Radio Contest - Requested by observeroftheuniverse - July 22nd, 2019
Pre-relationship - "What's the sexiest thing someone could do for/to you"

When you spent your entire life looking for answers, when fate let them fall in your lap you learned to be grateful.

"Goooooood Morning! This is Q92.3 in D.C coming to you with today's hottest hits!"

She hadn't really been paying attention to the station, only letting it run as idle background noise as she drove to work. She heard something about a contest for basketball tickes, something about calling in, something about having to answer a question, blah, blah, blah.

"AAAAAAAnnnd congratulations, caller number thirteen! What's your name?"

"Uh, Bob," answered that familiar baritone she'd spent the last six years listening to. She felt herself sitting up straight in her chair as she listened to Bob come through her speakers.

"Well hello uh-Bob. Are you ready to answer an embarassing question to earn two tickets to the Knicks?" the announcer boasted.

"Hit me," Mulder replied. She could imagine him now, reclined in his office chair, feet propped up on the desk, absently playing with a pencil with his phone pressed to his ear.

"Alright. What is the sexiest thing someone could ever do for/to you?"" the announcer asked.

Scully jumped when a car behind her honked. She'd zoned out at the red light and had several empty spaces in front of her and many angry cars behind her. She drove while her heart raced in anticipation for Mulder's answer.

"Sexiest? In terms of day to day or in bed?" he mused. If she had any doubts if this was Mulder or not, which she didn't, this would have solidified it. If was so Mulder to have be specific.

"Hmm, let's go with the sexiest thing your woman does for you day to day," the announcer clarified.

Scully felt her face blaze up as she took the widest turn of her life without even recognizing it. If she got to the office without a ticket it'd be a miracle. Hell, a cop could be behind her right now and follow her for miles and she wouldn't notice. All she could pay attention to was how Mulder was going to answer.

"She listens to me," he replied sweetly, and she felt the corners of her mouth tick upwards.

The radio station played a dramatic "awwwwh" sound effect and the announcer quickly started talking on the heels of it. "No, no, no. That's not sexy, that's just nice. Come on. What's the sexiest thing your woman could do?"

"Flirt back. Ask me out," he stated confidently.

She felt her pulse quicken as she flashed her ID to get into the parking garage. "Ohhh, so she's not 'your' woman yet?"

"No, no. Not yet," she heard Mulder chuckled shyly.

"What's her name? How do you know her?"

"She's my partner, uh, co-worker. Her name's S-Dana."

She actually gasped, the sound piercing in the compact area of her car. He said her name. He actually said her name.

"Is she in to you, dude?" the DJ asked.

She pulled into a parking spot and didn't give a second thought to if she was crooked or not. She just sat back in her seat and looked at the radio in stunned silence. Yes. Yes she is, is the only true answer he could give.

"Um," then she heard him to that fucking little nervous laugh she did when he was putting himself down. Of course I do you idiot.

"I'm not sure. Probably not," he laughed.

"Mulder!" she groaned outloud in the car, letting her head fall back against the head rest. Did he think she just let anyone take her to the batting cages for hours? Did he think she just went over to anyones house for movie marathons? God for a genius he was really an idiot.

"Well, maybe you can take her to the Knicks game on Friday because cooooonnngratulations Bob! You've won two tickets with your embarassing honesty."

"Thanks," Mulder replied appreciatively.

There was a brief intermission before a Nick Cave song came on and she just sat there in stunned silence. She knew they were bad at communicating, but surely he knew she liked him? God, she felt like a kid.

"Flirt back. Ask me out."

She unbuckled her seatbelt with renewed enthusiasm and built up her courage the entire walk to the basement. Oh, prepare yourself, Bob.

When she got there, he was exactly how she'd pictured him. Reclined and lethargic, but with a smile on his face - presumably from being the proud owner of two tickets to a game. "Good morning, Scully," he greeted.

"Hi, Mulder," she beamed, sending him her warmest smile. The cheeriness of her greeting must've thrown him off because he spent a moment just watching her, observing a foreign species in an unknown habitat.

She'd really given herself a pep talk during her walk over here and she decided she wanted to lay it on right away and, if it went poorly, she could recover throughout today instead of mulling over her impulsive decision over the weekend.

She walked slowly over towards his desk, looking around with feigned intrest as she noticed his curiosity heighten. By the time she was close to his propped up legs, she raised herself up a bit so she could sit on the desk next to his legs. "Can I ask you something?" she asked softly, pretending that it was her who was self concious rather than admitting she knew he was.

He lowered his feet and rolled closer to her, looking up at her with intense concentration. "O-of course you can, Scully."

"Did you have a good time at the batting cages?" she questioned, playing with the corner of the desk, avoiding his gaze in fear she'd lose confidence. Okay, maybe she was a little self concious too.

"Why-," he began before instead saying, "Yeah, of course. I had a great time."

She nodded, taking this in. "Me too."

She chanced a glance at him and saw he was smiling softly at her admission. "Why do you bring it up? Are you coming onto me?" he joked, trying to ease the heavy tension blanketing them.

"Yeah, is it working?" she teased while gauging his face for a reaction. The tips of his ears turned red and it was painfully cute.

"Maybe," he shrugged with faux disintrest, reclining back in his chair.

"I want to do it again," she replied.

"Go to the batting cages?" he asked.

She shook her head and cotquettishly tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "No, um. If you'd be interested, I'd like to hang out with you again. In public."

"Like a..." he trailed off.

"Like a date," she confirmed, her stomach doing sommersaults as his eyes brightened.

"Really?" he asked.

"Only if you'd want to-"

"Yes. Yes I would," he nodded vigorously.

"Good," she beamed at him. They maintained eye contact for a minute before she cleared her throat and eased herself off the desk, walking around to sit at her chair.

"I, um. I promise everytime we go out I won't try to drag you to sport stuff, but I actually just got a pair of Knicks tickets? If you're free Friday?" he rambled, not wanting to say the wrong thing and have her recind the offer.

"It's a date," she smiled.

"It's a date," he repeated in near-disbelief.