own a desk.
"Sick, I'm feeling sick," she muttered, after letting out a sigh. "I didn't want to come but I knew I couldn't let you do paperwork on your own, or else you were going to kill me more than this cold already is. Or worse, Skinner was going to kill both of us."
"I-- Yeah, you're right. I tried to start with the first sentence on the Duncan case and it was a total blast. I'm glad you're here though... Despite... You feeling sick." Pulling back the chair a little bit more, he patted it "Come. Sit. I got you coffee and bagels. Oh! And soup for lunch."
Mulder had coffee and bagels for her? Already? That early in the morning? That was new.
And fairly odd.
"Uhm... thank you, Mulder," she nodded her head, sitting down on the chair he was offering her.
His smile reached his eyes, and he simply nodded, taking the blanket he kept in a drawer, to place it on her back "There. Better? Is the heater temperature good or are you still cold? I can fix it if you'd like me to. I had to bring the one on my place. Because the one Skinman got us was quite... Busted."
"Uhm, thanks, the temperature is fine," she said, her brows furrowed in nothing but confusion. "But let me ask you, Mulder... to what exactly do I owe the pleasure of all of this? Coffee, bagels, soup for lunch, a blanket and this overall care? As far as I know, you didn't know I was sick so there's no way in Hell you could have had all this prepared before I got here!"
His eyebrows shot up at her question, and he just smiled at her "It doesn't really matter. You're not gonna believe it anyways. Can I get you some water? I could run to the store and get you some orange juice?"
She considered the idea of getting orange juice for a moment, before focusing on her confusion once more.
"It's just weird... How did you know I was sick?"
Sighing, he just closed his eyes briefly before sighing and looking down at her, while resting his body against the desk to face her. He knew she wasn't going to believe him, yet he still held hopes she could read his eyes and the way he just glanced at her. He wanted her to feel good, to nurse her cold the best way possible. So without any delay, he just answered her question.
"I dreamt about you last night.”