PDX to IAD
Scully adjusted the soft carrier, checking on the puppy she'd stowed comfortably inside it before sliding it all the way under the seat in front of her for take off.
"I still can't believe you're flying that dog all the way across the country," Mulder groused. "There are plenty of fine dogs in need of adoption in DC. You don't need to go around swiping stray dogs from strange men on our investigations."
She furrowed her brow playfully. "I would hardly call it swiping," she huffed, checking her seatbelt.
"Oh, did you sign the adoption paperwork on that little guy? It all went through official channels?" Mulder knew full-well she hadn't. He'd seen her walk out of the animal control office with the pup, kennel and all as the police hauled off Kumail.
She pursed her lips, "But he's sweet, and he needs a home as much as any dog in DC."
"But to fly him across the country…"
"It's not that strange, Mulder."
The flight attendant wandering past to check seatbelts noticed the carrier, before Mulder could respond she chimed in, "Have we got a little pup in there?" she asked.
Scully nodded and smiled like a proud parent.
"This is my first on-flight pet," the attendant said with a bit too much enthusiasm. "It's a long flight for a little guy." Mulder shot his partner a glance out of the corner of his eye. "What's his name?"
"Pippin," Scully said at the exact same moment that Mulder said, "Daggoo." Now, it was Scully's turn to cast a sideways look at Mulder.
"We haven't decided on a name just yet," Mulder said with a saccharine smile.
"Well you just let me know if there is anything that any of you need." They both nodded politely as she wandered off down the aisle.
The smirk Mulder gave Scully needed no explanation. "Maybe she hasn't been doing this very long," she defended.
"Maybe. Or maybe you're crazy."
"I'm crazy?" she scoffed. "We haven't decided on a name yet? Where do you get off trying to name my dog?"
"It's a good name," he defended. "And Pippin, Scully? You can't name that poor dog Pippin."
"It's cute, Mulder. You think Daggoo is so much better?"
"Yes, it is. Much better," he said incredulously.
"Too bad," she retorted playfully. "He's my dog, I get to name him."
"Well, I'm still going to call him Daggoo," Mulder said. He stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled something out then bent to offer it to the puppy. "Yes, you like Daggoo better, don't you?" he said, letting his tone slip into the diminutive as he scratched the pup behind his ears through the small opening.
"What are you giving him?" Scully asked.
Mulder pulled a packet of treats from his pocket. "Liver treats," he held them up. "I'm going to make sure Daggoo likes me from the start. I'm not going to have another Queequeg situation on my hands."
"Queequeg was fine," she defended.
"Queequeg hated me."
She paused, "Okay, you're right, Queequeg was not your biggest fan, but my dog doesn't have to like you."
"You know, I'd prefer to think of Daggoo as our dog."
"Our dog?" Scully raised an eyebrow.
"Well, you don't exactly have the best track record with pets, Scully. I mean Queequeg barely lasted 6 months, and don't think I haven't forgotten about that Molly you let go belly up."
"Mulder!" she said, trying to hide that she was a bit hurt with a jovial tone. "I am perfectly capable of taking care of Pippin on my own."
He held up both of his hands defensively. "Sure, sure, maybe. But, I really think it'd be better for Daggoo to have two people to look after him. Besides, I'd win a custody battle for sure."
"A custody battle?" she echoed incredulously.
"You walked out of the animal control office, a crime scene no less, with a dog that you didn't so much as sign for. That combined with your history of short lived pets, I don't think it's going to look good," he said, teasingly. "I'll tell you what, just let me have him every other weekend and we'll call it fair." He bent down again and offered the puppy another treat. "You're going to love it with me at the house, Daggoo. There's a big yard to run in and squirrels to chase. Much better than Mom's stuffy little apartment. No, you won't like that place at all."
"Mulder, please quit trying to turn my dog against me."
"Oh come on, Scully. It'll be good to share something again. Plus, it'll make the transition easier on little Daggoo."
"The transition?" she repeated, hoping for elaboration.
"Yeah," Mulder toyed with a grin, "it'll be easier for him to already know the place and like me when you move back home."
Scully rolled her eyes. "I'm not having this discussion right now, Mulder."
"Okay, I'll just take that as a yes on the every-other-weekend idea, then?"
She took a deep breath as if trying to block out the sound of him. Bracing a hand on either armrest of her aisle seat, she leaned back her seat and closed her eyes. Just as she began to relax she felt a warm weight on top of her arm and a finger stroking the back of her hand gently.
She opened one eye to glare at him.
"Hey, middle seat gets the arm rests, Scully. You know that."
She closed her eyes again. "I'm not moving my arm, Mulder," she said flatly.
"Good," he replied, "neither am I."