Work Text:
"Scully, don't move!"
Mulder's voice is strident; not alarmed - he doesn't scare easy - but worried enough that she stops dead and stays stock still as he approaches.
His face is intent, his movements cautious, like he's trying not to spook someone, or something.
She tenses, pressing her lips together, closing her eyes. "What?" she says, quiet but urgent. "Mulder, is it on me?" Whatever it might be.
"Just stay still," he says, too firm to argue with.
She can feel him getting nearer. She's so used to his body in her space, the warmth of him; it's reassuring, and she unwinds a little bit.
"Right," he says, and she feels the puff of air against her mouth, he's so close.
"What?" she breathes, as he gently touches her cheek. She opens her eyes, then frowns; he's grinning and holding out his thumb.
"You had an eyelash," he says, with a wink.
"Mulder!" Damnit. Does she want to kiss him or shoot him? Maybe both. (Definitely both.)
He smirks. "Make a wish."
She purses her lips, glaring darkly at him as she blows the eyelash away.
"Whaddya wish for?" he asks, still smirking.
She raises one eyebrow. "You don't wanna know."