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Mulder wakes with a start, finding himself on a couch, Scully pressed against him. Unlike him, she’s still fast asleep, her jaw slack, her face peaceful. It takes him a moment to remember. This is not his home, or hers. They’re at Mrs. Scully’s because Scully asked him to be here. And he, for once, couldn’t say no. Didn’t even want to. There’s no telling what time it is, and he’s scared to move a single muscle. He doesn’t want to disturb Scully.
“It’s not my fault.” The booming voice of Bill Scully Jr. is close. Too close for Mulder’s liking. Luckily, Scully slumbers on.
“Will you be quiet?” That’s Mrs. Scully’s. Her voice is as agitated as her son’s.
“Why did she bring him here? She didn’t have to bring him.”
Him. That, Mulder figures, is him. He looks at Scully, is glad she doesn’t have to listen to this. He’s used to it. It doesn’t matter. Part of him even agrees with Bill Scully.
“He doesn’t belong here.” His eyes remain on Scully’s face. The way her lashes touch her cheekbones. If he weren’t so worried about waking her, he’d touch them, too. Every single freckle on her nose, her cheeks, her forehead. He loves her freckles. He knows she tries to hide them. Same thing with her beauty mark. He, however, loves every little piece of her, especially the ones she deems imperfect.
“Your sister wants him here.”
“He keeps inserting himself into our lives.” There’s nothing but malice in Bill’s voice. Mulder swallows hard. Is he right? The question circles in his mind. He can’t ask Scully. Wouldn’t dare anyway. She’s not a good liar, wouldn’t lie to him about this. But what if he can’t stomach the truth?
“Bill, you’re my son, and I love you, but you’re either blind or in denial.” The Scully women are his favorite. Granted, he’s never met the elusive Charlie Scully or Bill Scully Sr. But the Scully women protect those they love like lionesses, fight for what is right.
“What?” Mulder can’t be certain, but he thinks he hears hesitation in the other man’s voice.
“Dana loves Fox. They’re in love.” What would Scully do if she were awake now? Would she deny it? Would she lift an eyebrow and challenge him to deny it? He wouldn’t. What Mrs. Scully says is not groundbreaking, is nothing he doesn’t know. At least when it comes to his feelings for Scully. He loves her. There’s no other way to describe what he feels for her. If anything, love is too weak a word for his feelings. Earlier, when Scully asked him to join her - almost begged him to come with her to her family’s Christmas - he thought she was asking out of pity. Just for a moment. After luring her out to the haunted mansion, after whatever happened in there, she might be feeling sorry for him. That’s all it was. Then he looked into her eyes and understood something. He realized that he never had to lie. She would have come to the house even if he had told her what it was right away. Scully would have been there because she wanted to be. Not because it was their work, but because she likes him.
“They’re not in love,” Bill throws back, but he doesn’t sound confident at all. “Dana said they’re not a couple. Was she lying to me?”
Mulder hears Mrs. Scully chuckle, or at least thinks he hears her chuckle. He’s straining to hear her answer, always careful not to jostle Scully. She’s been sleeping through all of it. How she doesn’t wake up is beyond him. But what a wonderful feeling to know that she trusts him enough to keep her safe, no matter what is going on around them.
“I said they’re in love,” Mrs. Scully says. “Not that they’re admitting it. You know how stubborn your sister is.” Bill Scully huffs. “Much like you. I want you to leave them alone. They love each other. You don’t have to like it or understand it. What they have is special. All you need to do is accept it. Can you do that?”
Silence stretches on. Mulder keeps his eyes open, watches Scully. He can do that all day. Or night. Whatever time it is. His arm is around her, her leg is in between his. No wonder Bill freaked out when he saw them. A strand of hair falls across Scully’s face, and his hand twitches to tuck it behind her ear. Not yet, he thinks. He doesn’t want her to wake up just yet.
“I asked you a question, Bill.”
“I can be civil,” he says, grumbling through every word. “If he hurts her in any way, though-”
“He won’t, and now be quiet before you wake them up.” A moment later, the living room falls quiet again. There’s only him, Scully’s even breathing, and the gentle lighting from the Christmas tree. He takes a deep breath and keeps watching over her. Their time will come. One day, they will admit what they feel, will take the next step. Tonight, they will hold each other, be with each other. In love, but unspoken.