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Scully’s stomach grumbles in joyful anticipation as she loads her plate with bread rolls, meatballs, and pasta salad. Who knew the FBI could offer a decent buffet? She makes a mental note to let Mulder know about it later. She licks her lips, ready to find a quiet place to dig in, when she’s stopped by another agent she’s seen around the Hoover building a few times.
“That’s a lot of food for such a tiny lady as yourself,” he says with a slimy grin. “Or are you sharing with Spooky?”
“Agent Mulder isn’t here tonight,” she says and regrets it right away when he sees the guy’s eyes light up.
“That’s why it’s been so quiet. He always interrupts these meetings, doesn’t he?” Scully just glares at him, refusing to participate in the slander against Mulder. Truth is she misses him, just like she knew she would. But A.D. Kersh assigned them different time slots for the annual safety meeting, claiming to want an agent on call just in case. They both knew it was a bogus reason. He just wanted to separate them once more. Now here she is, all by herself, fighting off Agent Douchebag.
“I’m Clay,” he says, offering her his hand. She takes it to be polite, balancing her plate on her other hand. “Clay Matthews. Irish family, you know.” He waggles his eyebrows at her.
“Dana Scully,” she says and he nods.
“I know you.” A cold shiver runs down her back hearing his words.
“Everyone knows you and your spooky partner,” he explains, still grinning.
“Ah,” she says. “Um, Clay, I’d-”
“Want to join me?” He interrupts her. “I’ve been meaning to ask you out for ages. Just never knew how to get in there,” he says with a wink, making her feel sick. “With Spooky hanging around and all. So, what do you say? We can have a bite here and then again on Friday. You free on Friday?” Scully’s head is spinning from all he's saying.
“I don’t know, Agent Matthews, I-”
“Call me Clay,” he cuts her off again. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”
“I don’t know you,” Scully says, annoyance slipping into her voice. “And I’m not free on Friday,” she adds. A few people have turned to look at them, some very obviously watching them. A meatball rolls off her plate and Agent Matthews gets down on one knee to pick it up. He stares up at her, grinning. Slowly, without taking his eyes off her, he puts the meatball into his mouth, chewing it loudly. The sight makes her stomach turn.
“Now come on, Dana. Don’t make me beg.”
“Get up, Agent Matthews,” she says coolly. He doesn’t move. “I don’t know you and quite frankly, I don’t care to get to know you.”
“That was harsh,” the other agent says, getting up. He’s invading her personal space and Scully takes a step back, not wanting him anywhere near her.
“Would you please leave me alone now,” she says with a steady, unblinking gaze.
“Cold as ice,” Agent Matthews says, his face close to hers. “You’re as cold as fucking ice.” With that, he finally leaves her be. Scully stands there for a moment with her full plate, willing herself to stay calm and take a few deep breaths. Her appetite is gone. She watches Agent Matthews talk to a few other agents and decides to ignore him and everyone else, too. She finds a table away from the bigger groups and checks her phone while she listlessly attacks her food.
‘If you’re bored just think of your equally bored partner in the bullpen. Fuck safety meetings’. She smiles at her phone, thankful that Mulder is still with her in spirit.
Somehow, she makes it through. Every once in a while, she catches Agent Matthews staring at her. He’s not one to give up easily. When they’re done, she packs her things, wanting to see if Mulder is still at his desk. It’s late by now, but she knows him. So wrapped up in her thoughts, she doesn’t notice that someone is following her until Agent Matthews catches up with her.
“Hello again,” he says.
“Agent Matthews,” Scully replies, trying to be civil. She picks up her step, but the man is tall with long legs and matches her stride easily.
“I was just going to check again,” he says, his voice still nice enough, but Scully can hear an edge to it. She walks faster still. “Are you sure you’re not free on Friday?”
“I’m sure. I have plans.”
“You do, huh? With Spooky, I bet. But has he ever taken you to dinner, hm? Look, we got off on the wrong foot, I get that. Never ask a hungry woman for her opinion, am I right?” He laughs at his own joke.
“Right,” Scully mumbles.
“Don’t be so cold,” Agent Matthews says. “I know they call you the Ice Queen, but I figured that’s because you work in the morgue. It’s cold down there. Can’t believe a woman with hair as red as fire could be cold.” Scully’s heart is pounding. She should have stayed with the other agents, not go wander off to where she's all alone. Everyone has already left for the day.
“Agent Matthews, I’m asking you to please leave me alone.”
“I will,” he says, folding his hands into a praying pose. “As soon as you say yes to dinner with me on Friday.”
“Why do you keep asking me?” She asks, anger pushing her fear aside. “You keep bringing it up even though I’ve said no several times. Again and again. Why is that? I will tell you once more time, Agent Matthews: no. I will not go out with you. If you keep bothering me, I will report you.” Her hands ball up into fists, ready to show him if her words don't penetrate his thick skull.
“And who would believe you?” He asks with a lazy laugh.
“I will.” Mulder has his arms crossed in front of him, watching them with hawk’s eyes. He throws her a look that seems to ask her if she’s okay. She gives him a small nod and a soft smile.
“Of course, you’re still here,” Agent Matthews spits out. “You don’t have a life, do you?” Mulder just shrugs, seemingly unbothered. But Scully knows him. She sees the tension coil in him. One wrong move on Agent Matthews's part and Mulder will tackle him to the ground. As much as she would like to see it, and as much as Agent Douchebag deserves it, she doesn’t want Mulder to get into trouble.
“Now if you’d excuse me, Agents Matthews,” Scully says to him, managing a polite smile, despite wanting to clock him herself. “I have plans.”
“Spooky to the rescue, huh?”
“Oh, Agent Scully doesn’t need my help,” Mulder says. “I’m just making sure she doesn’t give you a black eye. I’ve seen her do it – and worse. If you know what I mean.” For emphasis, Mulder gestures towards Agent Matthews's groin area. The other agent seethes and gives them a dirty look before he stalks off.
“Cold as fucking ice,” he says again, turning around to them. “Don’t get frostbite, Spooky.” As soon as he’s out of their vision, Scully tumbles backward and leans against the wall, breathing heavily.
“Hey, you’re okay?” Mulder’s smugness is gone just as quickly. His hands cup her cheeks, turning her face this way and that as if looking for bruises.
“I’m okay,” she says.
“Did he hurt you? Did he touch you in any way?”
“He didn’t,” Scully assures him.
“Should have punched his lights out,” Mulder mumbles.
“I wanted to,” Scully says, one corner of her mouth twitching upwards. "I probably would have if you hadn't shown up when you did."
“How often does this happen?” He asks her, turning serious again.
“Not often,” she says and Mulder’s expression is so full of skepticism that she can't help but smile. “I promise. It’s happened a few times, but not that often and not… like this.”
“You could have taken him down, Scully.”
“Maybe,” she says. “But I’m glad you were here.”
“So am I,” he says, leaning into her space. To let him know she wants him there, she leans closer, too, taking his hand into hers. His skin is warm and familiar; she knows every bump and line on his hand. There's a small, healing cut on his thumb and she lets her own glide over it gently. A paper cut. But she hadn't seen it before now. She briefly considers kissing it better, but this is neither the right place nor the right time.
“I was going to come find you,” she says quietly as if even the walls shouldn’t be hearing this. “Matthews spoiled the buffet for me, so I was wondering if you wanted to grab something to eat?” Mulder beams at her and the delight on his face makes her forget all about Agent Matthews and the awful evening.
“I’d love to.” His hand finds its spot on the small of her back as they make their way outside, his eyes finding hers to ask her for permission. It's granted with a soft smile.
“Hey, Scully?”
“Hm?”
“If Agent Matthews or any other guy ever-”
“It’s okay, Mulder.”
He shakes his head, tapping her waist with his hand. “If it happens again, just clock him. I will stand by and tell everyone that he deserved it. Deal?”
“Deal.”