The Wrappers

I don't own The X Files or its characters. The X Files is the property of Chris Carter, and is not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought. This is for entertainment purposes only.

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Chapter 2 by Anarchy X-Phile

The next morning, Mulder got to the office early to make up for the time he'd missed yesterday. He also wanted to be the first one in the office- whoever showed up first and unlocked the office door always seemed to set the tone for the rest of the day, and he wanted to be in control again. And being in control on Fridays meant that he maintained the upper hand throughout the weekend.

Scully obviously had the same idea because even though he walked through the doors at 6:30, she was already sitting at his desk, midway through a cup of coffee. She had rolled the television set out from the corner and was reclined back in his chair, her feet stuck out in front of her and resting on the lower shelf of the television cart. She looked comfortable and completely at ease. Damn her.

A small smile lit up her face when he swung open the door and she got to watch his face fall when he realized that she'd beat him. "Good morning." She said, her greeting coming out more like a song than speech.

He glared at her. She was crowing.

"Whatever tape you found in that VCR isn't mine." He said, his hands going to his hips as he tried to keep the venom out of his voice.

"Good, because I put it back in that bottom drawer with all those other videos that aren't your's." She said, lifting her hand to her face and wiping a finger across her bottom lip as she tried to mask the anger coursing through her. Really? He was going to bring up his stupid videos this morning? The memory of him passed out on his couch last night was still fresh in her mind. A little too fresh because, honestly, she had thought about it too often since she'd seen him.

"Comfortable?" He asked, ripping his suit jacket from his arms and throwing it over the chair in front of his desk.

"Not particularly." She said dismissively as she cocked her head towards the television screen. "Have you seen this yet?"

He watched the footage on screen for a few minutes and shook his head. Spiritual Rape. "Don't tell me you believe this? Go through the case files-there's never been a single case of a spiritual sexual encounter that has been proven. They've all been debunked, nothing but hoaxes fabricated by people looking for attention."

She gave him a hard look and held her hands up, palms out as she stopped him from continuing with his rant. "Just because I'm sitting in your chair doesn't mean I'm going to start arguing your usual point of view. As for the cases being debunked-most of the cases in this office have been debunked or unexplained. What makes this case any more a ridiculous than vampires or UFOs?" Scully asked sharply as she sat upright, kicking her legs under the desk as she twisted her chair around until she was facing him straight on. "Maybe it's because I picked this case and not you, is that it?"

"If you want to investigate it, we will. But we will be wasting our time." He said as he grabbed the case file out of her hands and flipped it open.

"I'm used to wasting my time." She said before she could think better of it. She hurriedly lifted her gaze to look at him and could have sworn she saw a flicker of hurt flash across his eyes. Good. Let it hurt.

He finally figured out that she wasn't going to vacate his seat anytime soon so he plopped down in the spare chair she normally sat in and reached up to loosen his tie. Well, at least they would be on a case this weekend. Meaning Scully wouldn't be bringing back random men to her apartment.

He glared at her across the top of the folder and tried to pick out anything unusual-any feature or indication that she'd slept with half the men in DC since he had last saw her; never mind that she wasn't the type of woman to sleep with strangers. But, then again, maybe he didn't know her as well as he had thought he did. He had assumed that she hadn't slept with someone in years-but that assumption blew up in face when he discovered "the problem."

"Do you want me to requisition the car?" She asked a few minutes later as she looked at him over the rim of her reading glasses.

"I can handle it." He said, slinging the case file back on the desk and ignoring the way the glasses made her look both intelligent and sexy at the same time.

"Yes, well you've had lots of practice handling things lately, haven't you?" She ripped her glasses off and stood up; she watched as he mirrored her movements and she felt completely ridiculous when he stood and towered over her. She narrowed her eyes and refused to back down; they were both leaning in slightly and their faces were inches apart. She could feel his breath occasionally whisk by her cheek and she fought against the desire pooling in her belly.

"Is that supposed to mean something to me?" He finally asked, brows furrowed as he tried to figure out what she'd meant. She rarely got mad, and even rarer would she fight back, and still rarer were the times when she instigated the fight. And that seemed like exactly what she was trying to do.

"Just forget it, Mulder. I'll take care of the car." She replied, breaking their intense stare as she stepped away from the desk and started for the door.

She sucked in a deep breath when she felt his long fingers wrap around her wrist and force her to stop walking. She whirled around, ready to jerk her arm out of his grasp but stopped moving entirely when she saw his dark eyes staring down at her. "I said I would handle it." Her lips parted and her tongue quickly swiped against her lower lip, making his eyes grow even darker. He stepped closer to her and began pulling on her arm, she dropped her eyes down to look at the hand gripping her arm; her change of attention must have pulled him out of whatever thoughts he was having because he let go of her and took a step back, running his other hand through his hair and dropping his eyes to the floor. "I'll pick you up at your apartment in a couple hours." He started for the door but stopped after he'd opened the door, "will that work for you?"

Her face was blank, her brain still focused on making sense of the fire burning in her belly. She slowly turned around and looked at him, not saying anything or nodding her head. He seemed to know her answer anyways because he nodded his head and left the office.

As soon as the door closed behind him, she let her shoulders sag slightly as she put her hands on the top desk, catching her breath. She saw his coat still laying on the back of the chair where he'd forgotten it. She picked it up and ran her fingers across the fabric, lifting it towards her face so she could smell him. When her hands were a foot away from her face, she forced herself to stop. This was Mulder-she did not just go around smelling his clothes. There was no reason that she should find comfort in his scent; there was no reason she should feel light headed when she finally got to touch his clothing, of course it wasn't as good as it would be if he was still in his clothes...

"Dana, just stop." She said to herself.

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"You've had lots of practice handling things lately, haven't you?" Mulder mimicked in a high voice as he packed all his clean suits. He rolled his eyes and stomped over to his dresser.

Why was Scully mad? He was the only that had a reason to be angry.

He had thought there was something between them-it was there, he knew she felt it too; of course, they had never talked about it, or expressed it through any kind of action... but there had been looks, glances, even the occasional not-quite-so-innocent smile passed between them. They had been spending a majority of their personal time together as well and while he wouldn't describe any of their evenings as "romantic," he would say that the time they spent together was happy... and that was something he needed in his life.

Mulder stopped packing long enough to appreciate each of these facts before he came to his decision:

If he wanted to keep being happy, he needed to continue spending his evenings with Scully; and if she needed sex to be happy-well, then that's how their evenings would be spent. If he got an certain amount of pleasure through sex, then so be it, but it was completely for her. He'd much rather her be sleeping with him than for her to invite random men into her apartment. He didn't trust them, they could hurt her.

"I'm doing this for her." He said to himself, ensuring that the excitement he felt from the thought of being intimate with her was hidden completely from his voice. He caught sight of his face in the bathroom mirror and chuckled at the goofy grin on his face. With a bit of luck and some carefully placed innuendos, he'd be making Scully very happy tonight.