A/N:
Title: Things That Make Mulder Wonder or The Enigma That Is Dana Scully
Category: X-Files (MSR)
Summary: A whole pile of post-eps for episodes in season 6 and 7 (not necessarily every episode), revolving around Mulder's thoughts, particularly about Scully.
Rating: PG-13 for some relatively mild sexual terms (this might change per chapter)
Spoilers: Spoilers up to seasons 6 and 7. You'll know if you read the title of each chapter which episode it pertains to.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters.
I started these a long time ago, part of my "old" collection of fanfics. I've found them, tweaked them a bit (if I could), and added a few episodes as inspiration struck. Some are better than others, but I hope you like them. Warning: they are pretty sappy, most of them.
Feedback is always much appreciated. Thank you in advance for any comments/criticisms. They put a smile on my face always. :)
The Rain King
No one can say that he is not creative. As he fills out the required forms for travel and expenses, he embellishes the possible fraud crisis in Kroner, making it seem imperative that the FBI step in and assist in any way possible, if for no other reason than to assure the public that the Federal Bureau of Investigation cares. It's miraculously signed off, and he calls Scully at 11pm the night before requesting she be waiting at her curb for him in the morning, bags packed. Their plane leaves at 6am and it is by no means a direct flight.
He sees her hesitation when they approach the small Cessna, and he lets her sit in the front so she can at least see out the window. Her sour face and refusal to speak with him tells him he's already in hot water. Things aren't much better when they land. He grins at her mistakenly being called the Mrs, and almost makes a joke about her attitude of late being in line with that of a nagging wife. Miraculously, for once, he bites his tongue.
She's more sarcastic than ever, and he's mellower than ever. It's a surreal case, and as she continues to doubt his theory he becomes wrapped up in a love triangle, or square, or some other odd shape with too many corners. He's not particularly flattered by the attention of Sheila Fontaine, he finds her over the top, the kind of agreeable woman that doesn't do anything for him. He likes his women a little feistier, a little more opinionated, less eager to please and more argumentative. He likes them less dyed blonde and more dyed red, though he's caught a glimpse and knows the carpet is a very close match to the drapes. A bit more study may be required to uncover whether the difference is significant.
He's always physically affected by Scully, but it seems more so in the sunny – sometimes rainy – state of Kansas. In Holman's office, she sits close to him. He knows it's a tactical thing, an investigative technique to make it seem like they are one unified unit. Despite her professional approach, he gets a bit personal and lets his thigh rest against hers.
They get caught in the rain, and he notices how her wet shirt clings to her body. Mulder keep his crotch covered as he watches her peel off her wet jacket. The body that she's hiding under those ill-fitting clothes….
He tries not to get distracted while she runs her fingers through his hair, on the pretense of checking him for injury (he's heard that line from her before). He's already checked with the motel office, there are no rooms, so he casually agreed when they offered to put his things in his "girlfriend's" room.
"Don't tell her I told you she's my girlfriend," he whispers conspiratorially. "She doesn't like to mix business with pleasure."
After she once again dismisses his theory as he sits on her bed with evidence in hand, she takes her pyjamas and heads to the bathroom. He hears the shower go on and has to work very hard to not think of her naked mere meters away. He distracts himself with more reading and sunflower seeds.
"Mulder," she says, a bit too whiney for his taste, "you're getting those shells all over my bed."
"I kept them on my side," he says in defense.
"Your side? Mulder, that cot over there is for you. This is my bed. It's not my fault a cow fell into your room. It's bad enough we have to share this tiny space."
"It's not my fault a cow fell into my room either! I hate those cots, Scully, they aren't comfortable. My feet hang over the edge."
"Well, I'm not sleeping on it, and you're not sleeping on the bed, so it's either that or the floor."
He grumbles and doesn't help as she wipes the bed of salt and sunflower seed shells. As he undoes his jeans, he hears her mutter something.
"What?" he asks.
"What?" she says, and he's instantly irritated. He strips off his pants, standing in just his boxers and a tshirt. She doesn't seem to notice.
"Turn off the light, Mulder," she says, climbing into the big, comfy bed all by herself. She's so small, an elephant could sleep next to her and have plenty of space. He does as he's told, however, but can't really sleep. He's not used to more than a few hours.
Instead of bothering her by turning on the light, he lies in the dark. He realizes the room smells like her, that unique scent that appeals to him and reminds him of late night stakeouts or long drives from city to city. It's comforting, he feels safe. He turns over to try to see her in the dark, but it's not easy with the moonlight behind her. He closes his eyes to imagine her, and falls asleep very soon after, hypnotized by her steady breath.
Morning comes and he's ready to go before she awakes and he asks if she'll pick him up at the station, he's got one more thing to do. Mulder didn't get to be the FBIs Golden Boy by being clueless. He recognizes the symptoms. Holman is a confused man in love who has a lot of doubt about whether his love is reciprocated. Mulder can relate. He may not have had a date in about six years, but he gets his fair share of female attention. He also has a subscription to GQ and Playboy, for two very different reasons, but he does read the articles on dating advice. He's more than capable of passing off a few words of wisdom.
Mulder is probably more surprised than he should be when Holman asks him how long he and Scully have been together, and how they translated a working relationship and friendship into more. Mulder is tempted to go along with the lie, but that's beneath him, besides the fact that Scully would – and could – kick his ass if she found out.
Besides, he doesn't gaze at Scully. He is a trained FBI Agent, schooled in the art of strategically schooling his features so as to never give anything away.
And just cause his advice to Holman doesn't work out doesn't mean he's clueless about women. He receives plenty of compliments from the 1-900 women he speaks to.
He also tries not to be peeved that Scully doesn't even question his liplock with Sheila.
The truth is that Mulder never really understood women. As he sways with Scully and watchs Sheila walk away, he is sure they have failed. By the time Scully is done with her, however, Sheila has seemingly changed her mind.
Mulder wonders what Scully said. He even asks her on the plane ride home, but she refuses to talk.
"What, is this some sort of 'girl code' or something, Scully? I didn't think you went in for that stuff."
"Not a 'girl code,' Mulder, whatever that is. Just sometimes a person needs a push to see what's right in front of their eyes."
"And you gave her that push?"
Scully shrugs, and goes back to her laptop. Perhaps Mulder is slightly out of touch when it comes to romance. He wonders if Scully will give him a few insider tips. Maybe Holman has a point. He did, after all, get his girl.