Relief
By Kuma
E-mail Snowfox4@bellsouth.net
Disclaimer I don't own Scully, Mulder, or Skinner. Fox and Chris Carter have the rights. (Although it would be cool to own them ) However, I do own Litson and any other characters that aren't related to the X-files. Litson is a place I made up in my own little mind. If there is any like resemblances to my made up town or people, it is purely a coincidence.
Author's note I have just recently gotten into the X-files "phase". Sorry if the characters don't seem anything like themselves. I'm only basing it on the very few episodes I have seen and all the fanfiction I have read.
Also, sorry if this is taking a bit long, but I'm trying to write an at least reasonable good story between going to school and work. Sorry!
Feedback Yes, please! )
I glanced at clock. Five minutes on the dot. I didn't take me a second guess to wonder who it was. "Yes?" I called out, just be sure. Despite that I knew it was Mulder, I still had to be sure. It always saved the both of us in the end to be sure.
A muffled, "It's me," floated through the door. I quickly recognized that it belonged to Mulder. I grabbed my black purse and opened the door.
I was greeted by the form that could only belong to my partner. Of all the times that I have seen him casually dressed, and it's not that often, I wonder how many times he has worn this outfit. Fit black jeans, black undershirt, and a black leather jacket. I liked his outfit. It made him look handsome, sexy. I stopped surprising myself a long time ago when I finally admitted to myself that I cared for him for more than just a friend.
Still, I always dismissed his flirtations and sexual banters, not only because of Bureau policies, but because I enjoyed having him hit on me again. I know it sounds a little shallow, even for me, but I needed it to remind me that despite whatever barriers I have put up to be tough, inside I'm still a woman. Although, I often wondered what would happen if I did. What he would say, what he would do.
So, when Mulder casually said, "Ready to go, hot stuff?", I slapped him lightly on the arm and locked the door behind me. I was aware that Mulder had just taken a shower. He smelled like soap, after shave, and his cologne. God, he smelled so good. I smiled as I breathed it in.
Mulder opened the passenger door for me, the perfect gentleman as always. I slid in and buckled my seat belt, relaxing in the softness of the seat. It was better than the motel bed, that's for sure. Maybe when we arrived back tonight, I'll ask Mulder for the keys and just sleep in the car.
I glanced at Mulder as he got in and snapped his seat belt close. I watched his strong hands grip the key, slide it into the ignition, and watched as his hand gave a little twist. I seemed to be doing that more lately. Watching him. Watching the way he moves, the way his muscles move.
Mulder looked at me as the car roared to life. "I saw this little restaurant a few miles out of Litson. It's not fast food and it's not a diner." He turned his gaze back to the road and started driving.
I smiled. Food for once. Real food. I was getting tired of the diner and fast food we always ate. "Sure," I replied with a smile. "That sounds great."
* * *
We didn't talk much on the way to the restaurant. Just about the case and if I found any physical evidence that could match both victims for a common killer. I hadn't and Mulder proposed a half-cracked theory, it surprised me really for him to have one so early, but I knew he was just teasing by his tone of voice and smiling when I countered his theory.
When we reached the restaurant, it was about a quarter full. "You know, Mulder," I said as we walked in the door. "I'm starting to believe this is the only good place to eat around here."
I saw Mulder crack a smile. We came upon the hostess and Mulder politely answered her questions before we could get a table. When the hostess lead us to our table, Mulder placed his hand on the small of my back, like always. I can't describe what it does to me. It can means so many different things. Times like this, he's being a gentleman, and he makes me feel respected, like he cares for me. He also does it when I'm sad or upset. There, it feels comforting. He feels safe when nothing else does.
A young, brunette waitress approached us. "Hi, I'm Karen and I'll be your waitress this evening. Can I order your drinks?" She said with a little too much pep. I spied her staring at Mulder and smiling a little too much for my liking. I admit I do get a little jealous sometimes. It was juvenile and stupid because he was only my partner and I had nothing to do with his personal life, no matter how many times he evaded mine. Yet, no matter how many times I told myself this, I was still jealous.
Mulder smiled at the young waitress. I saw his eyes dip lower from her eyes to her well endowed aspects that she seemed to love to flaunt. She wasn't doing anything but enjoying it. Right now, I'd like to smack that shit eating grin off of his face. "Yes," he spoke in a low voice. Any other time, the way he said that would of been down right sexy. But now wasn't any other time. "I'd like to have an ice tea, two waters, and a bottle of Pinot Noir."
I watched Mulder stare at the waitress as she left with a "I'll be right back." Like I said, too much pep. Mulder's gaze turned back towards me. "Wine?" He never ordered wine.
"I told you I was buying," he said with a smile. "And since I'm buying, I'm ordering some wine."
He was serious about buying. It made me feel like it was a date, but it wasn't a date considering the way he looked at that waitress. I looked back down at my menu and closed it. "I think I'll just have the rice and teriyaki chicken stir-fry with a side salad."
"Good, I can finally get you to eat something." He said, sounding too pleased. I did eat, but apparently not enough for him. I knew what he was talking about. I hardly ever ate anything but salads whenever we were on cases, trying to avoid the fattening and greasy foods.
The waitress came back with our drinks on a tray. "Here are your drinks and your wine will be served with your food," she said as she handed Mulder the drinks one by one. She didn't even turn towards me, only addressing my ogling partner. "Are you ready to order?" she asked sweetly. A smile like the grand canyon was stamped on her face.
Mulder gave a slight nod and gave her his menu. "I'd like the twelve ounce steak, well done, please. And also the side pasta salad."
"Anything else for you?" She asked, giving him a wink.
He didn't even bother ordering for me, that jerk. I took a deep breath to try calming my rising temper. I knew if I didn't control it soon, I'd blow it. I knew jealousy didn't become me. The waitress turned towards me, less enthusiastic about taking my order. I gave her my menu. "I'd like the rice and chicken stir-fry with a side salad, please." I was thankful that I managed to say it calmly.
I looked out the window. It was dark and I couldn't see anything much except the road lit by the street lights. I reminded myself that it was immature to feel this way. It didn't feel right. I didn't have the right to feel this way. I was annoyed at Mulder, pissed is more like it.
He had always held respect for me. Always being polite. I didn't know why tonight felt a bit different. I didn't know if it was because he was paying or because of the way he flirted with me earlier. But I sure as hell know that Karen, the waitress had a hell of a lot to do with me being annoyed.
I felt like someone was watching me. I stared outside the window a little harder. I couldn't be certain, but there, across the street, there was a sill outed figure.
"What is it?" Mulder asked with concern. He peered out the window with me. I looked at him and then looked back. Nothing. Just a bush.
I shook my head. "Nothing. I just thought I saw something." I sighed. I crossed my hands over my lap.
Mulder took a sip of his iced tea. "Is something bothering you tonight?" He could be so oblivious sometimes.
I shook my head again. "No," I replied with a sigh.
Mulder leaned back in his chair, relaxing. "I can tell that something is," he said, staring into my eyes. I hated it when he did that. It always made me feel guilty for lying to him, even if it was for my own good. "But if you don't want to talk about it, that's fine."
"Then why do you even ask if you know?" I questioned. I was getting more annoyed by the second.
Mulder hunched forward, putting the palm of his hands on the table. "I was trying to get you to open up to me. You don't do it often on your own, you know." He accused. "The only time you do is when you or I am hurt."
"Mulder-" I started to say, but he cut me off.
"I know. No personal stuff." He shook his head. "I always think I'm the one that knows you best, Scully. After all we've been through, after all we've suffered, you're still the only person I trust. But at times like these, I realize that I don't know a damn thing about you."
I let out a sigh. It was true enough. I didn't know anything about him, either. Just about work Mulder and I guess that's how he saw me. He only trust me and I him. Mulder had trusted me from the beginning. Blind trust was how Scully, the scientist saw it. Blind trust was only needed when you needed someone to trust. Someone to rely on. But Dana, the woman, considered it as a gut-wretched feeling. Something that had pulled them together. She knew this because she had felt it too.
By Kuma
E-mail Snowfox4@bellsouth.net
Disclaimer I don't own Scully, Mulder, or Skinner. Fox and Chris Carter have the rights. (Although it would be cool to own them ) However, I do own Litson and any other characters that aren't related to the X-files. Litson is a place I made up in my own little mind. If there is any like resemblances to my made up town or people, it is purely a coincidence.
Author's note I have just recently gotten into the X-files "phase". Sorry if the characters don't seem anything like themselves. I'm only basing it on the very few episodes I have seen and all the fanfiction I have read.
Also, sorry if this is taking a bit long, but I'm trying to write an at least reasonable good story between going to school and work. Sorry!
Feedback Yes, please! )
I glanced at clock. Five minutes on the dot. I didn't take me a second guess to wonder who it was. "Yes?" I called out, just be sure. Despite that I knew it was Mulder, I still had to be sure. It always saved the both of us in the end to be sure.
A muffled, "It's me," floated through the door. I quickly recognized that it belonged to Mulder. I grabbed my black purse and opened the door.
I was greeted by the form that could only belong to my partner. Of all the times that I have seen him casually dressed, and it's not that often, I wonder how many times he has worn this outfit. Fit black jeans, black undershirt, and a black leather jacket. I liked his outfit. It made him look handsome, sexy. I stopped surprising myself a long time ago when I finally admitted to myself that I cared for him for more than just a friend.
Still, I always dismissed his flirtations and sexual banters, not only because of Bureau policies, but because I enjoyed having him hit on me again. I know it sounds a little shallow, even for me, but I needed it to remind me that despite whatever barriers I have put up to be tough, inside I'm still a woman. Although, I often wondered what would happen if I did. What he would say, what he would do.
So, when Mulder casually said, "Ready to go, hot stuff?", I slapped him lightly on the arm and locked the door behind me. I was aware that Mulder had just taken a shower. He smelled like soap, after shave, and his cologne. God, he smelled so good. I smiled as I breathed it in.
Mulder opened the passenger door for me, the perfect gentleman as always. I slid in and buckled my seat belt, relaxing in the softness of the seat. It was better than the motel bed, that's for sure. Maybe when we arrived back tonight, I'll ask Mulder for the keys and just sleep in the car.
I glanced at Mulder as he got in and snapped his seat belt close. I watched his strong hands grip the key, slide it into the ignition, and watched as his hand gave a little twist. I seemed to be doing that more lately. Watching him. Watching the way he moves, the way his muscles move.
Mulder looked at me as the car roared to life. "I saw this little restaurant a few miles out of Litson. It's not fast food and it's not a diner." He turned his gaze back to the road and started driving.
I smiled. Food for once. Real food. I was getting tired of the diner and fast food we always ate. "Sure," I replied with a smile. "That sounds great."
* * *
We didn't talk much on the way to the restaurant. Just about the case and if I found any physical evidence that could match both victims for a common killer. I hadn't and Mulder proposed a half-cracked theory, it surprised me really for him to have one so early, but I knew he was just teasing by his tone of voice and smiling when I countered his theory.
When we reached the restaurant, it was about a quarter full. "You know, Mulder," I said as we walked in the door. "I'm starting to believe this is the only good place to eat around here."
I saw Mulder crack a smile. We came upon the hostess and Mulder politely answered her questions before we could get a table. When the hostess lead us to our table, Mulder placed his hand on the small of my back, like always. I can't describe what it does to me. It can means so many different things. Times like this, he's being a gentleman, and he makes me feel respected, like he cares for me. He also does it when I'm sad or upset. There, it feels comforting. He feels safe when nothing else does.
A young, brunette waitress approached us. "Hi, I'm Karen and I'll be your waitress this evening. Can I order your drinks?" She said with a little too much pep. I spied her staring at Mulder and smiling a little too much for my liking. I admit I do get a little jealous sometimes. It was juvenile and stupid because he was only my partner and I had nothing to do with his personal life, no matter how many times he evaded mine. Yet, no matter how many times I told myself this, I was still jealous.
Mulder smiled at the young waitress. I saw his eyes dip lower from her eyes to her well endowed aspects that she seemed to love to flaunt. She wasn't doing anything but enjoying it. Right now, I'd like to smack that shit eating grin off of his face. "Yes," he spoke in a low voice. Any other time, the way he said that would of been down right sexy. But now wasn't any other time. "I'd like to have an ice tea, two waters, and a bottle of Pinot Noir."
I watched Mulder stare at the waitress as she left with a "I'll be right back." Like I said, too much pep. Mulder's gaze turned back towards me. "Wine?" He never ordered wine.
"I told you I was buying," he said with a smile. "And since I'm buying, I'm ordering some wine."
He was serious about buying. It made me feel like it was a date, but it wasn't a date considering the way he looked at that waitress. I looked back down at my menu and closed it. "I think I'll just have the rice and teriyaki chicken stir-fry with a side salad."
"Good, I can finally get you to eat something." He said, sounding too pleased. I did eat, but apparently not enough for him. I knew what he was talking about. I hardly ever ate anything but salads whenever we were on cases, trying to avoid the fattening and greasy foods.
The waitress came back with our drinks on a tray. "Here are your drinks and your wine will be served with your food," she said as she handed Mulder the drinks one by one. She didn't even turn towards me, only addressing my ogling partner. "Are you ready to order?" she asked sweetly. A smile like the grand canyon was stamped on her face.
Mulder gave a slight nod and gave her his menu. "I'd like the twelve ounce steak, well done, please. And also the side pasta salad."
"Anything else for you?" She asked, giving him a wink.
He didn't even bother ordering for me, that jerk. I took a deep breath to try calming my rising temper. I knew if I didn't control it soon, I'd blow it. I knew jealousy didn't become me. The waitress turned towards me, less enthusiastic about taking my order. I gave her my menu. "I'd like the rice and chicken stir-fry with a side salad, please." I was thankful that I managed to say it calmly.
I looked out the window. It was dark and I couldn't see anything much except the road lit by the street lights. I reminded myself that it was immature to feel this way. It didn't feel right. I didn't have the right to feel this way. I was annoyed at Mulder, pissed is more like it.
He had always held respect for me. Always being polite. I didn't know why tonight felt a bit different. I didn't know if it was because he was paying or because of the way he flirted with me earlier. But I sure as hell know that Karen, the waitress had a hell of a lot to do with me being annoyed.
I felt like someone was watching me. I stared outside the window a little harder. I couldn't be certain, but there, across the street, there was a sill outed figure.
"What is it?" Mulder asked with concern. He peered out the window with me. I looked at him and then looked back. Nothing. Just a bush.
I shook my head. "Nothing. I just thought I saw something." I sighed. I crossed my hands over my lap.
Mulder took a sip of his iced tea. "Is something bothering you tonight?" He could be so oblivious sometimes.
I shook my head again. "No," I replied with a sigh.
Mulder leaned back in his chair, relaxing. "I can tell that something is," he said, staring into my eyes. I hated it when he did that. It always made me feel guilty for lying to him, even if it was for my own good. "But if you don't want to talk about it, that's fine."
"Then why do you even ask if you know?" I questioned. I was getting more annoyed by the second.
Mulder hunched forward, putting the palm of his hands on the table. "I was trying to get you to open up to me. You don't do it often on your own, you know." He accused. "The only time you do is when you or I am hurt."
"Mulder-" I started to say, but he cut me off.
"I know. No personal stuff." He shook his head. "I always think I'm the one that knows you best, Scully. After all we've been through, after all we've suffered, you're still the only person I trust. But at times like these, I realize that I don't know a damn thing about you."
I let out a sigh. It was true enough. I didn't know anything about him, either. Just about work Mulder and I guess that's how he saw me. He only trust me and I him. Mulder had trusted me from the beginning. Blind trust was how Scully, the scientist saw it. Blind trust was only needed when you needed someone to trust. Someone to rely on. But Dana, the woman, considered it as a gut-wretched feeling. Something that had pulled them together. She knew this because she had felt it too.