-SCULLY-
What is wrong with me? I was doing so well at hiding my feelings for him, concealing everything that I'm bottling up inside me. I might've blown it with that one, very suggestive sentence. I could have spoiled everything that I have been working so hard to keep in check. As expected, with all this on my mind, sleep would not surrender itself to me.
I got up and threw on a sweatshirt, hiding the cleavage that Mulder had enjoyed earlier. My face flushed as I remembered the feeling of his eyes working their way up and down my body. I had gotten goose bumps. It felt like his eyes were slowly undressing me. I hadn't stopped him, I hadn't wanted to.
I padded down to the kitchen and helped myself to a pudding cup, chocolate, sugar free, and nonfat. Hardly chocolate pudding, but you don't get to looking like me by eating the real stuff!
I grabbed a spoon and dug in, pretending that the crap in my mouth tasted good. I swallowed and cringed. I never was very good at pretending. I heard someone coming down the stairs and looked towards them. Mulder walked down, in a t shirt and boxers, a hand ruffling his hair. He blinked upon seeing me and squinted, checking to make sure the dark wasn't playing tricks with his eyes.
"I'm here Mulder. I'm not a figment of your perverse and limited imagination." I said, smiling in the dark.
"About that; I lied. I have a photographic memory," he said, and had the lights been on, I would have seen his signature tease face; eyes, smile, tone.
"Well aren't you lucky then?" I asked, pretending that this information didn't unsettle me.
"Yeah, I am pretty lucky. So, what are you eating?" He asked, sitting next to me.
"Pudding," I said, taking another bite.
"You won't mind if I help myself do you?" He asked, already grabbing one out of the fridge.
"Umm, Mulder," I began, but then broke off, thinking about what a teenage boy would do if they actually ate something nonfat.
"What?" He asked, opening the pudding.
"Oh, nothing," I said, spooning more crap onto my spoon. He took a bite. He gagged and ran to sink, spitting it out.
"What in God's name is this?" He asked in between gagging. I laughed, dissolving in to a fit of giggles.
"That, Mulder, is what women eat," I replied, gasping for air.
"No wonder women look so good! They eat crap!" He said, sitting back down in one of the stools at the bar.
"No kidding. It isn't easy being beautiful." I said, taking another bite.
"You're telling me. You have no idea how hard it is to look this good all the time," Mulder said, primping his hair. I snorted.
"Oh, you poor thing, Mulder. You wake up every morning and shower, let your hair air dry, and throw on a t shirt and some jeans. That's your morning routine. It must be so hard to be you." I said, trying to sound as sincere as possible.
"Why Scully, I never knew you had such great insight into the teenage male mind." He said, trying to sound as surprised as possible.
"I'm sure there's a great deal about me that you don't know." I said suggestively, almost hoping he'd ask me something he shouldn't.
"Like what?" He asked, the same evocative tone mirrored in his voice.
"Like everything!"
"Then let's play a game, so that some of these mysterious skeletons are dragged out of Scully's forbidden closet. We'll ask each other questions, anything we want, alternating turns. You have to answer the question, or you lose. How about it," He asked. I could virtually hear the smile on hear his face in his voice.
"All right, Mulder, we'll play your game. You can go first, since you seem so eager to know everything about me." I replied, pushing aside my pudding cup and giving him my full attention, anxiously awaiting the beginning of our game.
"Hmmm. Let me see. I'll start out going easy on you. What's the worst trouble you've gotten yourself into?"
"Is that the best you can do? Let's see, the worst thing I've gotten in trouble for. I'd probably have to say this one time when my parents were out of town," I paused and he closed his eyes and nodded knowingly, as if to say, 'don't all bad things happen to teens when their parents are out of town?' "I invited this guy over and we had some fun and my parents came home and overreacted. We were sitting on the couch, half asleep, and my dad came in and just completely went off. I swear to God he had a heart attack when he noticed that my shirt was inside out." I laughed, remembering how fast the guy had bolted out of our house.
"So that's the PG version and that's what I'm assuming you told your parents. Let's face it; you know I'm not your mother or your father. So tell me, what really happened?" He asked, waggling his eyebrows at me.
I rearranged my face so that it would portray the look a mother would give a naughty child. "If I remember correctly, according to your rules for this game, it's my turn to ask a question. You already asked yours."
"Do you always follow the rules?" He asked suggestively, obviously referencing my answer to his first question.
"Didn't I just tell you that you already asked your question? It's my turn!" I said, admonishing jokingly.
"Then hurry up and ask!" He said, impatiently drumming his fingers on the countertop.
"Patience is a virtue, Mulder," I replied, dragging it out just to torture him.
"A virtue that I obviously don't have!" He snapped, his intolerance quite sincere.
"Pushy, pushy. Have you ever fallen for one of the girls you lived with?"