Chapter Text
Scully returned from the kitchen with two cups of coffee. Mulder didn’t look up from the copy of Gray’s Anatomy he had picked up from Scully’s bookshelf but Scully had a suspicion he wasn’t really reading it; he hasn’t looked her in the eye since the cops had left.
What had he seen, exactly? Scully knew she hadn’t actually kissed the fake Mulder, even if it was seconds away from happening. While she was making the coffee she decided he must be angry about it because he obviously had no romantic interest in her. Now she’d gone and ruined their friendship by daring to suggest they could be something more. She could’ve lived out her time at the FBI working with Mulder, never letting on that she wanted him, loving him from a distance. But tonight had changed that. She silently cursed herself for allowing her mask to slip, for being too rash, but perhaps it wasn’t too late to salvage their friendship.
“Mulder, it wasn’t what it looked like,” Scully said lamely.
Mulder, who was lounging on the couch in exactly the same place as Eddie Van Blundht had been not an hour earlier, raised a sardonic eyebrow. Scully felt her cheeks flush and for once she was grateful that he didn’t raise his eyes from the pages of the book. She silently put the mugs on the coffee table and sat on the floor on the opposite side of the table, not wanting to sit too close to Mulder.
“Uhuh,” he said slowly, still flicking listlessly though the book. She thought for a minute she was going to throw up. She had to get them out of this mess.
“I’m sorry, that was patronising. It was exactly what it looked like,” Scully said, hoping her candour might elicit some warmth from her partner, but it fell flat.
“Right… Great… Even better…” Mulder said coldly. He reached for his coffee and looked down into his cup. Scully put her head in her hands, rubbing her eyes. She wished she could take back this whole evening. “So you were gonna do what exactly, Scully? Go to bed with him…?”
“I don’t know,” Scully said truthfully, her voice muffled somewhat by her hands, which were still clamped tightly over her face.
She really didn’t know. How far would she have let it go? She couldn’t really imagine a scenario where kissing Mulder didn’t lead to more if she had any control over the situation. Plus that wine she’d shared with Eddie had been strong. Definitely part of his ploy to get her into bed.
“Christ, Scully! The guy was an idiot. I’ve got fish with higher IQs!” He was shouting, and Scully flinched at the sound. In all their years working together, intellectually sparring over X file theories, vehemently disagreeing with each other oftentimes, she couldn’t recall when he had last raised his voice at her... not like this. “What the hell did he say to make you think that… necking him… was going to be a good idea?!”
“Mulder, please!” Scully whispered. “He was- oh, I don’t know! He didn’t say a whole lot actually. How was I supposed to know he wasn’t you?”
“But how… why… Why would you…” Mulder paused, trying to form his question. “What the hell did he do to make you think four years of work - of friendship - were worth risking? He was all over you Scully. He put all the moves on you, and you let him!”
“It wasn’t like that!” Scully was staring at him in disbelief. She couldn’t fathom why he was so offended by what he’d seen. Was she really so repulsive to him?
“You guys were pretty damn cozy on this couch together,” Mulder motioned joyously at the couch he was sitting on. “How the hell did he get that far without you realising? What did he do?”
Mulder’s eyes never once left the mug of coffee that was now shaking in his hands. She’d never seen him so enraged. Scully gaped at him. Why the hell did he want to know what Eddie did to seduce her?
“I guess… he showed up at my apartment with wine and asked me questions about myself - about my life,” she said simply.
“He must have some kind of power to make people bend to his will, maybe like Modell? Or perhaps he’s got a pheromone like animals have? Or some kind of low level telepathy?” Mulder mused, mostly to himself, still staring blankly at the cup of coffee.
“Mulder, even if I did think humans were capable of telepathy, I don’t think Eddie Van Blundht is one of them. I think it’s far more likely that as a pretty unattractive guy, he’s always had to use everything he’s got to bed women. Including conversation,”- Mulder glared mutinously at his coffee but Scully continued undeterred (perhaps it was the wine talking) - “all I’m saying is we’ve spent a long time working together but we don’t know anything about each other. Most of what I know about you pertains to the X Files… I don’t know your favourite movie, or who your high school crush was or, or, what you do on Saturday nights when you’re not in the office. Is it really so unimaginable to you that talking - I mean really talking - might lead to a deeper connection?”
“I didn’t realise you wanted to talk about movies and high school, Scully,” Mulder spat irritably, “I thought you were deeper than that.”
Scully sighed, a sinking feeling taking over her stomach. She knew he was being deliberately mean, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt her. She pushed those feelings down. They had to talk about this. Properly.
“Don’t be obtuse Mulder. You know I didn’t want to specifically talk about those things. I just think we could talk about stuff that isn’t all aliens and telepathy in those stupid X Files in that stupid basement where I don’t even have a desk!” Scully scoffed. “Do you even see me as a real person or just some naysayer MD who wants to scupper you at every opportunity? I’ve supported you even when I didn’t believe. I’ve never once betrayed you and I’m not even sure you think I’m worthy of a second look. Now when someone comes along and threatens the equilibrium, who actually knows how to talk to women, you act like a teenage boy and won’t even tell me what’s wrong!”
“I never knew you felt like that,” he said quietly. He finally looked up at Scully; she thought he looked absolutely crestfallen. “And I asked Skinner to bring a desk down for you, it’s not my fault he hasn’t done it yet!”
“It’s not about the desk! I don’t even know why you’re being so cruel about this whole situation. I made a mistake and I’m sorry that you’re offended. But now I think of it, why are you so offended? Because I thought he was you? Because I was about to kiss him? Were you jealous of him or grossed out by me? I’d really like to know where I stand with you, given that it’s pretty obvious from tonight I’m not the slightest bit grossed out by you!”
Scully gulped; she couldn’t believe she’d just said that. There was an astronomical, pause as Mulder just stared at her in shock, mouthing wordlessly. He looked like a startled deer. Eventually, Mulder spoke.
“I wasn’t… grossed out. At all. I can’t believe you’d even think that, Scully,” he said slowly, carefully picking his words, “I just… didn’t think you’d be so… easy is all.”
Scully rolled her eyes, running both hands through her hair in exasperation, saying, “1950s attitudes aside, I don’t think you can exactly call me “easy” when I’ve worked with you for four years.”
“But it wasn’t me,” said Mulder through clenched teeth.
“But I thought it was you, Mulder. And isn’t that the point? Imagine how I feel right about now… I thought I was in the company of someone I trust implicitly, someone I care for deeply, and instead it was some weirdo taking advantage who looked exactly like you. And now you’re giving me a hard time about it. You haven’t even asked me if I’m okay.”
It was true, he hadn’t. He’d barged into Scully’s apartment all guns blazing, followed by a whole team of police, and once they’d left he’d just sulked right there on the couch. Mulder didn’t respond, he seemed to be regarding Scully with some kind of shocked reverence.
Scully continued, “look, since I got my diagnosis, I made a decision not to put things on hold because it made me realise how short and precious life is. I decided that I should say “yes” to things. Tattoos, vacations and, yes, sometimes even sex. Sometimes with the wrong person… remember Ed Jerse?”
She felt her cheeks burning again as she remembered her eventful trip to Philadelphia, but Mulder didn’t seem to be interested in any of that.
“So you were going to sleep with him?” Mulder said in an accusatory tone, pointing at her like she was a suspect in one of their murder investigations. Scully closed her eyes, praying for strength.
“Mulder, I’m not sure how far it would have gone but if I was going to sleep with anyone tonight, it was only because I was going to sleep with you.” Mulder’s eyes widened.
“Him,” Mulder corrected, sharply.
Scully raised her eyebrows, eyeing him with disdain, “It is jealousy, isn’t it?”
After a long silence, Mulder - rather sheepishly - said, “I guess… yeah…” He continued “I- I love you Scully. Ever since you got taken away, probably before that.”
They stared at each other across the table for what felt like an age. Scully hugged her knees and Mulder rubbed his left hand across his face, sighing, still nursing his coffee in his right. She couldn’t believe he had said it, and not because she had cancer or because he was making a joke.
“I wish one of us had the guts to say something before tonight,” Scully said sadly.
“I didn’t think you wanted that, Scully. I didn’t think you wanted me. Not like that.”
“I didn’t when I first met you. I thought you were an asshole,” she chuckled, “I can’t remember exactly when I realised exactly how I felt but it’s been a long time.”
“You should have said…”
“I didn’t want to burden you with that too, Mulder. Not after the cancer. I didn’t want you to hurt even more if - when - the inevitable happens.” It was true. Since the diagnosis, in those sleepless night time fantasies in which she dared to dream Mulder might just reciprocate her feelings, all she could think of was how short their time together would be. How devastating it would be to be the one left behind.
“I don’t care about that,” he muttered, “if you’ve got one hour or one hundred years, it doesn’t matter. And you know what, Scully, we don’t talk enough."
“Well Mulder, if you’d like to buy us a bottle of wine and talk to me like a real human being for once, maybe I’ll extend you the same courtesy as I extended Eddie,” Mulder blushed and looked down again. Scully chanced a small grin.
“You really mean that, don’t you?” Mulder said hopefully.
“Of course I do. Jesus, Mulder, the only boundary here is the one you’re creating by being such a klutz with women.”
Mulder laughed and made a motion like he was about to get up from the sofa, seemed to think better of it and stayed where he was. Scully, realising she was going to have to do most of the leg work, got up and sat next to him on the couch. Mulder blinked and hugged his coffee mug, sipping nervously. Scully reached across and took the mug from him, placing it on the coffee table. She laughed, finding it amusing how confident he could be about his openness to believing in bizarre conspiracies, and yet here he was crumbling because a woman sat next to him on the couch.
“Uhh Scully, you know I don’t have any wine right now, right?” Mulder smiled, looking across at her.
Scully rolled her eyes again, but this time she was smiling back at him. She reached her hand out towards his and he took it gently, intertwining his fingers with hers. Their eyes met, wide and dilated.
“Mulder…”
She leaned towards him, placing a hand on his chest, nestling her head against him. She heard his breath hitch but he was still… rigid. She buried her face in his neck, just holding him, inhaling a mixture of coffee, cologne and antiperspirant on him.
“Is this ok?” Scully asked, raising her head so her her face was just millimetres from his.
“Scully, I’m trying to work out how to tell you I’m suddenly incredibly nervous without making you think I’m a total-”
But what it was, Scully never found out. She kissed him. As if a switch had been flicked in his head, she finally felt Mulder relax.