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Outside of the x files, Mulder was a criminal profiler.
His job was to get into the heads of violent, twisted individuals, overwhelmingly males. While that evil head space occupied most of his work, he was still aware of the victims, overwhelmingly female. Victims of kidnapping, rape, murder, and even dismemberment had been a constant in his professional life. Over the years, he learned a thing or two about how people, especially women, can be impacted by severe trauma.
Mulder had thought about this facet of his career after Scully was returned from her abduction. It was possible that her mental state was going to be impacted deeply, and in ways even she was not aware of yet. Mulder worried about these things, at least a little bit. His worry was not due to a lack of respect for her abilities as an FBI agent, he knew she would be able to handle herself no matter what Duane Berry, while an evil bastard, was only one adversary. Mulder had seen Scully take on even more formidable foes, even saving his skin on multiple times. No, it was not worry borne out of professional concern.
This type of worry was solely personal. Whether it was because absence makes the heart grow fonder, because extreme circumstances push people together, or because she realized that life is too short to be untrue to one's desires, Mulder had no clue. But for some reason, shortly after her return, Dana Scully admitted she had romantic feelings for him.
The way she had done it, divulged her affection for him, would always remain clear in his mind. One rainy Saturday morning Scully knocked on his apartment door and informed him that she would like to pursue a relationship. Well, first she apologized for waking him up on the weekend and for the tracking mud through his building. After her unnecessary apologies she sought to woo him. Scully's words were direct and concise.
"I admire you in a way that surpasses platonic or professional affection. If you feel the same way, let me know. Otherwise, we can pretend this never happened."
Mulder readily returned her feelings, and their romance began. However, he had one stipulation: he wanted to take things slow. He confessed to Scully that while he had indulged in casual sex before, none of those escapades were able to evolve into anything real. He was a lover boy deep down and that he wanted to take his time cherishing Scully as a person before getting too physical. Scully seemed surprised by his earnestness, but was deeply flattered and agreed to his terms. Besides, she reasoned, it would make their investigations difficult if their dynamic radically changed due to sex.
All of this was true. Mulder did want to take Scully seriously. It would make things challenging at work if they didn't ease into sex. But, perhaps even more pressing than the other reasons, Mulder didn't want to scare her. There was no way in hell that he would put his new girlfriend in a situation with a previously unknown penis weeks after being abducted. Only a depraved sicko would value his own orgasm over a woman's safety and sexual security.
So their relationship progressed chastely for a couple of months. They got coffee together in the mornings, cooked dinner together on Saturday nights, and flirted more than usual during stakeouts. They held hands, Scully used Mulder's shoulder as a personal pillow during flights, and they kissed sometimes at the end of a date, but that was it. In honesty, there were times where Mulder had to restrain himself from getting too handsy during a kiss, but it was no big deal. He was an adult and more than able to stop himself.
Scully seemed content with the arrangement. She was happy Mulder when they were alone together, which was since she recently endured so much, was meaningful to him. She laughed at his jokes, she chatted during films, she even seemed endeared by his spooky rambling more than before. When she rolled her eyes at him, Mulder could tell it was with fondness. This was in stark contrast to how she operated when they were not alone. When she was with others, Mulder could tell his girlfriend was always slightly tense. She did well to hide it, and he might not have noticed the difference at all had he not witnessed Scully so unguarded.
For a two months things were going well.
Then Donnie fucking Pfaster happened.
Scully had been nervous the whole case. She was anxious to the point that anyone could see it, whether or not they loved her. Like an idiot, Mulder didn't comfort her properly when they were alone. He thought the best course of action would be getting this case over with as quickly as humanly possible and trying to distract Scully with other things. Puns, basketball games, whatever. In retrospect, he understood all he did was minimize her concerns. Mulder would regret how dismissive he was of her emotions for the rest of his life.
Pfaster took Scully. Gagged her, bound her hands, and stuffed her in a closet. He was going kill and rape her. Steal her hair and nails. He was going to destroy her. He would have, too, had Mulder arrived a mere moment later.
Suddenly Scully, his brave and wonderful Scully, was sobbing into his chest. She was the woman who got abducted and returned to work with little fanfare, who listened to theories about aliens all day despite nearly being killed by them, who could do countless autopsies without so much as flinching. And here she was, shaking with fear. The way she quickly let herself fall into Mulder's embrace made him so grateful they were taking things slow as a couple. He couldn't fathom how terrible if would be if they attempted to have sex and it went poorly, and Scully had nobody she felt safe with to comfort her in this moment.
Tears continued to pour from Scully's eyes as a female paramedic treated her cuts and abrasions. She mumbled apologies to the woman about not adhering to professionalism. The paramedic reassured Scully that health and safety were what mattered most, and swiftly finished up. The whole time Scully had been right beside Mulder, clinging to his arm. When cuts on the wrist she used to cling needed to be disinfected, Scully was visibly on edge. Her body reacting more than it should from the sting of saline spray.
Once the paramedic was done with Scully, the police chief came to talk to the pair. Scully stopped crying for this conversation, determinedly wiping her eyes and letting go of Mulder's hand. Perhaps the familiarity of dealing with colleagues helped. Perhaps she didn't want to seem weak. Either way, Scully answered a few questions about where she'd been at the time of abduction, and if she'd been hurt. Then the police chief let them go and said hoped to meet them sometime tomorrow for the wrap up.
Then Mulder and Scully were in the rental car. They were headed back to the motel. They were silent for most of the drive. Scully hadn't sobbed since the questioning started, her red and bleary eyes must have run out tears. When they pulled into the parking lot Scully finally spoke.
"Mulder, please don't leave me alone." Her voice was quiet.
"I won't," said Mulder. He squeezed her hand and parked the car.
Scully asked that they stay in Mulder's room. It made her feel jumpy that hers was booked under her name. If anyone wanted to find Scully, that's where they'd check first. The pair made a brief stop to grab Scully's pyjamas, then they entered Mulder's motel room. Mulder turned on the lights and the bedside lamp, figuring she wouldn't want to spend time in the dark. Then he stood looked at her, finally able to get a proper look in the light.
Scully sat on the edge of his bed, still in her street clothes. She had cuts on her face which the paramedic had cleaned and bandaged. Her wrists had been rubbed raw and were bandaged as well. Her blue eyes were red and raw from crying. Her face was pale and greyish. Mulder's heart panged. Her injuries and exhaustion were a curse from that disgusting man. Given the chance, Mulder would have punched the fucker's lights out. But he didn't. The police officers were there and his first priority was Scully. More than rage, more than revenge, what mattered was the victim. It was all about finding her and keeping her safe.
"Is it okay if I sit next to you?" asked Mulder.
"It's okay," said Scully.
Mulder sat down next to her at the edge of the bed. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around her. Scully sank into his embrace, hugging him back. For a few minutes they stayed like that. Neither one speaking. Mulder closed his eyes, drinking in the moment. He hope she felt the same relief he did.
"I feel so dirty," she eventually whispered. "I can't stand these clothes."
Mulder nodded and let go. He said he would go in the bathroom while Scully changed so she could have some privacy. Considering the circumstances of her kidnapping, he figured she wouldn't want to go into the bathroom without him checking it out first anyway.
His was cleaning his teeth when Scully spoke up from the other side of the door.
"Do you have a sweater I can borrow?" she asked.
Mulder quickly spit, splashed his face with water, and opened the door. Scully was in her usual thin satin pyjamas, her arms close to herself.
He said yes. The only hoodie he had was a thick blue one he'd slept in last night. It wasn't perfectly clean, but one wear shouldn't have been enough to soil it. He tossed it to Scully and she pulled it over her head, thanking him. Mulder also grabbed his sweatpants and a clean t-shirt, and returned to the bathroom to change out of his suit. He was so relieved to take off his tie. Special Agent Mulder was officially retired for the night. Boyfriend Mulder was happy to take his place.
When he emerged again, Scully went in after him. Mulder sat back on the bed and turned on the television. It was a rerun of Seinfeld. Elaine and Jerry were going to a Chinese restaurant and Jerry has a new suede jacket. It wasn't the pinnacle of television, but it was good enough.
Finally, she returned to the room, ready for rest. His hoodie was huge on her. Mulder smiled. It looked silly on someone so small, but it was warm and covered her up. That is, assuming cold and potential clinginess were Scully's problems with her own pyjama shirt. Scully then sat on the bed next to him. She asked him to turn off the television. He did.
Soon the pair were cuddling under the covers, the only light source the warm incandescent glow of the lamp. Mulder laid on his back, and Scully's head rested on his chest. He held her tight. This was the most physically intimate moment of their relationship so far. She listened to his heart beat and he breathed in the smell of her hair. To think, a few hours ago someone would have killed her for it. Mulder knew how lucky he was to be allowed to touch her at all in this moment. He wished he could hold her like this forever.
It was incredible, really, how quickly this woman had become a crucial part of him. In his eyes, she could not be separated from his very soul. As he laid there with her, Mulder was overwhelmed with love. He loved Scully with every muscle, every bone, every blood vessel of his being. He hoped she knew that.
"You're the only man I trust," said Scully, interrupting Mulder's thoughts. "Obviously, I can deal with other men. Men make up half the human population. But it's different with you. Promise you'll never hurt me."
"I will never, ever hurt you Dana Scully," promised Mulder. He kissed the top of her head.
Scully nodded slightly. "Good," she said.
One day, in a game of Russian Roulette with a man named Modell, Mulder would be compelled to pull a trigger.