Work Text:
“Oh, how I can’t wait to get off work,” Scully let out, collapsing her forehead on her forearm over the paperwork with a heavy sigh.
Mulder popped his head up from his own paperwork and looked at her, sitting across from him at his desk. He peeked at his wristwatch, then back at Scully. Those were the first words either of them had spoken in almost an hour. He knew she was bored — and so was he — and it felt good just to hear the sound of her voice. “Why?” He asked, earnest and contemplative, willing to keep the conversation going.
She looked up at him and sighed noisily again. She closed the folder she had been working on and crossed her arms above it. “Well … you know,” she replied simply, somewhat evasively, implying that he would know.
He raised his eyebrows in question.
She sighed once more, wryly this time, and softly smiled. “It’s Friday night, Mulder,” she begged.
“And … you have a hot date?” The words came out of his mouth before he had the time to process them in his head. He raised his hand instinctively with a little “Sorry.”
She snorted in surprise. “No.”
He closed his folder too, suddenly decisive. He smiled and mirrored her, gazing at her in admiration. “Do you want one?”
She stared at him open-mouthed and laughed. Geez, he loved her laugh. He would never get enough of that laugh. She shook her head, smiling, as she reopened her folder and kindly replied, “No.”
“Then I’m the guy for you,” he insisted.
She laughed. Again. She looked at him in awe; staring back at him. The smile on her lips was mysterious and sexy, but the one that reached her eyes thoroughly was sweet and happy, encouraging perhaps … He felt his soul wrapped in these deep beautiful blue eyes and these swollen and glorious lips. So many emotions and not a single word spoken.
He cocked his head and laid it casually into his palm. “You know, Scully, one time, I talked to this girl, and she didn't run away.”
She kept on smiling. “You’re serious,” she realized.
“Why, yeah. Why not?” Not really, but, hell, it’s not like that idea never crossed my mind over the years, he thought, and even more often recently.
“You want to take me out on a date?” Of course she would have to double check.
He nodded, smiling and inwardly blessing his unpremeditated and accidental audacity.
Her eyes didn't waver from his. Not one bit. She studied him while he struggled to stay the cool guy he assumed he’d always been. At least that was the guy he was until she laid her eyes on him. Don't swallow now, don't swallow now, he compelled himself inwardly. “Um … yes, why not, Mulder?”
Dumbfound, he straightened up on his chair. “Really?”
“Sure,” she smiled.
An hour later, he had changed into a pair of jeans, a casual light gray tee-shirt and his leather jacket and he had picked her up at her apartment. She had had the same idea of clothing, save for the V-neck shape of her tee that revealed a marvelous swollen chest and sharp and feminine collarbones. White was a great color on her; it made her smooth skin look more tanned and pink than it actually was. Or maybe her cheeks were flushed a little. Well, in any case, she looked more gorgeous than ever. Did she look a little anxious too? He wondered as she smiled back at him shyly.
Mulder parked in front of a crowded pub. “Have you come in this bar before?” He asked as he pulled the key out of the ignition.
A confused look on her face, she asked, “Do you mean Have I ever come to this bar before?”
“No,” he answered matter-of-factly, looking at her and trying to keep a straight face. She stared back at him, somewhere between disbelief and anxiety. He chuckled. “I’m kidding, Scully. Come on,” he said, getting out of the car.
“Oh my God, Mulder —” She breathed and chuckled.
It was crowded and hot inside. The air was humid and filled with masculine sweat, feminine perfumes and alcoholic vapors. At the back, on a small stage, a group of young musicians was playing live Celtic music. Mulder looked down at Scully as she was scanning the place, a soft smile curling up on her lips. Around them, people in their twenties and thirties were having a good time. They fit perfectly there; they were the invisible Mr. and Mrs. Everybody. He had had several ideas of a place for a date, from romantic diner to mystical star gazing, and ruled them all out one by one for casual beer and music after work. Not that he didn’t intend to (at least try to) show her tonight how much she meant to him, he just figured Spooky Mulder would be less freaky if it wasn’t too fancy.
Mulder squeezed her hand and pointed with his head to a raised round pub table and two empty stools.
Minutes later, they clicked their bottles together and sipped their beers. Their heads, shoulders, feet and essentially every part of their bodies subtly moved along the rhythm of the song that was playing. They glanced at each other, smiling. Awkwardly maybe. Now that he had her right there, he didn't know what to say. It had been so long since he had taken someone on a date, Mulder had forgotten this very detail: it was actually nice being able to talk to your date. That music was great, that wasn’t the problem, but it was so loud it made it impossible to have a conversation.
“Nice music,” he shouted ironically above the noise.
She raised her eyebrows. Not surprisingly, no. But a little painfully, he thought. And she nodded. Oh Geez, she nodded politely, he knew it. Fuck.
“I’m sorry,” he shouted again. “Do you wanna go outside?”
She nodded again.
As they sat on the edge of the sidewalk. Mulder sighed, holding his beer between his bent legs. He didn't mean for her to hear him feeling sorry for himself and he cursed himself for it when she leaned on his shoulder to sit next to him and asked, “What’s the matter?”
“I guess it’s been a while since I took someone out. I’m sorry, I suck.”
“You don't,” she said truthfully. She looked at him a little amused. “Or do you?” She cocked her head with something playful in her eyes. “The other question, Mulder, is do you think I swa-llow …” She whispered the last part in his ear.
Caught off guard, he jerked his head to gaze at her closely. Did she really —? She held his gaze a moment, not betraying any emotion anymore, and then she giggled against his shoulder. He blew out the air he’d been holding back. As she leaned back up to look at him again, she hooked her hand around his arm.
“Don't give me that look, Mulder; you started it.” She held his chin with her free hand and gently closed his slightly opened mouth and he relaxed and smiled. “You’re doing just great,” she added.
He wanted to grab this petite frame of hers, tightly press her in his arms and kiss her sweetly. She was so much more easygoing and devil-may-care than he was. He inwardly took a deep breath and tried to free-and-easily drink mouthfuls of his beer. God, it was hot out here. His mouth was dry like it had never been before.
“Tell me about this girl who didn’t run, Mulder.”
“Lean Sierra, 11th grade,” he replied heartily. “She was actually the initiator. She had loved my … spooky originality,” he smiled. “Her words, not mine.” She nodded knowingly, sipping her beer. “She was always dressing in black, and she had a nose ring and several earrings. People who opt for black in their outfit are often viewed as drop-outs, gothic or macabre. But she wasn’t any of those. She was nice and generous.”
He told her more about Lean and Scully talked him about Marcus as they emptied their beers. When he went inside and came back with two fresh bottles, he paused to look at her sitting alone on the sidewalk, thinking how endearing she was. He couldn’t believe that this amazing beautiful woman was waiting for him. She caught sight of him in the corner of her eyes and turned her face to him with a smile. He took the last steps that separated them and stood before her, handing the bottle to her.
“Do you believe in love at first sight, or do I have to walk by you again?”
She smiled and accepted the beer he was offering to her while he sat down again. “Small technicalities, though, Mulder: it’s not my first sight.” He raised an eyebrow. That was a tricky answer. Was there an underlying message there for him to gather? “What’s with your mood tonight? Are you blue?”
“No,” he replied, surprised by the question.
“I’ve never seen you like this. Well, maybe a little, but not this openly flirty. Are you okay?”
He chuckled. “Yes. Of course, I’m okay.” That wounded him a little to admit that he wasn’t taken seriously when it meant opening his heart to her. Maybe he was too playful? “I can’t flirt with you because …” he said, leaving his sentence open for her to finish it.
“You’re my best friend, and we work together.”
“So?”
“Well, I guess I always figured you considered me more like a little sister or something.”
“Really?” He asked, genuinely surprised. She nodded softly. “Whoa,” he said as he assessed her answer. “Why, no, I didn’t. Never have.” He grabbed his knee that was next to her and spun around to face her, pushing his bent leg behind her back. “Well, maybe not never. But when your cancer almost took you earlier and I realized I could have lost you, I realized … how much I needed you, how much I was a greater man thanks to you and with you, how much you meant to me. It made me realize … that you don’t cherish enough what you have while you have it and that it’s foolish to take everything for granted. That thought never even crossed my mind when Samantha disappeared. But you … You mean everything to me, Scully.”
“I know,” she whispered thoughtfully.
He didn't want to get emotional, but he needed her to know how she fit into his life, how much she was at the center of it. He figured she was lost for words but he couldn’t decide whether she was uncomfortable or fond of him or what. Her eyes were shiningly wet. “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he said apologetically.
“You’re not,” she said quietly. “I’m um, …” She coughed and tried to push back the lump in her throat. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”
She looked at him dearly, her beautiful blue eyes piercing his. He felt his pulse beat hard against his throat but his breathing was slow and full. He felt better now that he had spoken those words to her. Even if it led nowhere. That wasn't why he wanted to say it anyway. He lifted his bottle to his mouth and drank.
“Anyway, so … yeah,” he said as he pulled his leg out from behind her and settled himself next to her as he was before. She was processing his words in silence. He knew it. He had probably triggered some sort of a storm in her. A tsunami, perhaps. She surely had not expected this. He searched his jacket pocket and then opened his hand in front of her. “Seeds?” He said with a smile.
She covered his palm with her own and lightly tightened his hand as if she wanted to shake it goodbye. “Mulder, …” she started.
“Uh-oh.”
“No, I uh … I’m blessed. I feel fortunate to have met you —”
“But …” he interrupted her.
“No buts,” she smiled softly. “I’ll be the second girl who didn't run apparently. I just can’t … deny that these beautiful things you’ve said about me … are mutual.”
There was no smile on her face now. Her face had taken on a serious look. So had his. All their surroundings had gone silent and he could almost hear the steady ba boom of her heart matching his own.
He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and tilted her face up to him with his forefinger under her chin. They looked at each other, inches away, feeling each other's breathing brushing their faces. He tenderly laid his palm on her chin and bent down to her, hovering his mouth over hers in a chaste kiss while they closed their eyes. He felt very dizzy after a while. He gently nipped her lower lip with his and pulled back. He didn’t want to push his luck, couldn’t shake the idea that this was just the most awesome dream he’d ever had. Their eyes opened slowly and locked to each other’s again. They both smiled, blissfully, almost childishly. He had kissed her. He’d tasted her luscious mouth. Surprisingly, his heart beat seemed to have slowed down as his whole body was captivated by the rich and glorious sensation of the memory of their connected mouths.
“Breathe,” she ordered in a whisper against his ear, winding her arms around his neck. He gathered her in his embrace and closed his eyes.
“I feel …” He said, pulling back to frame her face between his hands and look at her flushed, beautiful face. “… drunk!” He finished.
“Well, then I can’t wait to take advantage of you.” She smiled, provocatively, and raised her brows.
Mulder caught his breath. Then he pulled her forehead to his lips before he stood up, wavering a little on shaky legs and reached out his hands to her. As she squeezed them, he gave a little pull and she was in his arms again.
“Where are we going?” She asked.
“I need to walk a little,” he answered.
He draped his arm over her shoulders and left their bottles on the ground. He had all the alcohol he needed right here. She wrapped her arm around his waist as they started walking.
At one point, Scully stopped them in the middle of the street and turned to face him, wrapping her other arm around his lower back.
“Mulder, you do mean the world to me too,” she said honestly.
He nodded. “I know,” he said simply.
He bent down and pressed his lips to hers and held her as close to him as he possibly could. This time, he wandered in and slipped his tongue in the heat of her mouth. Slowly. Tentatively. And as if to reassure him, she met him and rolled her own tongue around his. He felt her lips tremble against his and he tightened his grip around her back as all of his senses drunk her in. Their kiss was too soon interrupted by the sound of honking horns.
“Get a room!” The driver yelled angrily.
Mulder groaned and pulled back. He smiled at Scully, then hastily pulled her by the hand out of the road and apologetically waved a hand at the impatient driver.
“You wanna have the best sex of your life?” He asked her as nonchalantly as if he was offering another beer.
She giggled, dropping her forehead on his chest as he stroked the back of her hair. Then she smiled and lifted her chin to him. “Yes.”
“Okay, sorry for bothering you.”
He made it look as if he was walking away. He instantly came back, chuckled and gathered her face in his hands to give her a quick peck on the mouth, breathing her in. Then he took her hand again and repeated his need to walk a little.
They disappeared at the end of the street in the dark and the mist of the night.