Work Text:
Scully had just lit her second cigarette of the evening when the spooky kid appeared.
Okay, it was her fourth cigarette. She wasn't a chain smoker, but parties stressed her out enough that she could smoke through a pack in an hour. It didn't help that she was a freshman, and everyone else around her was graduating, or had already graduated. She was only there for Bill, honestly.
God, she hated parties.
Anyway. The spooky kid. He popped up beside her silently, dressed all in black aside from a bright green alien head in the middle of his t-shirt. Damn, that was an unreasonably tight t-shirt. She could see the faint pattern of tattoos decorating both his arms, but it was hard to see them in the low light.
She ignored him, aside from a quick once-over when he took his place next to her. He was lounging against the wall next to the open doorway just like she was. They were both outsiders to the party, one and the same, even if he was half a foot taller than her.
"They're bad for you, y'know."
She jumped so violently at his deep voice, suddenly right next to her, that she dropped her cigarette. She whirled around to yell at him, but she found herself face to face - or chest to face, because he was damn tall - with maybe the cutest boy she'd ever seen in her life.
It really was dark as hell in the dance hall, but she could just make out his features from the moonlight that was bleeding through the open door. He was gorgeous. It was tough for a male college kid to look hot, but he managed it without even trying.
"You made me drop my cigarette," she complained as she dug in her pocket for the pack.
She brought a fresh cigarette to her lips and had reached halfway for a lighter when the spooky kid held one up.
"Allow me," he murmured, his voice somehow breaking through the thumping music.
After snorting at his choice of words, she dipped her head forward and lowered the end of her cigarette into the flame. She held his gaze until he pulled the lighter away, then she settled back against the wall.
She took a long drag and exhaled, her chest warm again.
"You don't seem like a smoker."
"Don't I?"
She had worn the most aggressive clothes she owned to the party, so that people wouldn't try and talk to her. Apparently that had been a waste of time. Still, she looked great, from her combat boots, knee-highs and tight mini skirt to her crop top and the messy bun in her hair.
Hell, she looked hot. She fixed the spooky kid with a glare, her eyebrow raised as she gestured at her outfit.
"Okay, you do look like a smoker."
Scully hummed, sucking in another drag, "Don't know if I should be offended or not, Spooky."
"Spooky?"
"Don't know your name," she shrugged, "You've got an alien on your shirt and you don't know how to introduce yourself. So, Spooky."
He let out a breathy laugh and smiled at his shoes. She gazed up at him, entirely taken in by his face, which was speckled with the disco lights.
"You're staring at me."
She shrugged again, distracting herself with another puff of the cigarette. She was going to need a new one before long, if he kept talking to her.
"I'm Fox Mulder."
He actually held out his hand, bless him. Who the hell was he, shaking hands with someone he met at a college party? She shook his hand, anyway.
"Dana Scully. Nice to meet you, Fox."
He squeezed her hand. Scully noticed that they weren't even shaking hands anymore, just holding hands. Seriously, who the hell was this kid?
"Just Mulder," he mumbled, "No one calls me Fox. Not even my parents. It's a stupid name. Dana is a normal name. You're lucky."
Scully wet her lips and took another drag, sucking the very last out of the cigarette before she crushed it beneath her shoe. She leant into Mulder, pulling his hand in close to her hip until his knuckles grazed her bare skin. His lips actually drifted apart in surprise.
She brought her mouth close to his ear - as close as she could, anyway - and whispered, "Call me Scully."
He laughed and drew back before she did, even though his hand stayed on her hip.
"I was expecting some grand revelation," Mulder chuckled, "You're full of mysteries, Scully."
Her name sounded good on his tongue. She wondered if his tongue tasted as delicious as his voice. God, she needed another cigarette. Or some Xanax.
"Yeah? What mysteries are those?"
His fingers danced along her skin, skating down the line of her bared hip, and she chewed on the inside of her cheek.
"You haven't told me a single thing about yourself."
"I told you my name. That's a single thing."
"I could've found out who you were from your reputation alone, Ms. Scully."
She snorted and grabbed his free hand, placing it on her other hip. He shifted until he was facing her, and she looped her arms around his neck. For some strange reason, it felt comfortable to be leaning against him, swaying slightly to the music.
"My reputation?"
Mulder nodded, "You're a rebel."
"Damn straight."
He laughed, his grin wide and toothy. She wanted to tape that laugh and play it on repeat forever.
"You came here with the best SAT scores since, well, me," Mulder continued, and Scully snorted. At least he wasn't shy about his achievements, "And you've been whiling away your time smoking and hooking up with the most irresponsible men--"
"And women."
Mulder smiled, "And women. Yet you've still aced every exam, and come out top of your class in your finals, with good enough grades to get into medical school. Rumour has it, you're set to be the next Elizabeth Blackwell."
Scully nodded slowly and pursed her lips, "That's my reputation?"
"Yep."
"It's pretty damn accurate."
They held gazes for a moment, then Scully smiled and looked down at her feet. She pressed her forehead against his chest. She felt his left hand leave her hip and come up to stroke her hair, and she hummed and pulled her hips flush against his. If he were anyone else, and half as cute, she would've dragged him back to her dorm by now. But he was so damn nice. And he smelled great.
Either she was high on all the pot the guys in the dance hall were smoking, or she was actually enjoying herself.
"Dana!"
She lifted her head away from Mulder's chest at the sound of her brother's voice. He was staggering towards them, apparently drunk off his ass. Mulder's hands immediately split from her body when he noticed Bill approaching, and he took a step away from her. She stumbled slightly, and righted herself just as Bill reached them.
"Oh, great, you've met already!" Bill yelled, far too loudly, "I was gonna introduce you two! How you doing, Spooky?!"
Mulder stiffened at the nickname. Was the word 'spooky' applicable to Mulder on a cross-year basis? Did even the seniors call Mulder 'spooky'?
"I'm just fine, Bill," Mulder said in a flat voice. Scully stared between Mulder and her brother, wondering if they were mortal enemies or if Bill was just too drunk to play nice.
"Why you celebrating graduation with my sister, eh, Spooky?" Bill leant forward and tapped the mouth of his bottle against Mulder's shoulder, spilling a little beer on his alien shirt. Scully wanted to hit him for that.
But, was Mulder a senior like Bill? It sounded like it. The man beside her didn't seem like he was twenty four years old. Not at all.
"Mulder," Mulder corrected, frowning, "We were just talking."
"Yeah, well, you know my sister," Bill grumbled as he stumbled away, "She'll talk to anybody, even the losers!"
Scully covered her face with her hands and groaned, her pleasant buzz draining away, "God, I'm sorry. Bill is such a dick when he's drunk."
"Just when he's drunk?"
She rammed her shoulder into Mulder's for that, and dropped her hands, "Hey, that's my brother you're shitting on."
"I believe you started the shitting, Scully."
"Ah, semantics," she waved her hand and reached into her pocket for the pack of cigarettes, "Want one?"
She pulled one out and slipped it between her teeth. She held the box out to Mulder, who glanced between her and it for a few seconds. Then, he leant forward and plucked the cigarette from her mouth, slipping it into the back pocket of his jeans.
"Hey--"
Her words were stopped short when Mulder removed his hand from his pocket and held up a ziploc bag filled with...
"Pot?"
Mulder nodded, "Yep. Best in town. Been saving it for a special occasion. Wanna go light this up somewhere nice?"
Scully shrugged, "I've never smoked pot before."
His eyes lit up, "Oh, Scully. I don't believe you."
"I'm not a total rebel," she scuffed the toe of her boot against the floor and led the way outside. She skipped up the alley and paused in the entry, her hands on her bare hips, watching as Mulder ducked through the door with the Maryland Graduates '83 banner above it, "I'm a good girl. I put my hair in pigtails on Friday nights. I read Sweet Valley High for fun."
Mulder laughed and tugged her into a short, tight hug, "I want to believe that, Scully. C'mon, let's go get stoned in the park."
"You're a dreadful role model," she said when he pulled away from her.
"Who says I have to be a role model?"
"You're a senior, you just graduated with Bill, or you wouldn't be at this party," Scully mumbled, changing positions until she was walking side by side with Mulder, her arm around his waist, his arm slipping across her shoulders. Hell, they fit together perfectly, "You're meant to be setting the good little freshman an example, not getting her stoned."
"While I appreciate your impressive analysis, Scully, I'm not a senior, actually."
She glanced up at him, "Oh?"
Mulder seemed to fight with himself for a moment, and he scrunched his features up. Even that looked adorable on his stupid face, "I just finished my first year postgraduate."
"Aw, hell!" Scully laughed, jabbing him in the side, "You're old!"
"I'm only twenty five!" he groaned as they turned into a quieter street, the darkened park fence looming from the shadows beyond the lamplight, "You're just young."
"I'm twenty one," she argued, breaking away from him and grabbing onto the poles of the fence, "I'm a grownup."
"You wish. Are those actual Dr Martens you're wearing?"
She stuck her tongue out at him and grappled with the fence for a few moments. Her boots - yes, they were actual Dr Martens, but she wasn't about to give Mulder the satisfaction of being correct - weren't grabbing onto the posts and she kept sliding back down the metal. The damn mini skirt wasn't helping matters, either.
"Want a hand, short stuff?"
Scully snorted and dropped down to the ground, "Short stuff?"
Mulder grinned and knelt in front of the fence, patting his shoulders , "C'mon, hop on."
"I'm wearing a tight skirt," Scully complained, "The laws of physics will not permit this manoeuvre," she remembered that she had yet to ask Mulder what his degree was, "Hey, what are you studying?"
"Psychology," Mulder replied, "Come on, I'm getting sore knees. Just take your skirt off if it makes it easier. I won't look."
"That's what all the boys say."
"Okay, I'll look a little. But I won't make any lewd comments."
"None?"
"Maybe a few."
"Ah, of course," Scully nodded and unzipped her skirt, looking around to see if anyone was watching. The street was deserted, although the music from the dance hall was throbbing in the distance.
Mulder was just knelt there, silently, his eyes averted. She could see his tattoo sleeves now. His arms were dotted with sketchy stars and constellations. There were intricate swirling tree designs mingled amongst the stars on his very upper arms, and she noticed a few alien heads and UFOs littered in the mini galaxy that belonged to Fox Mulder.
She tore her gaze away from Mulder's arms, stepped out of her skirt and threw it over the fence. It snagged on a tree on the other side.
"Aw, hell."
Mulder looked up and snorted, "There's all that open space, and you managed to get your skirt stuck in a fucking tree?"
"Don't you make fun of me, Mulder. You're the one kneeling on the sidewalk."
Mulder looked at her then, grinning, and his gaze instantly dropped to her pelvis. The smile slid off his face and his lips parted. She rolled her eyes at his reaction and wiggled her hips, sliding her thumbs beneath the material of her panties and snapping it against her skin. Damn, she was glad she'd worn a nice pair.
"Not bad," Mulder nodded, a smile creeping back onto his lips as he looked up at her, "You'd make a good stripper."
"I expect dollars bills in my panties before the night is over."
"Yes, ma'am!" Mulder saluted and laughed. God, he was pretty. She didn't think she'd ever get used to it.
Scully apologised for her boots, then stepped onto Mulder's shoulders. She grabbed the poles of the fence and walked her hands up them as Mulder rose to his feet, quivering.
"You alright down there?"
He nodded, tilting his head back just far enough so Scully could see his smiling mouth, "You hardly weigh anything. I've lifted dogs heavier than you."
"Good comparison."
"Mmhm."
Once she was high enough up the fence, she clambered over until she was straddling the cold metal. She kicked her feet back and forth for a moment, watching as Mulder rubbed his shoulders.
"You coming up, or what?" she teased. She slowly rose up until she was stood on the fence, one foot in front of the other. The fence shivered beneath her as Mulder climbed up it - he was damn strong, lucky bastard - and she held her arms out to the sides for balance.
She walked to the end of the fence, then back, watching as Mulder shakily stood up, mimicking her, his eyes wide.
"Relax, Mulder."
"I plan to," he mumbled, "But my idea of relaxing involves marijuana, not tightrope walking."
"Boo," Scully jeered, "That's boring. C'mon, let's jump."
She took Mulder's hand in hers, and on the count of three they leapt off the fence, plummeting to the grass on the park side. She landed with a thump, but held her balance a little more steadily than Mulder, who stumbled and would've tripped if Scully hadn't been holding his hand. He was clumsier than a baby deer.
She walked over to the tree she had thrown her skirt into, Mulder just behind her. Her skirt was stuck halfway up in the thicket of branches, and she didn't fancy her chances at getting it down. The night wasn't cold by any means, and the air was quite humid. She could wander around a park in panties and a crop top, couldn't she?
"Will you judge me if I forgo the skirt?" she asked Mulder, who was now staring up into the tree like she was.
"Nah."
Scully nodded to herself and dragged her gaze away from the stranded skirt, "Alright, where are we going?"
Mulder smiled, "There's an orchard up the hill. There's a tree big enough to sleep in."
She waggled her eyebrows at him, "Is that a promise?"
He rolled his eyes and grabbed her hand again, "Come on, Scully. Let's go exploring."
The moon was bright that evening, and now they were away from the streetlamps she could see the white glow of the moon illuminating everything. Mulder was swinging their joined hands back and forth as they walked, their comfortable silence broken only by the rustle of the grass beneath their feet and the distant sounds of the party.
It occurred to her that she'd only know this guy for twenty minutes or so, but she was currently walking through a dark park with him, half-naked, with a bag full of pot. She had plenty reason to be worried.
But, for some reason, she trusted him. Implicitly.
"You bring many girls here, Mulder?" she asked as they crossed the treeline. She could see the giant tree Mulder had talked about. It wasn't far into the orchard.
"None."
"Boys?"
Mulder smiled, "A guy called Alex, once."
Scully copied Mulder's grin and nudged him with her shoulder, "Ahh, the plot thickens!"
"It was a one-time thing."
"An experiment?"
Mulder snorted, "No, I'm as bi as you are. I just prefer women, I guess."
Scully sighed melodramatically and nodded, "Me too."
They laughed in unison, then stepped through into a small clearing. The moonlight was shining through a gap in the trees, illuminating the clearing and the circle of trees around them.
"This is magical," Scully murmured as she turned on the spot, gazing at all the old knotted trees, "You sure you don't bring girls here?"
"Only you, Scully."
She grinned at him. He smiled lazily at her and headed over to the tree at the head of the clearing. There was a seemingly natural cavern right in the base of the tree, a deep hole big enough for two or three people sitting or lying down. Mulder ducked into it and settled against one of the sides, kicking his feet out. Scully sat against the back of the tree, resting her legs over Mulder's.
"My ass is gonna be sore in a bit," she complained, already feeling the prick of the leaves and earth beneath her on her bare skin. She crossed her legs beneath her, sitting on her feet instead of the ground.
"That's no problem, I've got blankets in here."
Scully raised an eyebrow, "What?"
"And a torch. And some food. Maybe a couple of drinks if we're lucky," Mulder rattled off items as he reached above him. Scully heard a thud and a scraping sound, and Mulder pulled a cardboard box down from the dark depths of the tree.
"Alright, where the hell did that come from?"
Mulder grinned, "There's a ledge up there. It's like this tree was made to be lived in."
"Oh, God, Mulder, you don't live here, do you?"
He laughed and removed the lid of the box, revealing all the items he'd listed, "Of course I don't live here. I just like to come here. It's a good place to work. No one comes in this part of the park, so it's private as anything."
"Why do people not come here? It's beautiful."
"It's haunted," Mulder said, absolutely matter-of-fact as he pulled a thick, woollen blanket from the box and handed it to Scully. He also produced a flashlight and a string of battery-operated fairy lights.
"Haunted?" she pulled the blanket under herself, watching as Mulder stuck up the fairy lights with little white hooks that he pressed into the wood with his thumb, "Is this tree haunted?"
"Probably, but it's okay," he clicked on the lights, and the tree was filled with a gentle yellow light, "The ghosts are no doubt used to me by now."
He settled back down, and Scully shuffled closer to him, resting her legs across his calves. If he minded, he didn't say anything. She almost wanted to laugh. Haunted? A haunted tree? Ghosts?
God, he really was spooky. At least the alien t-shirt made sense now.
She noticed now that there were pictures pinned up on the wall behind Mulder's head. There were a few of Mulder with two people she assumed were his parents. Another of a much younger Mulder, with a girl even younger than him. Beneath those two pictures, there was a photograph of a man around Scully's age, with shortly cropped black hair, who was staring at the camera, looking as if he was trying not to laugh. The rest of the wall - could it even be called that? They were in a tree, after all - was littered with photographs of UFO sightings and newspaper clippings.
"Is that Alex?" she asked, pointing at the picture of the man.
Mulder looked behind himself and smiled, his cheeks going a little pink as he turned his attention back to the box, "Yeah, that's Alex. He got his hair cut the day I took that picture," he shook his head, smiling a little wider, "That stupid hair."
Scully couldn't help but mimic Mulder's smile, and she ran her hand down his thigh, trailing her fingers over his knee. She drummed the pads of her fingers on his kneecap, noting that his jeans were almost worn through, "Tell me about him."
Mulder shrugged. He pulled a couple of cans of Diet Coke out of the box and handed one to Scully. She cracked it open and swallowed a mouthful of the - surprisingly - cold liquid.
"There's not much to tell. He was my boyfriend for a while. That's it, really."
"There's always more than that."
Mulder gulped down a mouthful of Coke and grimaced, "Why don't you tell me something about your forays into the gay world?"
"Hey, if your speech in the club was anything to go on, you know my entire dating history."
"I don't get the gritty details from the grapevine, Scully," he swallowed another mouthful, smiling around the edge of the can, "Come on, make my night with some smutty girl-on-girl tales."
"I don't have any smutty girl-on-girl tales," she couldn't hold back the telltale grin that accompanied a lie, and Mulder picked up on it.
"You're a damn liar, Scully. Shame on you!"
They laughed together for a few moments, snorting into their respective cans of Coke. Scully shook her drink a little, listening to it fizz, and she leant her head back against the wall.
"Who was your last girlfriend?"
Scully laughed, "I don't have girlfriends. I have boyfriends, sure, but me and the girls don't jibe too well in a relationship," she sighed and leaned forward to pull at a loose thread in her knee-highs, "There was this one girl, a few months back. She was called Monica. God, she was like a hurricane."
"Impressive, but short-lived and generally unpleasant?"
Scully snorted and nodded, "Don't tell her I agreed with you. She'd beat both of us to a pulp."
"Do I know her?"
"Monica Reyes," Scully elaborated. She drank some more Coke and crossed her ankles, "She's studying Religious Studies, so I don't know why you would, but she's in your year."
"The name rings a bell," Mulder folded his arms over his chest and tilted his head to the side, his eyes narrowed, "Locker 44 in the Hoover building, right? She's about three inches taller than you, black hair. Wears red a lot."
"How did you know all that?"
He tapped his fingers against the side of his head, "Photographic memory."
"No, really."
Mulder laughed, "I do have a photographic memory, you skeptical squareheart, but I know Reyes because her locker is next to mine."
"You almost had me fooled! Damn, I thought you were like, a mind-reader or something," she kicked her feet away from the ground and pulled her legs back, tucking them beneath herself, "And who the hell are you calling a squareheart? It was your idea to come out here and smoke a joint."
"You're the chain-smoker, not me," Mulder pulled the ziploc bag out of his pocket and tossed it from hand to hand for a moment, "I'm a social smoker."
"Social smokers don't come out to a haunted forest to smoke pot with one person, Mulder."
"I do."
Scully resisted snapping an answer, and settled for watching Mulder roll the joint. Whatever he said, he smoked for more than just social reasons. He had enough paper in the box to last a year, and he rolled like he did it every day. She could smell the sickly sweaty smell of the weed from a foot away, and she wrinkled her nose.
"That stinks something awful," she complained, shaking her head, "You actually enjoy smoking this stuff?"
"Of course I don't," Mulder replied, smiling to himself, "Everyone hates the taste of beer, but we all drink it to get drunk. It's gross, but it serves a purpose. Similarly, the smell of pot is nauseating, but we all smoke it to get high."
"Serves a purpose."
"That's right," he twisted off the spliff and handed it to her, reaching into his pocket for a lighter.
"You make drugs seem real romantic, Mulder," she mumbled around the joint as he lit it for her. She was used to straight, uniform cigarettes, and the shape of the joint felt strange in her mouth. She inhaled like she would with a normal cigarette, and the sour smoke startled her. God, it tasted... she couldn't even describe it. It was bitter and sweet, all at once.
Once she had taken a few drags, she handed the joint to Mulder. He sucked at it casually, hardly breathing out any of the smoke. She supposed that he had built up a resistance to it, and needed more in his system than Scully would.
They passed the joint back and forth for a few minutes until it was depleted, and Mulder had to roll another. Scully could feel a strange, hot pressure building in the pit of her stomach. The lights above her were dancing and pulsing, the glow bouncing off the walls. The tree walls.
Why were they in a tree?
"Hey, Mulder, why are we in a tree?" the words came out funny, all distorted and slow. She felt almost drunk, but not quite. Like she was three bottles in, but was feeling the effects of twelve.
"Yeah, we're in a tree," Mulder's voice echoed around her skull, answering a question she hadn't asked. His voice was so deep, "Are you feeling alright, Scully?"
She moved her head so she could look at him, but she moved too far too fast, and her head lolled against her shoulder. She snorted and took the joint from Mulder, sucking in another lungful, "I'm fine. Are you fine? I'm fine," she coughed a little around the smoke, and pulled herself up onto her knees.
The world pulsed in time with her heartbeat when she moved, and she straddled Mulder's thighs, sitting back heavily with his knees digging into her ass. Mulder smiled at her, his expression a little slack. He looked exhausted, but his eyes were bright.
"Your face is so cool," she mumbled, bringing her hands up to drag her fingers down Mulder's cheeks. His skin was soft, and her fingertips tingled like there was lightning sparking up under her flesh, "Whoa, this feels weird. Mulder, Mulder, touch my face. It's so weird!"
She grabbed his hands and pulled them up to her face, forcing him to touch her cheeks. Her own skin tickled with the sensation and she giggled, returning her hands to Mulder's face. Mulder ran his thumbs across her eyelids - man, that felt so weird - and down, down, down, until he was stroking her lips. She opened her mouth and wrapped her lips around his thumb, dragging her tongue up the underside of it. He tasted like salt and tree bark.
She sucked on his thumb for a few moments, relishing in the taste of it, just staring at Mulder's dark eyes as she did so.
"You're so weird, Scully," Mulder's voice boomed in her ears, and she sucked more of his thumb into her mouth. His knuckle bumped against her teeth and she smiled as best she could.
Mulder laughed and leant forward. His face was like the moon, it was so close and so big, and she was surprised when he kissed the end of her nose. She laughed around his thumb, then pushed it out of her mouth with her tongue, feeling the saliva gather on the edge of her lip. His lidded eyes glanced down at her lips for a moment, then he fruitlessly tried to wipe the saliva away with his damp thumb.
She wanted to kiss him. She didn't know why.
She pushed forward and pressed her wet lips against his. His beautiful eyes closed in surprise and she laughed against his mouth, before licking his lips apart. She usually hated kissing, but everything felt so gloopy and buzzed, and she felt so happy.
Once Mulder opened his mouth and let her kiss him properly, she lifted her body up and dropped herself back down on his crotch, so she could lean against him. He mumbled something against her mouth but she just wanted to kiss him more, didn't want to stop. Her hands were on either side of his face, and she moved them down so she could shuck up his stupid alien shirt and hold onto his bare waist.
He said her name, whispering it against her lips. His eyes were still closed and he was running his hands up and down Scully's back and over her ass. Everything tickled more than it did normally, and she couldn't help but laugh. He broke away from her mouth and pressed his lips against her windpipe.
"Scully-yyyy," he dragged out her name as he kissed her skin. Her entire body suddenly tensed with a shiver, her gut clenched, and she laughed into Mulder's hair. His hair was unreasonably soft against her mouth.
She couldn't stop laughing, even when his hands moved around from her back and slid up under her crop top, his fingertips toying with the edge of her bra. She still couldn't stop laughing, even when his hips bucked up lazily into hers.
"Mulder, stop groping me!" she giggled, pressing her hips into his when he cupped her breasts. Oh, God, Mulder was touching her boobs. Why was that so funny? "Mulder, you're an idiot. This is weird."
"It's fun," he mumbled against the column of her neck, his tongue dipping into her clavicle and licking a stripe straight up the column of her neck. Holy hell, that was wet and warm and ten kinds of strange, and she almost agreed with him.
"Yeah, it's fun, but I don't wanna have sex right now," she complained, moving her hands up to tangle her fingers in Mulder's soft, messy hair, "Maybe later. I'm too happy for sex."
"Sex is happy."
"Later."
He nodded against her neck and removed his hands from her crop top, leaving them on her waist. She mumbled her thanks into his hair and sat back in her previous position in the middle of his thighs. She lay down, settling so that her back curved comfortably against Mulder's knees. The lights above her were still dancing.
"They're like UFOs," she pointed up at the lights, and her finger was so close to them that she felt like she was reaching into the stars, "Tiny UFOs," Mulder was quiet, and she sat up again, jabbing him on the chest, "Mulder!"
He opened his eyes. Had he fallen asleep?
"Wha-? Wha' happened?"
"You fell asleep and missed the UFOs," Scully grumbled. She pressed her head against Mulder's shoulder and wrapped her arms around his torso. Oh, that felt nice.
"UFOs?"
She tilted her head up, and her hair fell in front of her eyes, "Just like the ones in your pictures."
Mulder let out a soft sound like a hurt animal, and he began to cry, silent tears flooding down his cheeks. What? Why was he crying? She lifted her head off his chest and stared at him, "Mulder?"
He sniffed and let out a barely restrained sob, "I missed the UFOs. I've always wanted to see a UFO. And aliens. Oh, I missed the aliens, didn't I? I missed the fucking aliens."
"Why did you want to see an alien?"
"I don't know if I should tell you," he was sobbing now, although he wasn't making a sound, just shaking with silent emotion. He pulled his hands away from Scully's waist and covered his face with his hands, hiding the gross, snotty mess he had become. Scully didn't know what to do, so she just reached up and touched his hair, patting his head gently.
"Tell me," she insisted, smoothing his hair down with her hands.
His head snapped up, his reddened eyes wild, and he leant in close to Scully, talking in a stage-whisper, "The aliens might be listening, Scully."
She snorted, "Mulder, aliens aren't real."
"You saw them!"
"No, I saw a UFO. Many small UFOs," she wiped his cheeks clean of tears and pressed her forehead against his, half-convinced for a moment that she had seen some unidentified flying objects, "No aliens. Little green men don't exist, anyway."
"They're grey."
Mulder sounded so sure of himself that for a moment Scully almost believed him. Then she laughed and raked her hands down the front of his t-shirt, over the alien emblem, which was now all bunched-up and funny looking after she had toyed with it. It looked almost warped in the low light.
"The one on your t-shirt is green."
He stared down at his chest like he had never seen his clothes before, and his mouth fell open.
"Oh my god, Scully," he whispered, his eyes wide, "Don't look now, but there is an alien on my t-shirt."
"It's just a t-shirt, Mulder."
"Look at it, Scully. Look at it! It's totally an alien!"
"It's a t-shirt."
"No, Scully. Scully. Scully," he whispered her name fervently, like a prayer, and she wanted to laugh again, "Scully, the aliens listen to us. All the time. They're spying on us. It's a conspiracy."
"It's still just a t-shirt, Mulder. And aliens aren't real."
"If aliens aren't real then why is there one on my t-shirt, spying on us?"
She opened her mouth to reply, and closed it again. She didn't have an answer. She knew it was just a printed t-shirt, but Mulder was glancing down at his clothing with dread in his eyes, and it was adorable.
"Hey, Mulder, take your t-shirt off," she suggested, trying to stop the laughter that was bubbling happily in her chest. She hadn't felt so happy in months, "Then the aliens can't listen in on our conversations, yeah?"
He nodded his head up and down, and he left a milky trail behind him. She helped him pull the t-shirt over his head, throwing the grass-scented material to one side once he was free of it. It hit the wall of the tree with a dull, flapping sound that echoed in her skull. Mulder seemed a little happier once he was free of the shirt, and he slumped back against the wall.
"I think Skinner is an alien."
She snorted out laughter at that, and moved so she could press her face into his shoulder again. God, she really loved doing that. It was even better now she could feel his hot skin right up against her cheek.
"Who's Skinner?"
"The vice-chancellor. Don't you think he looks like an alien? Acts like one?" Mulder's hands were on Scully's lower back now, tracing random patterns on her skin, sending shivers up her spine, "He's definitely not entirely human. What d'you think?"
"I think you're high and irrational, Mulder."
"I'm not irrational."
"But you are high. Aren't you?"
"As a kite, Scully," he patted his hand against her lower back and she exhaled slowly, "I can see the UFOs now. In the roof. They're beautiful."
She hummed and wrapped her arms around Mulder's neck, turning her face into the dip between his shoulder and the side of his neck. She could hear something moving outside the tree, an animal rustling in the underbrush, and she suddenly felt very tired.
"I'm tired, Mulder."
"Me too," he whispered from above her. She could hear his breathing slowing down, and after a little persuasion she got him to lie down on the floor with a blanket beneath him so he wouldn't strain his neck if he fell asleep.
"We should go indoors somewhere," she mumbled as she laid down beside him on the blanket, turning her body into his for a moment, "We might get cold."
"There's lots of blankets."
"Mm, okay," Scully nodded and rolled onto her back, trying to get comfortable. The lights had stopped dancing now, but there was a watery glow around everything, and every word out of her mouth dragged on for too long.
She felt Mulder move beside her, and she closed her eyes. A hand skated across her stomach, surprisingly hot against her skin, and she felt lips near her navel.
She said his name - sighed it, really - and he slumped against her belly.
"Mulder?"
There was no response. She lifted her head up, and saw that he was lying in a mockery of the foetal position with his head and one arm on her stomach. She laughed, watching his head rise and fall with the noise, and giggled to herself until sleep overcame her.
-
Scully woke up with a sickly sweetness in the back of her throat, with a boy lying on her stomach, snoring. After a few seconds of staring around the weird room they were in, the events of the previous night came back to her.
"Holy shit," she whispered to herself, letting her head fall back against the ground.
She was in a tree with Mulder. She could smell sweat and sugar on the air, mingling deliciously with the scents of the forest around them. He was still asleep, snoring away, a blissful expression on his face.
She sat up on her elbows and poked him in the shoulder, her muscles aching with the movement, "Hey, Mulder. Mulder. Mulder."
He woke with a start and lifted his head straight up, leaving a gross sticky trail of drool. He stammered an apology and wiped it away, his eyes still half-closed. Scully laughed and rubbed her eyes with her knuckles, waiting for him to wake up all the way.
"It's Scully, right?"
She kicked her knee into his side and sat up, "Shut up, Mulder."
"Sorry," he rubbed his eyes too, then released an almighty yawn. Simultaneously, they both realised their states of undress, and held a short, embarrassed gaze.
"We didn't--"
"No, of course not."
"I mean, we'd only just met--"
"And we're in a tree."
She snorted and crossed her legs beneath her, "It didn't stop you and Alex!"
Mulder rolled his eyes and moved towards Scully. He cupped her jaw and kissed her before she could even protest, and she stammered a train of jumbled words against his mouth.
He pulled away and sat back on his heels, "Sorry, I just wanted to kiss you when I wasn't high."
"That's fine," she said, a little breathless, "Just warn me next time."
Mulder waggled his eyebrows at her and leant forward again, twisting his lips into a deliciously wet pout, "There's gonna be a next time?"
Scully shrugged, "Sure. I had a good evening. You managed to make a doomed night almost perfect, so I think you deserve a bit of making out."
She didn't say that she hadn't felt that happy in months. She hoped he could tell.
"Almost perfect?"
"I did end up rolling around in a tree with a half-naked twenty five year old while high on marijuana. My mother would be mortified," while she spoke, she fixed her clothes and took her hair out of the messy bun it had been in. Her scalp ached painfully, but she shook her hair out around her ears, and the expression on Mulder's face was reward enough, "What are you staring at?"
He flushed a little, and rubbed his hand against the back of his neck, "Nothing. I just didn't know your hair was so... red."
"Got a problem with redheads?"
"Oh, God, no. I think I'm permanently swayed towards them now."
She smiled down at her crossed legs, "I'll take that as a compliment."
"You better."
Scully looked up just as Mulder moved in to kiss her again. This time, she was ready for him, and she met him with an open mouth and a hand on the back of his neck. He exhaled in surprise, but held the kiss steady, his tongue pressing into her mouth and meeting her own. They panted into one another for a few minutes, their hands never really straying below their waists.
When they finally broke apart, at the sound of faraway sirens, she ran her hands down his arms and tapped her finger against a few of the tattooed stars. She thought briefly about the tattoo on her lower back, but was distracted when Mulder pressed his forehead against hers and sighed.
"One day, Mulder," she mumbled, turning her attention back to his eyes, "I'm going to count and kiss every single one of these stars on your arms, and every freckle on your body."
"There are t--"
She silenced him with a short kiss. She'd be damned if she was going to let him ruin the surprise. They separated again, and she whispered, grinning, "You know, Mulder, I pretty much just offered you sex, and you almost turned me down."
His brow furrowed in confusion, then flattened in understanding, "Oh."
"Yeah, oh."
They sat there for a moment, silently staring at one another in a bubble of comfortable silence.
"I'm hungry," Mulder said, his stomach growling as if to punctuate his point.
Scully agreed, suddenly realising what the ache in the pit of her stomach was, "Hey, do you want to come back to my dorm for some breakfast? I don't know what time it is, but my roommate should still be out."
"Nah, let's go to mine. My roommate definitely won't be in."
"Why?"
"My roommate is me."
Scully frowned, "You live alone?"
"Perks of being Skinner's favourite student," Mulder grinned and brushed Scully's hair away from her eyes, "All my past roommates didn't stay for long anyway. They thought I was spooky, and most of them moved to other rooms within a week or two. It's just me, now. Spooky Mulder, all alone. At least I get to pick the radio station every day."
Scully's heart sank when she remembered the way Mulder had stiffened when Bill called him 'Spooky' at the party. She felt awful for calling him that name, now.
"Hey, listen, I didn't mean it, when I called you Spooky. I didn't know," she said quietly, forcing herself to meet Mulder's gaze.
"It's alright, Scully," Mulder smiled sadly, "You're not the first, and you sure as hell won't be the last. I don't mind. Really. 'Spooky' is better than nothing at all."
Scully nodded, not entirely convinced, but smiled anyway. She climbed out of the tree, beckoning Mulder to follow. They stood there in the fresh air for a few moments, just breathing in the new heat of the day, their flushed skin glowing in the watery sunlight that was seeping through the canopy.
Mulder ducked back into the tree to gather his t-shirt. He stepped back out into the day, and a smile broke out on his face when he saw Scully. She couldn't help but smile back. His effect on her was just indescribable.
"So, breakfast?" Mulder held out his hand, and Scully took it gratefully.
Their fingers locked together like they had been made for it, and they set off walking, headed for the break in the treeline. She bumped her hip into his and said, grinning, "If this breakfast goes well, Mulder, who knows - I might be the new Mrs Spooky."
They laughed in unison, peals of joy echoing through the trees and out across the empty park, and onwards they went.