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It is on her desk when she comes in that morning.
Single, solitude - the yellow contrasts with the dark wood of the table. He is no where to be found, but the presence of his jacket alerts her that he’s been there. Secretly relieved that she could enter the office and gather her thoughts without him being there, she drops her handbag, and picks up the flower, a long-stemmed yellow rose with red tips. She smiles and her stomach flutters.
She left his apartment in the early pre-dawn hours, the birds having only awoken slightly before. She left him sleeping in his bed with his sheets smelling of them. Her skin shivers as she remembers how he moved above her, the look of utter awe on his face as he entered her that first time. She brings the rose to her nose, and smiles as its sweet scent washes over her. Her cheeks redden, and she drops her chin to her chest. He really is sweet sometimes…
“A secret admirer, Scully?”
She alerts to the sound of his baritone voice, and turns to him unable to fight the smile on her lips. She hides her mirth behind the rose, bringing it to her nose, looking at him over downcast eyes.
“It would appear so…” She smirks behind the soft petals.
His smile is radiant even as he tries to fight it, and she watches his cheeks color as he approaches her. It's like her first middle school crush all over again. Will you go with me to the Valentine's Dance, Dana...
“So, who is the lucky guy…?” He sits on the corner of his desk, crossing his arms in front of him.
She twirls the flower in the air, and purses her lips. “I don’t know. There wasn’t a note.” She feigns ignorance, glancing at him side-ways as she stands in front of him.
He reaches for the flower with twist of his lips. “Well…” he begins, “You know what they say about Fire-Tipped Roses…?”
The softness of his tone reminds her of when he held her only hours before, whispering secrets and hidden desires in her ear as his hand stroked her swollen flesh to a shuddering end. Finally, she looks up at him, feeling her heart swell as their eyes meet for the first time since she left the comfort of his arms.
“No,” she whispers, incapable of using her voice suddenly. He smirks at her lack of sound and brings the rose up to his own nose.
“They say that a yellow rose represents friendship, and a red rose represents–”
“Love,” she whispers, feeling her cheeks flush as the word leaves her mouth.
He smiles and nods, handing her the flower. “Right,” he continues. “But a yellow flower with a red tip symbolizes excitement… new beginnings."
New beginnings... The breath catches in her throat.
“It symbolizes the union of friendship and passion, the merging of the two…" he says softly, finally meeting her eyes. Her mouth goes dry. His eyes drop to her mouth, lingering on her lips. "Falling in love,” he finishes at length with a lift of his eyes.
“Falling in love?” she repeats, though no louder than a whisper, and they're suddenly silent with the implications of such a statement.
“Good morning, by the way,” he whispers with a soft smile.
She ducks her chin ruefully. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there this morning."
He shrugs. “I know you didn’t have any clothes at my place."
“Well… Maybe I should leave a bag in the car… or something,” she says coyly, fighting a smile.
He nods, brushing his finger along her jaw. “It WOULD be practical - you never know when you might need a change of clothes.”
“Very true, Agent Mulder. You should probably do the same.” She hides her smile behind the rose.
—
It became the easiest way to remind each other of what really mattered, a single Fire-Tipped Rose. In their darkest hours, and desperate moments, it remained a symbol of them, of their love.
Over the years, he found ways of reminding her.
Sometimes she found one on her pillow, or under the wiper of her car. Sometimes, she woke up to one laying next to a cup of coffee as she stepped out the shower, or placed as a book mark in the book on her nightstand. One time, she remembers one being dragged down her body, tickling her skin before he spent the next three hours making love to her. Regardless of how he left it, it always made her smile.
It always made her remember what was important, that THEY were important. Forever reminder of the first night they shared.