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"What did you just say?" Scully asked her partner, her eyebrows raised nearly to her hairline, which Mulder had to admit was quite a feat.
He grinned at her before steeling his expression, attempting to remain serious in the face of her incredulity. "I don't understand the issue, Scully. What don't you get? If we want to solve this case, we just might have to consider a few more unorthodox methods of discovery."
"Yes, but Mulder–"
"Now, I know what you're going to say. 'But Mulder, how is walking through the forest knocking on trees with sticks and howling going to help us with this case?' and I will rebut with: 'well, Scully, I believe that is what the victim was doing at the time of his death'. If we can replicate the circumstances of his death, we just might find out what killed him."
She studied him closely, her eyes narrowing. "The banging on trees with sticks and howling is not the part of the plan I had a problem with, Mulder. Even as unbelievably ridiculous as it is."
He bit the plush lower lip she was always staring at. "Look, I'm not saying sticking you in a cage as bait will bring bigfoot out of his hidey-hole, Scully, but it might!"
"Strangest thing I ever heard," Scully muttered under her breath. "Mulder, I refuse to be bigfoot bait! Not only do I heavily object on a personal and professional level, but what the hell would we tell Skinner?"
He grinned, a mischievous glint tarnishing the hazel of his eyes. "We'd only have to tell Skinner if I'm right. Are you saying you think I'm right, Scully? You think we can find Bigfoot?"
The look she gave him could've sent regular men sprinting for the hills. But Mulder was no regular man.
"That's the last thing I'm saying." She sighed, exasperated.
"Well, then we're at a standstill with this case, Scully." He tapped his fingers impatiently on the desk and pursed his lips.
"I can go over my autopsy findings again, see if there is anything I missed."
"We both know you didn't miss anything, Scully."
Scully blushed slightly at the compliment, averting her eyes.
"Also, there is no way that after five years of working together, me asking you to be bigfoot bait is the strangest thing you've ever heard." He smirked and leaned into her space.
She smiled at him. "You're right, Mulder. How could I forget the ghost piranha incident, or maybe the rope that needed an exorcism?"
"It was haunted, Scully!"
"Or what about when fae creatures stole the slippers from everyone in one of those small towns in Colorado, just to display them in a runic circle? I forget, what were they trying to summon again?" She grinned, amused.
Mulder leaned back and crossed his arm, a sweet pout forming on his lips. "The spirit of the forest. Nature taking back nature, blah blah blah. I get the point, Scully."
"But none of that matters, Mulder."
"No?"
She took his hands in hers. "I like weird."
His delighted smirk was back again, and as much as Scully liked the pout, she liked his smile better.
"You do, don't you?"
"I'd never lie about a thing like that , Mulder. You know that."
He shook his head, awe in his eyes. "No, you wouldn't," he lifted one of her delicate hands and pressed a soft kiss to her palm. "So you'll do it?"
Her jaw dropped and she pulled her hands out of his, laughing as he grinned. "Absolutely not!"
"Come on, Scully! It'll be totally safe!"
"Not if your theory is correct!"
"Ah, so you admit there is some credence, maybe some plausibility, to my theory."
"Not even a little bit."
"Scully–"
"Mulder!"
He chuckled softly, leaning back in his chair and grinning at the air of indignance she wore upon her sharp features.
Scully was always beautiful, but she was especially beautiful in the heat of an argument.
"What?" She murmured, leaning back into his space.
He suddenly didn't know what to say. She'd rebutted his argument, like she always did, and he found himself unequivocally agreeing with her. Even if there was a chance to find Bigfoot, he'd never sacrifice her to do it.
He shook his head. "Just thinking you're right."
"Really?"
"Why do you sound surprised?" He asked, amused.
"I just–" she cleared her throat. "I'm surprised you conceded the point already."
He leaned forward. "If bigfoot wants to be found, Scully, that is the only way anyone will find him."
"You're not just waxing poetic, are you?" Her gaze was fond and full of admiration.
"Not even a little. Besides, our John Doe was probably just killed by a bear or something."
Her brows furrowed. "But the predation marks don't indicate–"
"I think this one belongs to Major Crimes, Scully. I think we'll find that some sicko carved up our victim and dumped him in the woods."
Scully looked at him curiously for a moment before smiling softly. "You just might be right about that, Mulder."
He grinned and tangled his fingers with hers again, squeezing lightly to thank her. She squeezed back and he watched, delighted, as a soft blush spread through her cheeks.
This unnameable thing between them was slowly forging itself a name, and he couldn't wait to solve this next mystery.