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Morning, his place. Scully woke up to the sunlight gently caressing her face and the smell of freshly brewed coffee in the air. She yawned and stretched, turning to the empty but still somewhat warm left side of the bed. She smiled, thinking of the man who had spent the night there, holding her in his arms. Her lover. She still couldn’t believe it. Granted, it had only been a couple of weeks – busy weeks at that, they’d mostly been out of town on cases. Since that fateful day when they finally crossed that final line in their relationship, they had only been able to spend a handful of nights together. No romantic walks along the Potomac River and candlelit dinners but hurried kisses, breathy moans, and half-whispered confessions. Still, she couldn’t believe it. Seven years of yearning will do that to you.
It was the first weekend they were spending together. God, the way that thought made her blush – she felt like she was in high school again. Weekends didn’t technically start on Sundays, but they had just gotten back yesterday afternoon after a harrowing case that took them out of town for almost a full week. They had the next couple of days off to compensate for the overtime, which she was extremely grateful for.
The smell of coffee still lingering in the air compelled her to get up. Yawning and stretching, she started to slowly emerge from under the covers; unconcerned with her speed until she heard a loud crash followed by some muffled swearing. She frowned. The idea of Mulder trying to cook was alarming. She got up and looked around for some clothes to put on for a moment before settling on her discarded underwear and his wrinkled shirt – both lying on the floor abandoned during yesterday’s homecoming celebration. She groggily made her way out of the room.
In the kitchen, Mulder was humming softly to some imaginary radio tune and stirring a couple of eggs in a pan. The image of pure domestic bliss tugged on Scully’s heartstrings. He turned around when he heard her footsteps approaching, a sheepish smile on his face.
“Hey Scully. Sorry if I woke you up with all the noise. The pan decided to leap off the counter. It’s a mystery really, we should investigate it just in case it’s possessed by the spirit of some pissed off cook.”
At that, she snorted.
“Don’t worry, you didn’t wake me. You just gave me an incentive to get up. You’re making me breakfast?”
“Well, I know you. Wouldn’t want you to starve. And we’ll need some energy for what I've planned for us today”, he said, approaching her with a grin on his face.
“Is that so?” she asked, looking up at him through her lashes.
They kissed, and it felt like the world stopped for a moment. It was slow and sweet at first, until she opened her mouth to say something, and he seized the opportunity to slide his tongue past her lips.
She chuckled when they stopped to catch their breath.
“Careful there, Mulder. Wouldn’t want your breakfast to burn.”
“Hey, I’ve got it under control”, came his reply, feigning confidence until he turned back to look at the state of his pan. They did appear to be just ready. “Look at these eggs, cooked to perfection”, he continued, somewhat smugly.
He got two plates out of the cupboard and started assembling their breakfast, resuming his humming. After putting slices of bread in the toaster, he turned towards as he felt her approaching. His face suddenly changed. He seemed to be noticing her outfit – or lack thereof – for the first time.
“I gotta say, Scully, I really like what you’re wearing.”
She smiled sheepishly. Standing on her tiptoes, she pressed a kiss to his nose before returning to his lips. As she put her arms around his neck, Mulder seized the opportunity to grab her by the waist. She laughed into his mouth and settled her legs around his hips, gripping him tight until he settled her on top of the kitchen counter. Unperturbed by the change in location they continued their languid kiss, only stopping to catch their breath.
After a while, giggles turned into breathy moans. Scully kept scooting forward, bringing herself impossibly closer to him. Mulder’s hand found its way under her – his – shirt. It crept higher and higher, when the black smoke and accompanying smell emanating from the toaster made their presence impossible to ignore. He assessed the damage with a look of bewilderment on his face as he disentangled himself from her. Looking back at her, they burst into fits of laughter.
“Oh my God, Mulder! I told you it was going to burn.”
“Yeah yeah you were right. Always are.” He mumbled, resuming their kiss –
“Are you serious?” she shrieked. “The kitchen is about to burn down!”
Rolling his eyes, he stepped back from her and hurriedly unplugged the toaster. He cracked open the window before rejoining her.
“There. Now where were we?”, he asked, trying to regain his composure.
That earned him one of her famous eye rolls. He started laughing again, his eyes transfixed on hers. They couldn’t look away from each other.
“What is it?” she asked, noticing the sudden strange look on his face.
He paused, then said, “You’re my best friend, Scully.”
And she knew what it was. He is in love.