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She’s scrubbing at her face, hoping to get rid of the paint splatters that speak of their victory in the video game. After all, it could be blood. They could be, she realizes with a shudder, lying dead and cold in a morgue. They’re not. She’s here in the shower, trying to get rid of the paint and the ringing in her ears.
They got home half an hour ago, her muscles protesting as they walked upstairs to her apartment. Despite the hour, they ran into one of her neighbors, who just stared at them. They’ve long stopped asking questions. Tonight, she’s too tired to answer any of them anyway. That’s why she made Mulder write up the report. The thought of him sitting out there in her living room, still partly dressed in gaming gear, splotches of color on his face, typing away, puts a small smile on her face. Her face, she finds, is one of the few body parts that’s not sore.
Lucky her.
As the water drums down on her body and she realizes that she should probably leave some hot water for Mulder, too, she can’t shake the niggling feeling in the back of her mind. The Mulder she saw today, the one who was drooling like a dog over a video game character, and felt the need to blast the crap out of something, is a Mulder she’s unfamiliar with. After all these years together, he’s never shown that particular side of himself to her.
“Hey, you.” Mulder knocks softly against the shower door, surprising her. “Leave me some hot water, huh?”
“I’m almost done.” She closes her eyes and lets herself enjoy the warmth one more moment before she turns the water off. When she steps out, Mulder is there with a towel for her, while he’s stark naked. Unashamed as always. She mouths a thank you while she lets him wrap the towel around her body.
“That was good work,” he murmurs, touching her face. His finger follows the contours of her cheekbones where the paint splotches were just an hour ago. “I still look like a clown,” he finishes with a grin.
“You do.”
“I wasn’t talking about the paint, though. What you did in there- Scully, you were amazing.”
“That’s my job.” She tries to step away from him, but he stops her with a gentle touch on her elbow.
“Being amazing is your job?” He grins. “I’m serious, Scully. I would have been toast. We all would have been. You beat the game.”
“I didn’t. The kill command did.” Mulder shakes his head.
“Before that. You saved my ass.”
“Worth it,” she whispers with a raised eyebrow before she does something she’s always wanted, and never before dared. She gently slaps one of his ass cheeks, making him chuckle.
“Glad you think so. Before all my blood moves south, though, and I won’t be able to think with my actual brain anymore, let me just say thank you, all right?” She’s taken aback, staring up at him. He’s serious. He’s almost too serious. “I don’t say it often enough. I know you don’t understand the need to blast the crap out of something.”
“Maybe I do now.” His eyes grow wide. Only when it is to save him; but that remains her secret for now.
“You want to do it again?”
“No,” she says quickly.
“You were incredible,” he says with a sigh. “But that’s not – I’m glad you came in there, Scully. I’m glad that you saved my ass and probably will do so again next week or next month.”
“And you’ll save mine.”
“Oh yeah.” Up until now, he’s kept his hands to himself. Not anymore. The towel comes loose again and his hands make contact with her skin. Goosebumps appear where his fingers travel over her body. They wander from her shoulder over her arms, make a detour to her boobs, and finally land on her hips. Heat emanates off of Mulder and Scully wonders if he’ll even need hot water at all.
“I know I haven’t showered yet, but…,” he trails off, his mouth landing on hers. His tongue makes a compelling case; he’s teasing her, knowing she can’t resist his plush mouth and his taste. But there’s still that feeling in the back of her mind. She ends the kiss, and Mulder's mouth follows hers, until she puts a hand on his chest.
“Mulder, how often do you play video games?”
“Huh?”
“I didn’t even know you liked them.”
He shrugs before he loops his arms back around her. “I don’t. I play them sometimes with the Gunmen. Or used to. It was, well, call it a misguided sense of nostalgia.”
“I didn’t ask because I think you shouldn’t play them. I was just- it’s something I didn’t know about you.”
“And you were wondering if one of these weekends I was going to ask you if I could bring my Playstation? Don’t worry, Scully,” he says, leaving a soft kiss on her nose, “I won’t. I have better things to do with my hands.”
“Do you, now?” And she knows he does. Her body is well acquainted with his hands by now. She can’t get enough of his touch. Not now, not ever. His kisses become hungrier, and she realizes they’re walking backward, towards her bedroom. Mulder’s shower is forgotten, and she laughs softly as she comes face to face with the paint still on his face.
“You can help me wash it off.”
“Later,” she says, touching every paint splatter on his face, no matter how small. They tell a story, too. She wonders what else she’ll learn about Mulder. And what he’ll learn about her in the process. There are still so many stories to tell. Tonight, though, she wants to feel.