The Monday Morning After By Rachiraptor

Rated: "PG" Category: MSR/V Disclaimer: They don't belong to me. I'm making no money with this. Yadda, yadda, yadda... Spoilers: "Millennium" Summary: Betcha can't guess. Short post-ep to Millennium

8:03 a.m. January 3, 2000 FBI Headquarters Hoover Building Washington DC

Dana Scully stifled the latest in a long series of uncontrollable yawns as she entered the basement office. After she had stowed her briefcase and hung up her coat, she proceeded to cajole the ancient electric percolator into producing just one more pot of much needed caffeine. Oh man, what a weekend.

Several bomb threats had been phoned into the Bureau on Friday night and Saturday morning necessitating full alert status at the FBI. All available agents had been needed to investigate the terrorist activities. Thankfully, only one out of the more than two hundred calls had produced an actual bomb--and not a very sophisticated one at that. Amazingly enough, violent crimes had only exceeded last year's total by a marginal amount.

No, the world hadn't ceased to rotate around the sun. Society hadn't been plunged into medieval darkness. Devices containing computer chips hadn't gone crazy and turned on their human owners. With the exception of some minor inconveniences and more than a few wackos and opportunistic looters, almost everything had remained exactly the same.

Scully had volunteered for the general assignment, grunt work as a means of keeping her mind too busy to think about *it*. The kiss. However, whether she wanted to think about the monumental occurrence or not, her memory played and replayed the events from last Saturday morning thus creating a continuous loop of introspective confusion. It was a puzzle she couldn't solve. Following another yawn, the image started again. At the stroke of midnight, Mulder had leaned down and given her a tender kiss on the mouth.

The world *hadn't* ended as they had transgressed the barriers long respected. The fear of the unknown, the ever-present here-be-monsters warning had always prevented them from venturing into uncharted territory. Now however, she wondered if Mulder had cast them both adrift on the seas of uncertainty. And if so, would their relationship be pulled under and consumed because of one brazen act?

O-kay, she considered, maybe "brazen" was too inflammatory of a word to describe the lingering but relatively chaste kiss that they'd shared in the long-standing tradition of ringing in the new year with a smooch. Maybe that's all it had been, a simple, platonic gesture of celebration. She was probably attaching too much importance to the deed itself. Mulder's probably forgotten about it already, she told herself briskly, embarrassed to still be debating the issue two and a half days later--two and a half virtually sleepless days later. Get over it, she chided as she opened her laptop. Get over it, and get back to work.

Mulder breezed into the office at 8:38 a.m. looking rested and disgustingly cheerful for a Monday. They exchanged quick hellos then lapsed into silence as they wrote their reports from the Millennium case. A few hours later, Scully exhaled a soft chortle, drawing Mulder's attention in the process. "What's funny?" he asked with a big toothy grin that caused her heart to lift.

"I was just thinking. Seven years ago, I would have considered the idea of raising the dead to be ridiculously impossible--except in a Biblical sense, that is. Now, I find myself wondering which term sounds the most professional; zombies, the undead, or ambulatory corpses with a propensity for gnawing on innocent by-standers." She smiled with resignation, returning her attention to her document.

Mulder teased from across the room, "You've come a long way, Baby." She shook her head in response and resumed typing.

As the day wore on, it became increasingly apparent that, like most everything else on the planet, their partnership had been unaffected by the temporary insanity rampant on the eve of the new century. Now, everything seemed to be business as usual. Scully should have felt relieved, happy for the sameness in her life. Unfortunately, with each passing hour, she found herself growing less and less satisfied with the norm. She might have taken a tiny bit of comfort if the man across the room who was eating his way through a palm full of sunflower seeds had demonstrated the slightest hint that he too had given this new development and the potential evolution of their relationship a second or two's worth of consideration. The more she thought about it, the more his not-a-care-in-the-world demeanor was really starting to piss her off.

By the time that five o'clock had rolled around, Scully had formulated self-indulgent plans that included a hot bath, a chocolate bar for dinner, a warm fire and a mystery novel as means of restoring some semblance of balance back into her life. As she stood to leave, Mulder stepped behind her and, in a surprise move, helped her on with her coat. She thanked him for his assistance and snatched her briefcase from the floor.

"Hey Scully," Mulder spoke softly into her ear, sending a shiver down her back.

"Yes Mulder?" She said just as quietly, tilting her head so that she could see him from the corner of her eye.

"I was just wondering."

"Just wondering what, Mulder?" she breathed and arched an eyebrow in suspicion.

He leaned in even closer, his lips almost touching her ear as he said, "Well, I was just wondering one thing really. Am I going to have to wait another thousand years before I'm allowed to kiss you again?" He *accidentally* brushed his lips against her neck as he stepped back. As he circled in front of her, Scully saw the boyish mischief and the hopefulness sparkling in his eyes.

Scully couldn't have hidden her astonished smile if her life had depended upon it. Puzzle solved, she thought happily then glanced at the floor momentarily as she tried to conjure the right response to his risky proposal. In the end, she settled for grinning back at him with eyes full of promise and returning, "What do *you* think, Agent Mulder?" With that, she headed out the door and down the hall, absolutely lit from within for all the world to see.

Fox Mulder stood in the doorway dumbstruck by what had just happened. When he could no longer see her retreating form, he stepped inside again, closed the door gently, then extended an arm in a punching motion before pulling it back to his side as he uttered a victorious, "Yesssss!!!"

He glided weightlessly to his chair, folded his hands behind his head, and propped his feet up on his desk. Yep, Mulder mused, this might turn out to be our best year yet.

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Did you enjoy this light snack of a story? If so, I encourage you to read my full-length X-files story entitled, "It's Easier to Believe". It contains a teaspoon of X-file plot, two heaping tablespoons of humor, and a generous cup and a half of romance and closure. It is listed on Fanfiction's site and at Gossamer. Feedback is appreciated, needed, and adored even. Please, please, please! I answer all e-mails and would really love to hear from you or read your reviews. : ) All comments to Fanfiction's review section and/or to Rachiraptor@yahoo.com .

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