There is no time specification, nor are locations significant. Each takes place whenever and wherever your mind feels at ease.
Woven of Straw
"Did you know, Mulder, that there's something called a wastebasket on this lovely earth of ours?"
Mulder looked at the pile of sunflower shells sitting precariously on the corner of his desk. He waggled his eyebrows. "No, no, no, Scully, they're not wastebaskets. They're called waste bins, or trash bins, or trashcans, but I don't recall anything made to contain waste that's woven out of straw."
Scully snorted. "Remind me again why you can't get a date?"
"Ah, now, Scully, that's not fair."
"Fair is not my game," Scully said curtly. She pushed aside some papers to get at a memo. "We've got an appointment tonight with the astrophysicist."
Mulder sat up, folding his hands neatly in front of him. "That brings me to my second point."
Scully raised an eyebrow.
"I've got a prior engagement. I will not be able to accompany you on our appointment."
Scully's eyes widened in feigned disbelief. "A prior engagement, Mulder?"
Mulder nodded serenely.
"Uh huh. A date with your VCR doesn't count."
"Actually," Mulder said, slumping a little. "I've got a date with a person of the female sex."
Scully was caught by surprise. The cup of coffee she had been bringing to her lips slipped from her fingers and crashed onto the desktop, staining all her precious paperwork a dark, liquid brown.
"What?"
Mulder slumped a little more. "It's nothing, really, just, uh, a friendly dinner."
Ignoring the drip of hot coffee upon her pantyhosed knee, Scully continued to stare at Mulder with open incredulity.
"Really, Scully, just a friendly dinner. Nothing that big…" Mulder began to gather his things in a hurry: his tie hanging off the lamp, the shoelaces he'd been playing cat's cradle with by himself. He grabbed his briefcase, missed the handle, and lunged forward to catch the falling bag of sunflower seeds. Moving more awkwardly than a newborn foal, he snatched his jacket from the back of the chair, and, with everything else dangling from various pockets and limbs, ran out the door.
"Catch ya later, Scully," he threw breathlessly over his shoulder.
Scully sat frozen, jaws slack, listening to Mulder's footsteps and the ping of the elevator, the elevator that came and took her partner away. Why would he go on a date? Who was it with? Why would he go on a date with someone else when he had her, when he owned her, when she would do anything in the world, just to please him?
"It's not fair," she grumbled in a small voice, puerile, simple, unadulterated.
A/N: Comments?