Work Text:
I have no idea when I wrote this vignette except that it was after ‘all things’. This was posted on my now-defunct website and never made it over to Gossamer to be archived. Original notes, disclaimer, etc. are included. This piece has been lightly edited and revised from its original form.
Spoilers: S7, specifically 'all things.' Post-episode fic, cuz all the cool kids are doing it.
Timeline: Takes place between 'all things' and 'Brand X.'
This is for Lisa, because she likes it when they talk.
Disclaimer: Are you kidding?? The suits can bite me.
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He twitched in his seat when she slapped her hand against the arm rest in obvious frustration. "What exactly is it you want from me, Mulder?"
Her tone was strident, impatient, and he felt a mirroring surge of irritability. "I want you to be honest with me, and with yourself."
"Honest about what?"
Watching the road from the corner of his eye, he shot her an incredulous look. "Jesus, Scully, have I been talking to myself the
last few minutes?"
"Look, I thought I made it clear I don't want to get into this right now." She turned away, staring determinedly out the window.
What she found so fascinating there was beyond him. It was pitch black outside the car and they just happened to be lost on a
country road somewhere south of Bumfuck, Nebraska. Not a lot to see besides endless fields and the occasional farmhouse.
His thumbs tapped mercilessly against the steering wheel, his fingers gripping it hard enough to hurt. "Then when?" he
demanded. "When are we gonna talk about it?"
Quietly, her words bouncing against the glass, she said, "I'm not sure we have to, Mulder."
"Wha, what do you mean?" he sputtered. "Of course we have to."
He focused on his anger, hoping to avoid the deeper sense of anxiety bubbling up from way down in his gut. He'd been patient.
He'd given them both some time to process what had happened the previous week. He'd even chosen this case-a shaky X-File,
to say the least-just to get them away from the familiar ground of home for a while. Just to see if getting out and blowing off the
dust would nudge Scully into some kind of motion.
After three days and two nights of fruitlessness all the way around, he'd pretty much given up and booked them tickets
home. Getting lost on the sixty-mile drive to the airport hadn't been in his plans, but he'd taken it as a sign to force her into
conversation. After all, she was a captive audience. No place to go but where they were.
"Why, Mulder?" she retorted. "Why do we have to do it now? What's so damned imperative about the situation that it can't wait
another day or two?"
Okay, that was it. He'd had enough. He hit the brakes and pulled onto the shoulder of the road. Loose gravel spun up from the
tires and raised a cloud of dust behind them. He threw the gear shift into park and twisted around to face her, the edge of the seatbelt
biting into his shoulder.
"Because a week ago tonight, Scully, I left you asleep on my couch and woke up later to find my dick in your mouth."
She was staring at him wide-eyed, right arm locked straight as she gripped the dashboard, still recovering from the abrupt stop
he'd made. "Now aside from my initial shock and subsequent arousal," he continued, "I just assumed the sex we had that night
signaled a definite shift in our relationship. Apparently I was mistaken in thinking such a momentous occasion might warrant
a discussion or two."
Her eyes glowed in the ambient blue of the dashboard lights. He watched as she slowly lowered her arm, blinked dazedly at him.
He realized he'd rendered her speechless, not exactly the response he was hoping for. Her tongue poked out and ran across her lips and
he fought the urge to squirm.
"Well," she finally murmured. "I see." She looked out the windshield for a second and then back at him. "All right, let's talk about it."
"Just like that?"
"Yes," she replied in a tone far too calm to suit him. "Just like that. Isn't that what you wanted?"
"Well, yeah, but..." he trailed off into silence. She'd done it to him again. He'd never figure her out, not completely. She had the
unnerving habit of zigging when he was expecting her to zag. There were moments when he almost missed his short-lived
mind-reading abilities: this was one of them. "But... "
"But you want to yell at me some more first?"
"Nooo," he snorted, "of course not. I just didn't expect you to, well, to-"
"Give in so easily?"
"'Easily' is not exactly how I'd describe it, but it'll do for the moment. Has anyone ever mentioned that you have a certain flair for
unpredictable behavior?"
That got him an interesting look, and he thought she might protest or even say something about the pot calling the kettle
black, but she didn't. Instead, she said, "I guess I like to keep you on your toes, Mulder."
"Yeah," he whispered with reluctant admiration, "I guess you do."
"So," she said, crossing her arms and leaning back against the car door, "you wanted to ask me something?"
He studied her face, trying to see what lay behind her mild look of expectancy. His search was futile. In the near darkness
surrounding them he couldn't read her expression well enough to tell. Maybe it was for the best. Maybe he could say what he
wanted to say without having to see any warning signs in her eyes.
"Well, actually, there're several things I'm curious about." He lapsed into thoughtful silence and she waited a few seconds
before prodding him.
"Go on."
"Okay," he said quietly, "I think I'm pretty clear on the why of it. And though I can't claim to understand all of what led to... well,
you know... I'm certainly not complaining about what happened."
"I'll take that as a compliment," she responded dryly.
"As you should, Scully. I mean, it was great. Just... fantastic." He found his thoughts drifting back to that night, carried along by
memories that could still make his groin tighten in response. He sensed her impatience and forced himself back to the
present. "But I digress. "
"Not you," she interjected, "never you."
"Ha, very funny. May I finish my thought now?"
She waved permission with a sweep of her upturned hand and wiggled into a more comfortable position against the door.
Mulder followed her lead and took a second to escape the confines of his seatbelt. He tucked his right leg under him,
hooking his foot behind his left knee as he shifted to fully face her. His eyes had grown more accustomed to the darkness,
granting him a better view of the woman sitting next to him.
"Anyway, as I was saying, I'm comfortable with the whys and wherefores, but I'm not so sure about what happens now. I mean, if this last week
is any indication, it seems you may have decided to stick with our previous status quo."
The next part was going to be harder. He cast a glance away from her, gathering a smidgen of courage before going on. "Now,
before you take this the wrong way, I want you to know this has nothing to do with my ego."
He glanced up and caught the look on her face. It was an expression he fully expected: wariness tempered with curiosity.
He scrubbed his mouth and forced himself onward.
"I'm just wondering if your, uh, lack of enthusiasm this past week has anything to do with my, um... with that night. Were you
disappointed? Because if that's what it is, I promise you, it'll get better. It's been a while since I've had to please anyone but myself and I don't
think it's anything at all like riding a bicycle. I mean, maybe it is something you have to relearn and... and... "
He had to stop blabbering. He was too busy watching Scully to keep talking. At some point during his confession, she'd begun to
smile. Only seconds ago she'd covered her mouth with a hand. And now he was hearing sounds coming from her that could only
be described as muffled snorts. Mulder didn't know whether to be amused or insulted.
"What?" Cringing as his voice cracked halfway through the word, he cleared his throat. "Scully, c'mon, don't laugh at me." His face
grew hot and he shifted uncomfortably. He blindly reached back and grabbed the door handle, unconsciously seeking a way out
of the situation. Away from utter humiliation.
She let a chortle escape and then bit it off unfinished. "Oh, Mulder," she sighed, "I'm sorry." She swiped a thumb under both
eyes and laid her hand on his knee. He jerked at the unexpected contact. "I'm not laughing at you," she tried to assure him.
"Coulda fooled me."
"I promise you, I'm not." She chased his eyes for a moment before he let her catch them. "I just find the irony amusing, that's
all."
"Irony?"
"If you had any idea how many times I've had the same thoughts the last few days... " She chuffed softly, a resigned chuckle.
"This is so very us, Mulder."
He was still trying to play catch-up. "What do you mean?"
"The way we sometimes work at cross-purposes. The miscommunication that occurs simply because we assume
instead of ask."
"I did ask, several times," he quickly pointed out.
"So you did, Mulder. And I'm sorry I let things get to this point." She lifted her hand from his knee and released her seatbelt,
sliding closer to him. "I'm sorry you felt you had to badger me to get answers."
He didn't consider a handful of simple questions to be badgering, but he was willing to let her comparison slide. At least
they were talking now.
Just as he was beginning to miss the warmth of her touch, she gave it back. Except this time, it wasn't on his knee, but higher up
his leg, more like mid-thigh. He gazed down at her hand as if it held the answers to all of life's great mysteries. Funny how such
an intimate gesture could be so immediately familiar to him. A single night's events had turned a friend's touch into a lover's
caress. Mulder wondered if it felt the same to her. He hoped so.
"I'm not very good at this," she told him when he finally raised his eyes to hers. "I'm not so sure you are, either. I probably
have seemed rather distant this past week, but you're not to blame. I'm just not quite sure how to go on from here, and I
panicked when you pressed me for answers. I became defensive there was no reason to."
She hesitated and he covered her hand with his own, his fingertips curling under and brushing against the soft skin of her
palm. She took in a long breath and continued slowly, "I don't... I don't know how to have a romantic relationship with you. I don't
know how to be your lover."
"You did a pretty good job of it the other night." He beamed at her as she offered a shy smile.
"Well, that's nice to know. But that night, Mulder, I wasn't doing a lot of thinking."
"Maybe not... but it felt good anyway, didn't it?"
She chuckled and he joined in, feeling an unnamed weight being lifted from him. "Yes," she admitted, "yes, it did. Really good."
"And we haven't killed each other yet."
"No, we haven't."
"And we've managed to work a case together, even though it was admittedly an exercise in futility."
"Intentionally so, if I know you as well as I think I do."
He smiled and conceded her point with a nod. "So, it doesn't seem like it's gonna be all that different, does it, Scully? And
besides, if you ask me, I think we've always had a pretty romantic relationship, although in our own twisted, special way."
"Now you're frightening me."
"Just now?"
The grin on his face grew wider when Scully leaned into his space and kissed him, drawing back almost immediately. "Thank
you, Mulder."
"For what?" His left hand played up and down her arm before sliding up her shoulder and burying itself in the silk of her hair.
"For being my friend," she whispered. "For being the one who was meant for me. Thank you."
He closed his eyes as he felt himself being drawn to the soft, inviting bow of her mouth. His lips met hers and lingered as he reacquainted
himself with her taste. Slow, easy nudges eventually gained him entry into her mouth and he stroked her tongue with his own. Tenderly, with
reverence, he welcomed her back.
He was shaky with arousal when he finally pulled away, and overwhelmed by the intensity of it. He cupped her face tightly and
studied her for a long time as he lost himself in the depths of her eyes.
"I love you, Scully. You know that, don't you?"
She nodded slowly as tears gathered in her eyes, stubbornly refusing to fall. "With every breath, Mulder."
He shoved the arm rest out of the way and gathered her in his arms. "Good," he crooned as he stroked her back. "That's good."
He hugged her close for a few seconds and then let go with clear reluctance. He didn't want to push it, didn't want to pressure her
for any more than she'd given him. Although they'd cleared a major hurdle, he knew there were more to come. It seemed
prudent to take things slowly if they wanted to make this new thing last. They'd taken great care to establish the strong
foundation upon which their relationship was built. Attentiveness and patience would ensure its longevity.
Mulder ignored the pleasant, persistent ache in his groin and settled himself back behind the wheel. Then he watched as
Scully finger-combed her hair and straightened her jacket and skirt.
"So, I guess we better get moving, huh?"
She glanced at her watch. "If we have any hope of getting home tonight, we need to get unlost in a hurry."
He sighed in resignation and began to reach for the seatbelt. But then he stopped short as Scully laid her hand back on his thigh.
He glanced over and found her looking out past the hood of the car. And then he spotted the tiny, secret smile on her lips and
allowed himself one more indulgence.
"Hey, Scully, will you answer one more question for me?"
The smile was still there as she turned to him. "Sure. What is it?'
"When are we gonna do it again?"
She gave an inquisitive tilt of her head. "It?"
"Yeah, you know... it."
The smile spread into a grin, and she flashed him her teeth. Then with the smallest movement of her head, she threw an
appraising look over her shoulder, into the back seat. Her eyes, when they reconnected with his, held an unmistakable
invitation.
"Seriously?" he asked, figuring it was too good to be true. She didn't respond to his question. She didn't have to. The way she
methodically began removing her clothes was answer enough.
It probably goes without saying, but they didn't make their flight.
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