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Mulder was panting again.
She rolled her eyes, watching the short-skirted, sly-talking, vixen cop Officer Vivian Lloyd go on about what amazing work he does, how he’s so brave yada yada yada.
Her red tail swished back and forth irritably. For an Oxford Psychology graduate, Mulder could be as dense and as one-track-minded as any other male. Her partner was no different.
“Mulder,” she snapped, watching his tall, sharp ears tilt in her direction, but his gaze never left the other woman’s face as she continued to praise him. “Mulder,” Scully says again, her voice higher. She was near to the point of grabbing him by his stupid big sharp ears and his stupid fluffy tail and dragging him away. She wanted to sink his claws in his eyes.
No... His eyes were too nice for that, she hated to admit.
“Yeah, I’m coming, Scully,” he said, and then he was jogging up beside her, smiling a big toothy smile like he hadn’t been flirting with some tramp.
Not that she really cared. She didn’t. No sir.
It was only natural women would notice him, especially one as Officer Lloyd over there, who Scully was sure was staring at her partner’s backside. She was a pretty vixen, arctic and pure as snow, and Mulder, being a healthy male fox himself, should find the desire to settle down someday and have kits of his own. Something which could obviously not happen with her.
“You okay, Scully?” Mulder asked, sliding gracefully into the rental car with her. His black paws grasped the steering wheel, claws tapping. His long, Reynard features gazing back at her as he bent over and nudged her shoulder with his wet black nose, the gray and tan fur around his face giving him quite the spooky look. “You look like someone rubbed your fur the wrong way.”
Yes, Mulder, you did, she wanted to say, but grounded her teeth and said, “I’m fine. Let’s go home.”
He squinted at her as if he could see through her lie. But she didn’t care, and pulled her seatbelt on and positioned her long tail to sit comfortably.
“Okay…” he started the car and drove off.
~.~.~.~
He wasn’t really sure what her problem was. It wasn’t a new look on her, and parts of him wanted to psychoanalyze the hell out of her to figure out her standoffish behavior. He refrained from doing so, though, and chalked it up to her being like any other pissy cat.
Yet he wasn't one to believe in stereotypes.
“Scully, um,” he began, licking his muzzle, watching the dark ginger puss from the corner of his eye. “Did something happen back there?”
“Oh, no, nothing at all,” she said, her voice high and annoyed. His ears flattened. “Just didn’t want to ruin your precious goodbye with Vivian.”
“What?” Now he was confused.
This seemed to break her, causing her to whip her head around in the speed of light. “Clearly, you seem to want one thing and that’s the nearest piece of willing ass available.”
Mulder threw his foot down on the break and came to a screeching halt on the side of the road. Dust was kicked up all around, but he sat there as still as a hunter at the moment before the pounce. “Is that what you think of me?”
“Well, you have zero professionalism as it is, Agent Mulder! You might as well be spraying pheromones in every direction a girl of your spe—“
“Of my what, Scully? Of my what? My species? Don’t you think I have enough reminders a day that my parents were so creative that they decided to name me, a fox, Fox? And why in the world do you think I’m looking for a mate, huh?”
“Oh, don’t tell me you weren’t flirting with her. You were panting right down her tits.”
“We were discussing the details of the case! And it’s ninety degrees outside! I don’t—do you really have so little faith in me?”
“There’s no need for faith here, Mulder. You can do whatever the hell it is you want. Go find the next willing vixen to have your kits and stop stringing me along!”
Her face fell, and Mulder instantly understood the issue.
“You don’t think I want you just because you're a cat?”
She turned away.
Mulder huffed, annoyed with all this, and leaned over so far that the stick-shift dug into his side. But he didn’t care and pressed his snout against Scully’s soft red cheek. She bristled. “After nearly seven years of working together, you don’t think I want you?”
They didn’t like to speak about their feelings. It just wasn’t their thing. The “L” word kind of just hovered around them lately. They kissed New Years, but— They weren’t really a couple. Mulder wanted to change that and knew she did too but had no idea how. And despite complaining that Mulder had the worst communication skills, they knew the others body language like it was their native tongue.
She shifted awkwardly. “Mulder, we c—”
“I don’t really give a damn, Scully. I—I wasn’t checking Officer Lloyd out. Really. If it looked that way, I'm sorry. You shouldn’t feel jealous.”
“I am NOT jealous.”
“Are too. It’s written all over your face. Come on, do you really think I’d run off with some vixen and leave you to the X-Files all by yourself?”
She was silent. “You have every right to have a family. I—“
He pressed his lips against hers. Before she had time to respond, he pulled away. “I would rather spend my time with you than with someone I'm biologically supposed to want.”
Her blue eyes shifted, still looking wary. He wanted to kiss the doubt right out of her, but she held him off with her paw on his nose. Her claws were not out, though. “You’re a good man, Mulder. But—this can’t work. We’re too different, don’t you think?”
“No, not really. So what if we’re not even the same species? I still—“ he swallowed. “I still trust you more than anyone.”
If there was ever a love confession without spouting the “L” word, this was it. She let him grasp her wrist and take her paw away from his face. He leaned in and nuzzled her forehead, breathing in her scent of milk and honey.
“I love you too, Mulder,” she whispered, barely noticing how their tails had intertwined.