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The first time she heard him say it, he was leaning back in his chair, arms folded over his chest, and watching her patiently, as she searched for the words to express her current situation.
“Oh Mulder, I really would love to see what you had in mind, but a friend of mine invited me to watch her play, and she's holding me seats in the first row.”
“I'll wait,” He said, moving to sit up, and reaching for his Rolodex. Scully watched as he flipped through it.
“For what?”
“The play to be over. I'll pick you up. Give me a call.” He said, selecting a card, and taking the phone’s receiver in his free hand.
It left her speechless, but finally, she agreed.
The next time she heard it, they were in the gym. Mulder was doing crunches, and she was spotting him.
“Are you doing anything after work?” He asked, as he completed another rep.
“I'm going to go see my mom, why?”
“I wanted to know if maybe you'd like to have dinner with me.”
“I would love to, but I don't think tonight will work. I tend to leave mom’s place pretty late.” She said, watching as he sat up a final time and reached for his water bottle. Sweat trickled down his forehead in small rivulets that ran down the sides of his face, and on to his grey t-shirt.
“That's alright, I'll wait.” Mulder said, when he was done drinking. This also took her by surprise, but she agreed.
They were in the car the third time she heard it. They were staking out a suspect. It was going on 8 hours, and she was ready to go home and give up. With a yawn, she stretched.
“Mulder, I think it's time to admit that we lost our guy. We’re not grabbing him tonight.”
Mulder looked over at her, blinking slowly, as though she had just materialized out of thin air. When he spoke, his voice was low, but hopefully optimistic.
“That's okay, I'll wait. I've got nothing better to do.”
Scully gave him a saddened look but exited the vehicle, and headed for her own. Her thoughts remained with Mulder, and the lonely existence he led, in which he sought her company with an increasing frequency.
He only used it when he meant it. If he wasn't going to wait, he wouldn't linger. But when he said he would wait, Scully could attest to the fact that at 2:30 in the morning, with work the next day, he would have dinner with her, and talk with her until the sun would come up and remind them they had to go home.
“Why do you always do that?” She one day asked him, after he muttered lowly,
“I'll wait,” when the copier was not being compliant. Jabbing the copy button repeatedly, he looked over at Scully, not seeing what she meant.
“What, fight with the copier?”
“No, you always say, ‘I'll wait’, like it means something.”
He shrugged, his broad shoulders rising and falling, as the copier finally began to come to life, scanning his paper and beginning the process of duplicating it.
“If it doesn't mean anything, why say it?”
“I guess it depends on the context, really,” He answered, checking the indicator on the panel when it reported that there was no toner.
With an irritated sigh, he discarded his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, bending over to open the door that housed the toner for the copier. Sliding his digits along the underside of the handle, he flipped a small latch and jerked the cartridge out in a rough motion, discarding it as well, and looking for the spare replacement toner that was usually kept nearby. Scully watched him, unwilling to admit that she liked watching him do office work.
“Uh, you know how I said, ‘I'll wait’, to the copier? There, it's just a sarcastic way of saying that it's taking too long. Since it's taking its time, I'll just wait for it to be done. But when I say it to you, I really mean it every time: I would wait for you to finish what you were doing so I can spend some time with you.” Mulder continued, replacing the toner. The toner had stained his hands, and so walking past her, he went to go wash them. When he was finished, he dried off his hands and retrieved his jacket from the floor. He discarded the old toner, and pressed the copy button again. The machine hummed to life once more and began to print his copies.
“I'm flattered,” Scully said, watching his copies come out as big blocks of black ink. He gave an exasperated sigh and kicked the machine, before taking the original and heading for the elevator at the end of the hall. Scully followed after him.
The next time it was mentioned, a couple of weeks had passed. Scully was in the office, on a small crate, looking through the filing cabinet, while Mulder played with a paddleball, leaned back in his chair.
“I was wondering,” Scully started, extracting a file and tossing it to the floor in a growing pile of other files, “did you have any plans for today?”
Mulder glanced over, the ball nearly hitting him in the face, as it bounded around on its string wildly. It eventually lost momentum and fell.
“Uh, yeah, actually, I've got D&D with the Lone Gunmen. You're welcome to come with me, if you like.” Mulder said, putting the paddle down and rubbing the back of his head.
“It's no problem. I'll wait until you guys are done. Maybe we could perhaps rent a movie at Blockbuster, and watch it at my place?” Scully suggested, finally pausing long enough to look him over. He seemed genuinely surprised, but gave her a grin.
“You're better off picking the movie then and renting it under your name--I'm already renting Electric Blue 38, 47 and 10.” Mulder said, and although Scully didn't know what that was, she had the creeping suspicion, based on the way his eyes were lit up that they had more or less to do with porn.
“Okay, that's fine,” Scully said, returning to what she had been doing previously.
When he stepped inside the apartment the Lone Gunmen shared, he was surprised to find Scully surrounded by the trio, Peter, their DM, and Brian one of their many hacker acquaintances, and the D&D map spread on the table. They looked up at him, and Mulder blinked, not really understanding what was going on.
“Hey Mulder,” Langley said, and the others nodded. Scully smiled at him, mischievously.
“Scully—what are you doing here?”
“I wanted to watch you play. I got here early, though, so the boys were helping me roll a character. I'm rolling a cleric, if that's okay with you…”
“Scully—”
“He's not the DM, I am.”
“Yeah, but that's his girlfriend,” Brian protested.
“She is not, Scully isn't dating Mulder, and she’s his partner. She's the other narc I told you about—the pretty one.” Frohike explained, and Mulder rolled his eyes.
“In the interest of being fair, Mulder, how do you feel about Scully being here?” Peter asked.
“I don't care. I'm ready to start,” Mulder said, taking out his notebook and some dice.
When the session ended, Mulder and Scully drove to Blockbuster, chatting the entire way about the D&D session.
“I’m surprised you actually enjoyed it,” Mulder said, and Scully laughed a little.
“Me too. It’s the last thing I suspected I would be doing, but I’m glad I tried it because I had fun. Is it something you guys do on a weekly basis?”
“No, it’s a monthly basis. I’ll invite you next time,” He said, as they pulled into the parking lot of the Blockbuster video store. The pair climbed out of the car and headed inside, immediately branching out to separate sections of the store. Mulder made a beeline to the adult section, and Scully was in the horror section, tossed up between a movie about a slime creature and a movie about a killer dog.
When they reunited with each other, it was in the family movie section. Mulder sheepishly hid the movie he was thinking of renting, and Scully had a couple in her arms that she showed Mulder. Standing beside and close to her, he appraised her choice of movies before selecting the movie about the slime creature. She departed from his company to replace the other movies, and he took his place on line. When she joined him on line, they stood close together, conversing in low, intimate tones.
“What do you feel about dinner? Should we maybe do that too?” Mulder asked, and Scully used a hand to brush her hair out of her eyes as she glanced up at him.
“That sounds like a good idea, what did you have in mind?”
“How do you feel? Going out or staying in?”
Scully looked down at the ground, her hair falling in front of her and obscuring her smile.
“I'd… like to go out for dinner.” Scully said, to gauge his reaction. If he was surprised or expecting differently, he did not show it.
“Okay, you know this area better, so you pick.” He said, as if it was not a big deal.
She wasn't sure what it was about his behavior that was making her insides flutter, but when they got to the counter, he paid for the rental, and walked her out of the video store, going on about an alleged slime creature that lived somewhere beneath the sewers of New York.
“…see the sanitation department of NYC has been getting so many reports about it that they have a special division to deal with it and--what's the matter?” Mulder asked, looking over at her more clearly. She'd been staring at him with a look she didn't realize was almost endearing.
“N-nothing,” She said, recomposing herself and walking past him, to the car. Mulder watched her as she walked off before following after her.
“Please don't order without me,” Scully said, as she pushed her chair out to stand. Mulder stood reflectively too, and waited until she pushed her chair back in to say,
“Don't worry, I'll wait.”
She paused, hearing the words and she smiled nervously, before hurrying off to the bathroom. Mulder took his seat again and scanned the menu.
When Scully came back, Mulder rose again, and waited until she was seated to sit. She blinked, and then asked,
“Why did you do that?”
“Do what?” He asked, taking a sip of water.
“I noticed the first time, you did it when I left to go to the bathroom, and you did it again when I came back—you stood when I did. Why?”
“I don't know, it was something my mother taught me to do when I was younger. My dad did it all the time, and said it was something people just did. When the women at the table get up, the men stand and when they go, they sit. They stand when the women come back too. I don't know why. I do it all the time with you, I guess you never noticed,” Mulder said, and Scully contemplated her empty plate and his words.
The waiter came and took their order, and when he left, Mulder fixed his attention on Scully. The place was not terribly fancy, but it wasn't relatively shoddy, either. Scully looked like she fit right in, in her blouse and the way her hair fell around her shoulders. That's when he noticed: she had reapplied her makeup.
He decided not to mention it, but he said absently,
“You look nice.”
“I look the same as always.” She said dismissively.
“Yes, but I was just stating that I think you look nice.” Mulder tried, and he saw something in her that hinted at evasion.
“Okay…” Her tone was dismissive, and she distracted herself from the compliment by looking at the table cloth.
“Why don't you believe that?” His tone surprised her, because it was hurt, and she didn't understand why. Her eyes darted quickly to his, and she regret it, because his state had an intrusive quality that made her feel like her entire life was a lie.
“Melissa’s the pretty one,” Scully said, with a small laugh that was bitter in tone. “I'm just the brains. I've never really been told that I was good looking.”
“I'm telling you now.”
Scully looked at him in earnest.
“Yeah, but you're my partner.”
“So? That just means I have to be honest with you. I think that you are beautiful. You have this sort of relaxed look about you that is professional but welcoming. I wouldn't say this if I didn't feel that way. Would I say I find you attractive? Yes. So that's what I think.”
Scully wasn’t sure what to say, so she said nothing.
Dinner was over and done with, and Mulder had escorted Scully to the car. It was a nice dinner that Scully found herself enjoying. The jokes and the laughs came easy, and even though Mulder didn’t bring up her looks again, she could tell he had meant what he said about her.
“Mulder,” She started, using her hand to sweep the stray locks from her face, “Thank you.”
“For?”
“This evening, for waiting… for everything.”
Mulder gave her a knowing smile, but slipped into the driver’s seat of the car.