Time Period: season 7

Disclaimer: I don't own X-Files. Don't sue me, Chris.


The shrill ringing of the phone is an unwanted interruption to her peaceful sleep. It's Saturday and Scully has been rudely awoken by a ringing phone more times than she cares to recall. Nevertheless, she scrambles to the edge of the bed and steals a glance at the caller ID before putting the cell phone to her ear; it's Skinner.

"Scully," she answers. Some part of her hopes he can tell that he just woke her up.

"Agent Scully, are you with Agent Mulder?" He asks. His tone gives away no clues as to why he's looking for Mulder, or why he assumed that she would be with him at 9:00am on a Saturday.

She keeps her questions to herself and her voice indifferent. "No, sir. Are you trying to reach him?"

"Well, yes. His phone seems to be turned off." Mild annoyance. She breaths an internal sigh of relief. Mulder must have done something, but at least he's not "get your ass in my office right now" pissed off.

"I'm sorry, sir. I don't know where he is, but I'll go check his apartment and let him know you're looking for him."

"Thank you," Skinner replies. She takes that as the end of the conversation and hangs up the phone. Mourning her lost chance to sleep in, Scully sinks onto her back and lets her arm flop out to the side. Her wrist comes into contact with the nightstand and she releases the cell phone and closes her eyes.

It's not long before she feels the hand on her shoulder move, gently urging her to her side; a silent "come here." Scully complies and is rewarded with the feel of Mulder's warm chest beneath her head. His heart rhythmically thumps in her ear as her arm lazily slips around his torso. For the moment, she allows herself to revel in the comfort of waking up with another living, breathing human being.

"Skinner is looking for you," she mumbles.