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Pearls of sweat glisten on Mulder’s brow, and he brushes them away. Again. There’s no breeze here in the bullpen, just air that’s been here too long. Much like Mulder and Scully themselves. Everyone else is gone. Either stuck in useless meetings or safe from Kersh’s scorn. Right now it’s difficult to say what will make him crumble first: the heat or the boredom.
Scully is not affected by either infliction, or she’s much better at hiding it than he is. Her head is bowed down in concentration. He can hear the rhythmic sound of her fingers on the keyboard and the gentle scratching of her handwriting here and there.
What will happen if he disrupts her workflow? Only one way to find out.
“Hey, Scully,” he says, and she lifts her head. Today, she’s wearing glasses. A sight he never tires of. A lock of hair falls over the rim, and she swats it away, annoyed. That gives him a good idea about her mood.
“How about lunch?” That hadn’t been what he wanted to ask at all, but he wants to ditch the Hoover building. Find some shade, maybe share some ice cream. Maybe even find a new case. Though he doubts that Scully wants to go through Spender’s trash. He’ll pitch that idea if he can convince her to get ice cream. She loves ice cream, after all.
“It’s not lunchtime yet,” she replies simply, bursting all his plans like a bubble. So maybe she’s not bored. Deep down he knows she hates these assignments Kersh forces on them as much as he does. Unlike him, though, she will not admit it. At least not during official work hours while they’re sitting in the bullpen. Mulder has no such reservations.
“Aren’t you hungry?” He wheels his chair over to her. If any other agents were here, Scully would ignore him and Mulder would perish for sure. “We could get ice cream.”
“No.” Scully continues to type, ignoring him and his nudging.
“Aren’t you hot?” That earns him a glare. With her glasses on, her eyes look even bigger than they usually do. He grins at her, fully aware of what he’s just asked. “Well?” He wheels even closer so that their thighs briefly touch.
“Mulder, we need to work.”
“This is barely work. It’s boring. Who even cares? I bet even Kersh doesn’t. Ice cream, Scully. Gelato.” He winks at her.
“It still needs to be done. The work.”
“It’s too hot to think.” And she’s too hot for him to focus on anything else. That is something he won’t mention now. He can have his own secrets. Besides, he’s still on probation. Still trying to win her trust back. With Diana breathing down their necks, it hasn’t been easy. Scully not pushing him away is considered a win in his book.
“Use a fan.”
“You’re no fun.” He knows it’s a mistake the moment the words slip from his mouth. Scully throws him a look and he retreats.
“This is our work now, Mulder,” she reminds him. “I know you’d rather be- well. But this is what we’re supposed to be doing now.”
His curiosity piqued, he wheels back to her. He miscalculates his speed and crashes into her chair. She gasps and his hand lands on her thigh. It’s warm. Very, very warm. Her eyes drift down to where his hand lies still.
“I’d rather be where, Scully?” he asks.
She licks her lips, but doesn’t answer because they’re interrupted by none other than Langly storming into the bullpen. His sneakers squeak as he comes to a stop, his face so red it resembles a lobster’s.
“There you are,” he says, breathless. “We have a bit of a situation.”
“What do you mean?” Mulder asks at the same time as Scully says, “What kind of situation?”
“You have to come with me.” He doesn’t meet their eyes. “Before someone sees me. What you’re wearing is not ideal, but- there’s nothing to do about it. Come on.”
Mulder grabs Scully’s hand and together they run after Langly. No questions asked. At least not until they slip into an elevator and Langly catches his breath.
“Now talk.” There is no messing with no-nonsense Scully.
“There is a bit of a situation outside.” He cards his fingers through his hair, still refusing to look at them. “We, um, may have done something-”
“Stupid,” Mulder finishes for him, even though he doesn’t know yet what’s going on.
“I wouldn’t put it like that. I’ll let Frohike explain. It was his fault.”
“Why do you-” Mulder starts, but the elevator dings and once the doors open, the two missing stooges come into sight.
“It was not my fault,” is the first thing Frohike says. Byers runs a hand over his face and looks apologetic.
“We don’t have much time,” Langly reminds them all, already ready to run again.
“Time out,” Scully says, and everyone freezes. “Can someone explain what the hell is going on?” Mulder bites his lip to refrain from smiling.
“Well,” Byers begins and Frohike huffs. “I don’t know how to explain what-”
“It’s Mulder’s fault,” Frohike interrupts.
“I was working.” He can feel Scully’s eyes burn a hole into the side of his head. “I was at my desk.” That at least is true.
“That may be the case, but I didn’t know that,” Frohike says through gritted teeth. “You see, we thought-”
“You thought,” Langly throws in. “Just you.”
“I thought,” Frohike goes on, putting emphasis on the I. “That we were seeing you.” He pauses to point at Mulder. “Walking outside with… a person who is decidedly not Agent Scully and you looked a bit too chummy for my liking.”
Mulder winces. He doesn’t dare look at Scully. He doesn’t need to see her face to feel the shift in her stance. It’s easy to guess who they thought they were seeing walking next to him.
“And what did you do?” His question is more of a sigh than a statement.
“It’s warm,” Langly explains, and Byers nods. The man’s face is red, and he, unlike the other two Gunmen, seems to be embarrassed. At least a bit. “We thought we’d help you out.”
“By doing what?” Scully’s voice is wary.
“I may have thrown a water balloon,” Frohike says, looking at the ground. “I thought it was Mulder, okay? I thought he was back canoodling with Agent Fowley.” He lifts his eyes to look at Scully. “For you, Agent Scully.”
“And then what happened?” Mulder asks, in desperate need to shift the conversation away from Diana.
“I saw that it wasn’t you and then,” Frohike trails off and clears his throat while Langly scoffs.
“They didn’t think it was funny,” Byers adds. “At all. They may have declared that they’d, um, want revenge.”
“Where are they now?” Scully asks, turning around, searching.
“I can only assume they’re ballooning up,” Byers says.
“That’s why I came to get you. It’s war, Mulder. Since all of this is your fault,” Mulder tries to interrupt, but they won’t let him. “You have to help us. Agent Scully, your involvement is optional. It’s up to you.”
Mulder turns to her, and the gleam in her eyes tells him her answer right away. He bites his lip to stop himself from grinning. It’s war, indeed. Scully is a Navy brat. How many water balloon fights has she been involved in? Countless, probably. She is the best shot he knows. With her by her side, they will be unstoppable. That is something he knows for certain.
“Well, where are the water balloons?”
*
“This is ridiculous,” Scully mutters as they lie low, waiting. They’ve teamed up. It’s Mulder and Scully and Langly with Frohike, while Byers observes. Cold water drips from the small balloons. Scully’s holding one in her hand, her eyes fixed ahead.
“We could have just said no.” And he realizes they should have. What were they thinking, declaring war on Diana and Agent Spender? Kersh is just waiting for an excuse to punish them, to suspend them. Yet here they are, waiting to throw water balloons at fellow agents. And if Mulder’s honest, he’s excited for the first time today. This is what he wanted. Maybe not a water balloon fight, but it beats writing boring reports, stuck in the bullpen.
“You don’t know what will happen if we don’t help them.”
“Scully, it’s water balloons. Diana won’t-” She glances at him. Fuck. Shouldn’t have said her name.
“Won’t do what? Hold it against them?” Scully turns away again, looking out for their targets. He continues to watch her, knows he shouldn’t say anything, but can’t stop himself.
“You just want to throw one at her, don’t you?”
She is quiet for the longest time, seemingly ignoring him. But he knows his Scully. She’s dissecting his question, weighing her possibilities, her answer. All he can do is wait. With abated breath.
“Frohike thought it was you.”
That’s an answer he didn’t expect.
“He thought it was you and Diana.” She isn’t even looking at him, and still he can’t tear his gaze away from her. From the small smile that he sees playing around her lips. There’s sweat glistening on her skin and he wishes he could wipe it away. Lick it, perhaps. The heat is going to his head. And other places, too.
“It’s good to know whose side he’s on.” And that’s when she turns to him. With that gleam. With that expression he doesn’t dare judge. In case he’s wrong. Even though he doesn’t think he’s wrong. He’s seen it so many times before. She hasn’t said it, but isn’t this enough? Picking sides. To him, it was never about picking sides at all. For Mulder, there is only Scully. Diana is his friend. Or he thought she was. He still hopes she is.
But if he had to pick, if she’s making him pick a side now? She has to know he’s right beside her. Not just out here, but in everything. It’s her he wanted to kiss. It’s her he told I love you. It’s her who he traveled to Antarctica for.
For him, it’s always her.
“There she is.” Scully tears him out of his thoughts and brings him back to the present. Right. They’re in the middle of a water balloon fight. Scully was right: this is ridiculous. Except her body language has changed. She’s alert, ready. Determined. The tip of her tongue slips out between her lips in a moment of concentration. Mulder watches open-mouthed, mesmerized.
Diana doesn’t see them. She’s treading carefully, looking around. It’s almost comical. Almost. If it weren’t for Scully next to him. She lifts her hand, aims. There was never a doubt in his mind that she’d hit the target. What he didn’t expect was that it would hit Diana square in the face. The small balloon explodes in her face, and he hears the shocked gasp falling from her lips. Her expression is priceless.
But as amused as he is, his eyes wander over to Scully. The triumph on her face might just be the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
“You got her,” he whispers, overwhelmed by emotions he can’t place. He wants to kiss her. That is the only thing he can think about. He wants to kiss this woman who just threw a water balloon at another agent. She is the most serious person he knows. The most meticulous one, too. To think he thought today would be boring. It’s the heat. It’s got to be the heat engulfing them that’s lowering all his inhibitions. That makes him turn off his damn brain for once.
Mulder can’t stop himself from moving forward. Or maybe he could, and he doesn’t want to. His lips find the corner of her mouth and linger there. He tastes salt. He tastes perfection. It’s her. Already he knows he can’t ever get enough of this. She gasps in surprise, but doesn’t move away right away. Once she does, he smiles at her sheepishly. As if asking. As if wondering if he did good or bad.
“We have a water balloon fight to win,” Scully says to him, handing him a balloon. Her hand stays on his. “Everything else… has to wait.”
Everything else. There might be something else in the future. Soon. His heart leaps in his chest, and he nods.
“Hey, what are you guys doing?” Langly whispers with an angry edge. “We’re trying to win here.”
“I’ve already won,” Mulder says, grinning at Scully, and then they launch their attack against Diana and Agent Spender. He doesn’t know how this will end. It might get back to Kersh. Spender might run to him, have them suspended. But Scully’s cool hand is in his, and together they throw water balloons at these two other agents. If he’s not mistaken, he sees a smile on Diana’s face. Maybe even on Spender’s. And if not?
The only thing that matters is this: him and Scully, together against everything and everyone else. She lets out a laugh next to him, and he nods to himself before he throws another balloon. Nothing else matters right now. Only this.