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She knew it wasn’t a noise that woke her, but the fact that Mulder was gone from his bed and that she was alone. The thing that surprised her the most after crossing the line and entering into a relationship with Mulder, was how quickly she grew accustomed to sleeping with him. Literally, sleeping with him. He was the same in the night as he was in the day; he hovered too close, he clung too tightly, he talked too much, and pouted like a spoiled child when he didn’t get his way. But it was those pieces of her that subconsciously longed to be in his orbit and caused her heart to stutter whenever she lost sight of him that actually allowed her to relax at the end of the day, secure in the knowledge that he was there, even if he pestered her with whispered theories and fables in the dark as she fell asleep. The cadence of his voice was too much like a lullaby to stop him.
Silvery strips of moonlight slipped past the wooden blinds, casting a glow in the empty dent where Mulder should’ve been in the bed. She rolled up on one elbow, holding the sheet unnecessarily to her breast as she concentrated on the sounds in the apartment and letting her eyes adjust to the dark. The ceiling fan ticked softly above her and the faucet that Mulder still hadn’t gotten fixed dripped consistently like a metronome. And then she heard a click-click-click coming from the front room and she pushed the sheets away and crawled off the bed.
Her clothes were inconveniently tucked into drawers in his dresser and his were conveniently scattered across the floor. She stepped on the dress shirt he was wearing that day and picked it up. It fell off her shoulders, but all she needed to do was close three buttons at the chest and it was good enough so that she didn’t have to stroll naked through the apartment. Not that Mulder would’ve minded if she did, he would’ve been downright thrilled, actually, but she wasn’t quite ready yet to throw all modesty out the window.
Mulder was at his desk, hunched over his laptop, working by the blue light of the fish tank, when she crept out of the room. He was engrossed in whatever he was working on and didn’t hear her come up behind him. His shoulders jerked in surprise when she called his name.
“Shit,” he said, swiveling in the chair to face her. “I woke you?”
“Not really. What’re you doing?”
“You said that medical records showed our latest victim suffered from Lyme Disease before we went to bed.”
“Yes.”
“A tick-borne illness.”
“Where are you going with this?”
“You know what else is a tick-borne illness?”
“Not off the top of my head, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”
“Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever. Which victim number two was treated for last year.”
“So what’s your new theory?”
“I don’t know. That’s what I was up trying to figure out.”
Mulder turned back to the computer and Scully stepped up close behind him to look at the screen over his shoulder. He had a window open on types of ticks and the regions they inhabit. She put her hands in his hair and rubbed his head a little. He paused and closed his eyes for only a moment, but then leaned forward and went back to his research.
Scully sighed and rested her chin on the top of Mulder’s head and draped her arms over his shoulders. She drummed her fingers lightly against his abdomen and he didn’t even flinch.
“Come back to bed,” she said.
“Yeah, sure,” he mumbled. “Soon.”
“You can research all of this in the morning. Come back to bed with me.”
“Just a couple more minutes.”
“Mulder…” She nuzzled his neck and he tipped his head away. She ran her palm up his chest and he shifted his shoulders and wiggled in his chair. She kissed his throat and he air-kissed her cheek, but he kept typing.
Annoyed, and still hunched over him, Scully circled out from behind the chair and plopped herself down into Mulder’s lap. He had to bring his arms up and out of the way for her for a few moments and then he brought them around her waist and gave her a squeeze. She leaned in and nuzzled his neck again with the tip of her nose, from his shoulder to the back of his jaw. When she felt his arms loosen and move back to the laptop, she grunted and reached blindly for one of his hands, bringing it to her bare thigh.
“Determined, aren’t you?” he said with a chuckle. “Are you wearing my shirt?”
“I am.”
Mulder growled a little and lowered his head to her neck, pushing the collar of the shirt more off her shoulder than it already was. He placed tiny kisses on her clavicle and rubbed his cheek into her shoulder. Suddenly, he paused, and sat up again.
“Both the American Dog Tick and the Blacklegged Tick are found in West Virginia,” he said. “If we could-”
“We could wait until morning,” she interrupted. “The ticks aren’t going anywhere.”
“I’m just trying to find a connection.”
“I know, but even if there’s a connection there, we’re not going to find it at 3am and we’re not going to find it if we’re exhausted.”
“You can go back to sleep.”
“Not without you.”
Mulder pulled back a little to look at her face. Seconds later, he reached over and closed the laptop. He brought his arm under the back of her knees and heaved himself up from the chair, holding on to her tightly.
“Mulder! Put me down!”
“Where?” Here?” He relaxed his arms as though he were going to drop her and she yelped and tightened her arms around his neck. He laughed and strengthened his hold again as he whisked her to the bedroom. When he got to the bed, he lowered her gently and slipped his arms free. “Or how about here?” he asked.
Scully loosened her arms from Mulder’s neck, but didn’t let go, bringing him down with her. He lowered himself over her, down onto his elbows, and then rolled to the side behind her, back into the vacant spot he’d left behind. She turned and he wrapped his arms around her and twined their legs together.
“That’s better,” she said, settling into his arms.
“You don’t have to steal my clothes,” he said, plucking at buttons of the shirt she had on. “Clothes are optional here.”
Scully looked back at Mulder over her shoulder. “Says the man wearing sweatpants.”
“I was working. Didn’t want to be unprofessional.”
“I see.” She settled back down and he settled behind her.
“Scully, did you know ticks aren’t actually insects, they’re arachnids?”
“Mmhm.”
“They’re like tiny little vampire spiders.”
“Very unpleasant.”
He started to drone on and Scully quickly lost the ability to grasp what he was saying as she drifted to sleep. When she finally went slack, Mulder stopped talking. He slipped his arms free and rolled over to try to get some sleep himself. Seconds later, Scully rolled towards him snuggled into his back.
“Relentless,” he whispered, taking her hand and holding it to his chest.
The End