Sisters

by Fleur-de-Lys1983

Melissa Scully drops in on her sister unexpectedly which leads to a relaxing and fun evening for the Scully sisters and for Mulder.

The chill of late autumn seeped into the edges of the evening, a crispness in the air that hinted at the early arrival of winter. Outside, the trees were nearly bare, their last few stubborn leaves clinging to branches before surrendering to the wind. Inside Scully's warm kitchen, the scene was a stark contrast to the cold outside. The soft glow of the overhead light bathed the room in a cozy, amber warmth, with the smell of fresh coffee lingering faintly in the air.

Mulder and Scully sat at her small kitchen table, the surface covered in a mess of paperwork, files, and notebooks. Despite the mundane nature of the task before them, there was a quiet contentment between them, an unspoken understanding that these moments—however routine or tedious—were valuable because they were shared.

Scully was absorbed in her work, her focus sharp and unwavering as she reviewed a particularly dense report. The tip of her pen occasionally tapped against the paper; her thoughts visible in the way her brow furrowed slightly. Mulder, on the other hand, found his attention drifting away from the papers in front of him and toward the woman sitting across from him.

He studied her in the soft light, the way the golden glow played off her auburn hair, how her eyes narrowed slightly when she was deep in thought. There was something mesmerizing about watching her work, her expression shifting almost imperceptibly with each new piece of information she absorbed. He'd seen her like this countless times before—focused, determined, every bit the brilliant scientist and investigator—but tonight, in the quiet of her kitchen, it struck him differently.

Maybe it was the warmth of the space, the comfort of being in her home rather than the sterile environment of the office. Or maybe it was simply that after everything they'd been through, moments like these—peaceful, ordinary—felt increasingly precious. Whatever it was, Mulder found himself wanting to capture the image of her in his mind, to remember the way she looked just like this, caught up in her task but with a calmness that made the whole scene feel strangely intimate.

She shifted slightly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and Mulder smiled to himself, charmed by the simple gesture. She was utterly unaware of his gaze, so completely in her element that it made him want to laugh at how easily she could shut out the world when she needed to. But more than that, he found himself marveling at how they had come to this—how, despite the danger, the darkness, and the uncertainty that followed them, they could still find solace in something as simple as doing paperwork together in her kitchen.

"Mulder, did you catch that?" Scully's voice broke through his thoughts, drawing his attention back to reality. She looked up, her eyes meeting his with a mix of curiosity and amusement, as if she knew he hadn't been paying attention.

"Sorry, I was… distracted," he admitted, a slight grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Scully raised an eyebrow, the corner of her own mouth lifting in response. "Distracted, huh? By what, exactly? These thrilling reports?"

Mulder chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "You know, for someone who claims not to enjoy paperwork, you make it look surprisingly engaging."

She smirked, shaking her head. "Well, someone has to make sure the details are right. I can't have you embellishing every other case we work on."

"Embellishing? Scully, I prefer to think of it as… enhancing the narrative." He leaned forward slightly, his tone teasing but his gaze soft. "But I'll admit, watching you work might be the only thing making this bearable."

Her expression softened, a quiet smile crossing her face. "Is that so?"

"Absolutely," he replied, his voice dropping to a more sincere note. "There's something… reassuring about it. Like no matter how chaotic things get, we can always count on this."

Scully's eyes searched his for a moment, as if weighing the deeper meaning behind his words. The warmth of the kitchen, the comfort of their routine, the subtle but undeniable bond they shared—all of it was captured in that brief exchange.

"I suppose there's some truth to that," she agreed softly, her smile lingering. "But don't think flattery will get you out of finishing this paperwork."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Mulder said with mock solemnity, though there was a glint of mischief in his eyes. He picked up his pen again, but his gaze lingered on her for just a moment longer before he returned to the task at hand.

As they resumed their work, the evening continued to unfold in its quiet way, the cold outside forgotten in the warmth of their shared space. And though neither of them particularly enjoyed the paperwork, the company they kept made it feel less like a chore and more like another thread in the fabric of their partnership—stronger for its simplicity, and all the more cherished because of it.

As the evening continued, Mulder and Scully found themselves slipping into a familiar rhythm of friendly banter. The conversation had turned to their latest case, with Mulder spinning an elaborate theory that Scully was half-heartedly refuting, a smile tugging at her lips despite herself.

"So, let me get this straight," she said, setting her pen down and folding her arms as she leaned back in her chair. "You think the suspect is actually a—"

"Time-traveling ghost," Mulder interrupted with a grin, clearly enjoying the absurdity of his own suggestion. "It explains everything, Scully. The disappearing footprints, the—"

Before he could finish, the sound of a key turning in the front door caught both of their attention. Mulder paused mid-sentence, and Scully straightened in her chair, her expression shifting from amusement to mild surprise. The door swung open, and in walked Melissa Scully, Scully's older sister, her arms laden with several grocery bags.

"Hey, Dana!" Melissa called out cheerfully as she kicked the door closed behind her. "I hope you don't mind, but I figured you could use a little restocking—"She stopped mid-sentence, her eyes widening slightly as she took in the scene at the kitchen table. She looked from Scully to Mulder, a flicker of confusion crossing her face before she recovered. "The infamous Mulder," she said, a smile breaking across her lips. "Long time no see. How have you been?"

Mulder, caught off guard but quickly recovering, flashed a charming smile. "Melissa, right? We haven't seen each other in a while."

As the words left his mouth, a pang of discomfort settled in Mulder's chest. The last time - the one and only time - he had seen Melissa was when Scully had been returned after her abduction—when every breath felt like a desperate fight to hold onto hope. The memory of that dark time, when Scully had been lying unconscious in a hospital bed, came rushing back, clouding the moment with a tinge of sadness. He pushed the thought away, not wanting to dwell on it, especially not now, but the weight of it lingered just beneath the surface.

Melissa's smile grew, and she shot Scully an amused glance before turning back to Mulder. "Now I know you work with Dana, who is stubbornness personified. So, you don't really know what to do here, but I play the role of maiden in distress to a T. So, if you don't mind…" She pointed toward the grocery bags still hanging from her arms, her expression playfully expectant.

Mulder blinked, momentarily surprised by her directness, but then his grin widened as he stepped forward.

As he began to rise from his seat, ready to oblige Melissa's request, Scully quickly reached out and grabbed his arm. "Don't you dare," she said, her tone firm but laced with a hint of humor. "She needs to learn how to be an independent woman."

Mulder hesitated, torn between his instinct to help and Scully's unexpected directive. He looked from Scully's hand on his arm to her serious expression and back at Melissa, who was now watching the interaction with mild amusement. His usual confidence faltered as he struggled to reconcile the two conflicting cues.

Scully, sensing his confusion, stood up and moved toward her sister, clearly intending to lend a hand despite her earlier comment. She reached for one of the grocery bags, taking it from Melissa's arms with a practiced ease.

"I thought you'd be at Mom and Dad's shindig tonight," Scully said, shifting the conversation as she began to unpack the groceries.

Melissa shrugged, handing off one of the heavier bags to Scully with a sigh. "I was, but you know how those things go," she said with a touch of exasperation. "I needed a break from all the small talk and figured I'd check in on you."

Her gaze turned to Scully with a knowing smile as she added in a fake posh accent, "One doesn't exactly expect to learn that one's own sister hasn't been invited to her brother's Navy hoopla."

As she spoke, Mulder watched the exchange, his curiosity piqued. The kitchen, warm and softly lit by the overhead light, seemed to hum with the tension of the unexpected revelation. The grocery bags, filled with various items, rustled as Scully began to unpack them, her movements quick and efficient.

Mulder stood by the table, feeling a bit out of place amid the familial banter. He tried to follow the conversation, but the context of Melissa's comment left him confused, unable to piece together the familial dynamics that were clearly unfolding. The warmth and ease of the sisters' interaction contrasted sharply with the perplexed look on Mulder's face, as he struggled to make sense of it all.

Scully continued unpacking the groceries, casting a quick glance at Mulder. "Our older brother got his first command. Youngest captain in forever or something. So, the navy is having some sort of ceremony for him and our parents are throwing him a party."

Mulder, taken aback, looked between the sisters, his curiosity piqued. "And you're not invited?"

Melissa gave a wry smile. "She was not just not invited; she was uninvited."

Mulder's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Uninvited? What's the story there?"

Scully sighed, leaning against the counter. "It's a long story. Basically, there was some family tension. I chose not to make a scene and decided to skip it rather than deal with… whatever's going on."

Melissa added, with a hint of frustration, "Yeah, they had their reasons, but when I learnt you wouldn't be attending at all, not even those ridiculous ceremonies that are so gloriously mockable, I left. I'd rather spend the evening here with you... well... the two of you.", Melissa smirked.

Mulder looked between the sisters, trying to absorb the nuances of the family dynamics. "Sounds like a rough situation."

Scully shook her head, her expression a mix of resignation and annoyance. "I was not uninvited. Bill called me and asked that I not talk about my career change. So, I told him that I'd rather not attend and he was relieved. He gets to enjoy his moment and I had a full evening to get some paperwork done–at least until now", Scully glances at her sister. "So, win-win", she cheered unconvincingly.

Mulder's expression softened, feeling a pang of sympathy for her. "That must be tough."

Scully shrugged, trying to keep her tone light. "After all, what's there to talk about besides the weather? So, I'd rather stay home."

Melissa nodded in agreement, glancing at Mulder with a knowing look. "See? It's better this way. At least she gets to spend the evening with someone who understands her work, even if it's just over grocery bags and mundane cases."

Mulder offered a comforting smile, appreciating the small moment of normalcy and connection amidst the awkward family dynamics.

"And you're right, Dana," Melissa said with a teasing grin after taking a good look at Mulder. "He is tall, and he does have great hair."

Scully's face reddened slightly, but before she could react, Melissa walked around Mulder, her eyes taking in the details with playful scrutiny. She then turned back to her sister, a mischievous smile on her lips. "But you're wrong about his butt. It's not a bad butt at all."

Mulder, oddly amused by the situation, couldn't resist teasing his partner. "You complained about my butt to your sister?"

Scully's cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red. "I said no such thing. I'll confess, I mentioned that you're tall and have good hair… to my sister in private, but I never said anything about your butt."

Melissa chimed in, smirking, "You did say Mulder was sweet."

Mulder's eyes widened playfully. "Ouch! Scully, everyone knows 'sweet' means 'bad butt.'"

Scully quickly shook her head. "No, it doesn't. 'Sweet' means sweet."

As they bantered, Mulder couldn't help but remember how easygoing Scully used to be before her abduction, how her sharp wit had once mingled effortlessly with moments of lightheartedness. There was something about this interaction, this playful exchange in the comfort of her home, that made him think that part of her was coming back. He found himself hoping it was true, that she was reclaiming a piece of herself that had been lost during those dark days.

Melissa leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "It's fun to see what it takes to loosen that stick up her butt, isn't it?" She then straightened and addressed Mulder with a cheerful tone. "Stay for dinner, Mr. Mulder?"

Scully shot her sister an exasperated look. "Wasn't there food at Mom and Dad's?"

Melissa shrugged. "There was, but I'd rather eat with the outcast of the family than with Charlie's new girlfriend—eight feet tall, blond, and leggy."

Scully rolled her eyes. "Great, another one of those." Melissa nodded enthusiastically. "See, this is why I need you at those soirees." - "To bitch about other people?", concluded Scully dryly.

To Mulder, she said, "You're staying, right?"

Melissa interjected, "Yes, and maybe you can help us reach that oven dish neither of us can get without a ladder."

The evening quickly transformed into a lively and enjoyable affair. In the cozy warmth of Scully's kitchen, the three of them busied themselves with cooking, chatting, and laughing. Melissa and Scully worked together seamlessly, their years of familiarity making the cooking process feel effortless, while Mulder pitched in, trying to keep up with their pace and occasionally adding his own commentary.

As they chopped vegetables and stirred pots, the conversation drifted effortlessly from one topic to another. They joked about everything from Melissa's attempt to navigate the grocery store with a rebellious attitude to Mulder's insistence that time-traveling ghosts were a plausible explanation for their latest case.

At dinner, they gathered around the table, the meal they had prepared together spread out before them. Between bites, they continued their animated discussion about the case, each one contributing their own theories and counterpoints. Mulder was particularly enthusiastic, and his theories about the ghost became more elaborate and inventive with each passing minute.

Melissa, ever the mediator, kept the conversation light-hearted and frequently chimed in with witty remarks. Scully, though still skeptical of the ghost theory, couldn't help but be drawn into the playful debate, her earlier annoyance forgotten.

By the end of the evening, the kitchen was filled with the pleasant hum of contented conversation, and the remnants of their dinner lingered on their plates. The atmosphere was relaxed and filled with camaraderie, a welcome reprieve from the usual tension of their work and familial obligations.

As they cleaned up, Mulder, with a satisfied grin, looked around at his two companions. "I have to admit, this was not how I expected the evening to go, but I'm glad it did."

Scully, with a smile, nodded in agreement. "Me too. It's nice to have a break from all the chaos, even if it's just for a few hours."

Melissa, wiping down the counter, added, "Well, we should definitely do this again sometime. I think we've found the perfect recipe for a good time."

As they finished up, the kitchen was left in a state of pleasant disarray, a testament to a night spent in good company, with good food, and even better conversation.

After dinner, as they sat back with satisfied sighs, Melissa turned to Scully. "Dana, do you know where my green silk dress is?"

Scully raised an eyebrow. "Yes, in my closet, because it's mine."

Melissa looked a bit sheepish. "Can I borrow it?"

Scully shrugged, a small smile playing on her lips. "Sure, it's in the closet on the right in my bedroom."

Melissa got up to retrieve the dress, leaving Scully and Mulder at the table. Mulder turned to Scully; his expression thoughtful. "I'm sorry about the soiree at your parents'."

Scully shook her head with a wry smile. "Why? You've clearly never been to any Navy hoopla. Those ceremonies take forever, everyone looks the same in those uniforms, and those stern looks never change."

Mulder glanced at Scully, his expression softening as if to say, you don't have to pretend in front of me.

Scully took a deep breath, her voice steady but revealing a hint of the emotions she was trying to keep at bay. "Listen. It's not a big deal. It's an important moment for my brother, and me not being some big-shot doctor after med school is a big thing," she trailed off, trying to ignore the noise Melissa made in her bedroom, knowing that she would leave it in chaos. Scully then added absentmindedly, "Clinical pathologists don't have the type of career that gets them a mansion in California and a Porsche in every colour of the rainbow."

She paused, then got back to her initial thought about not attending Bill's ceremony. "So… it's probably best for everyone that I didn't attend. And look at all the paperwork we got done."

Mulder grinned. "Quincy did fairly well," he teased, before becoming more serious. He reached out and gently grasped Scully's hand, sensing the unspoken tension beneath her calm facade. His touch was reassuring, a silent acknowledgment that he understood she was not as unaffected by the situation as she was trying to appear.

Mulder began to speak, his tone hesitant. "I—"

But he was interrupted as Melissa re-entered the room, holding up Scully's lavender suit with an incredulous expression. "Dana Catherine Scully, what on earth is this?" she exclaimed.

Scully responded matter-of-factly, "It's a suit that needs dry cleaning."

Melissa, still flabbergasted, stared at the lavender fabric in disbelief. "It's an actual color. It's not slate gray or heather gray or any other shade of gray or black, or beige. I mean, I'm not sure how well this color goes with—" she pointed to her own red hair, "—but it's an actual color."

Mulder, clearly amused by the exchange, chimed in, "And it shows part of her kneecap."

Scully turned to him; eyes wide with surprise.

"I'm not sorry for noticing," Mulder continued, a playful grin tugging at his lips. "It shows your figure too. You really thought you were just brains to me, didn't you? I happen to notice that you're beautiful. And while lavender may not be the best color for you, you have the same suit in burgundy, and it makes you look like a movie star."

Melissa raised an eyebrow, smirking as she looked between the two. "When did this all start?"

Scully, slightly annoyed to be the topic of conversation, pointed to the green silk dress in Melissa's other hand. "I've always worn colors, just not for work."

Mulder, suddenly earnest, added, "It started shortly after the…," he hesitated, choosing his words carefully, "Donnie Pfaster case."

Scully blinked in surprise. "Really? I didn't notice."

Melissa's face twisted in disgust as she recalled the details. "Was that the creep who cut dead girls' fingernails? And hair?"

Mulder and Scully both nodded quietly, their expressions growing somber as they mentally revisited the case. The gravity of that dark chapter hung in the air between them, unspoken but palpable, as they shared a moment of silent understanding.

Scully quietly asked Mulder, "Did I really start wearing colors after that?"

Mulder nodded. "You wore your red suit to the hearing. I'm not sure I ever told you, but I was in awe of your strength during your statement."

Melissa glanced back and forth between her sister and Mulder, trying to assess the dynamics unfolding before her. She could sense something deeper in their exchange.

Mulder noticed Melissa's curiosity and turned to her; his voice filled with genuine admiration. "I was so proud of your sister. I mean, that perv… He had killed and violated… and yet she stood there and faced it all head-on. Her strength was incredible."

To cover his sudden outburst of emotion, Mulder quickly added with a light-hearted tone, now turning to his partner, "And your skirts have gotten a bit shorter, and your suits are more formfitting now." When he noticed Scully's conflicting emotions about his statement, he added: "And no, it's not creepy that I noticed. I thought it meant that you feel more comfortable in your role as a field agent."

Scully considered his words, letting the realization settle in. His observation wasn't just about her wardrobe—it was about her growth, her evolving confidence, and how much he'd been paying attention to her, in more ways than she had realized.

Melissa, feeling a bit left out of the moment, decided to jump back in. "So, I'll borrow the green dress and those shoes over there," she said, pointing to a pair of high heels by the door.

Scully shook her head. "They don't go with that dress, plus they're really uncomfortable."

Melissa tilted her head, puzzled. "Then why do you wear them?"

Mulder, now intrigued, turned to Scully with interest, clearly curious about the answer.

Scully, caught off guard, pointed wordlessly at him, trying to deflect the attention.

Melissa chuckled, connecting the dots. "Yeah, the 12-foot guy with the great hair and the bad butt. You wouldn't want people to think he's dragging a dwarf with him."

After Melissa left, the kitchen felt quieter, more intimate. Scully glanced at the stack of paperwork still sitting on the table, untouched for the better part of the evening. She sighed softly and turned to Mulder, a hint of apology in her voice. "I'm sorry about the interruption. We barely got any paperwork done."

Mulder waved it off with a small smile. "It was a nice evening."

Scully gave him a knowing look, aware of the void left by his lost sister, Samantha. "Not too much sibling stuff?"

Mulder paused, the smile lingering but his eyes reflecting a deeper, more bittersweet emotion. He realized that he would never have moments like that with his own sister, moments of casual teasing and shared laughter. But rather than let the melancholy settle in, he forced a light tone. "No, just enough sibling stuff."

He smirked, trying to keep the mood light. "And hearing that sometimes siblings uninvite you from their parties makes me think it's not a bad thing not having my sister around."

Scully picked up on the subtle pain behind his words, her expression softening. She stepped closer, her voice gentle but firm. "I wasn't uninvited, Mulder. I chose not to attend so that nothing—good or bad—would distract from Bill's moment."

Mulder looked at her, appreciating the way she always tried to protect the people she loved, even if it meant sacrificing her own feelings. The room was filled with a quiet understanding between them, both aware of the complexities that came with family and the ways they each carried their own burdens.

Scully reached out and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. "Sometimes we have to make tough choices for the people we care about."

Mulder nodded, his thumb gently brushing over the back of her hand. "And sometimes, we have to take care of ourselves, too."

Scully met his gaze, a small smile forming on her lips as she squeezed his hand back. "We do, don't we?"

For a moment, they simply stood there, the paperwork forgotten, finding comfort in the connection they shared—a connection that had been forged through countless trials, shared losses, and the understanding that they were not alone in their struggles.

Finally, Scully broke the silence with a soft laugh. "Well, since we didn't get much paperwork done, how about we call it a night and finish this tomorrow?"

Mulder grinned, relieved by her suggestion. "Sounds like a plan."

As they gathered up the papers and began to tidy up, the weight of the evening's conversations lingered, but it was tempered by the warmth of their friendship, a bond that had grown stronger with every shared experience, every unspoken understanding.

At Melissa Scully's wake, the air was thick with the weight of grief, and quiet conversations murmured in every corner of the room. Mulder stood with Mrs. Scully, who wore her pain with the same grace she seemed to carry in everything she did. Her hand briefly touched his arm as she offered him a small, tired smile.

"That was a lovely story you shared about Missy, Fox," she said, her voice soft but clear. There was a warmth in her tone, a mother's appreciation for the kindness shown to her late daughter. "And I am sorry she teased you about your behind."

Mulder couldn't help but smile at the memory. It was one of those moments that, even in the midst of sorrow, brought a bittersweet sense of closeness and connection. "I'm so sorry for your loss, Mrs. Scully."

Mrs. Scully nodded, her eyes reflecting the depth of her sorrow. "Thank you, Fox," she replied, her voice trembling slightly before she steadied it. "Could you check on Dana, please? She always says she's fine even when she's not. She should be in the girls' room."

Mulder's brow furrowed slightly in confusion. "As soon as she comes back from there," he replied, assuming Scully had stepped out for a moment of privacy.

But Mrs. Scully gently corrected him, a faint smile returning to her face. "Oh no, that's not what I meant. 'The girls' room' is what Charlie used to call Dana and Missy's bedroom when he was a toddler. It's up the stairs, second room on the left."

Mulder's confusion faded as he realized what she meant. He gave Mrs. Scully a reassuring nod. "I'll go check on her."

With a final comforting squeeze of her hand, he made his way up the stairs. The house was filled with the quiet hum of mourners, but as he ascended, the noise dimmed, leaving only the creaking of the wooden steps beneath his feet. When he reached the second room on the left, he paused outside the door for a moment, steeling himself for whatever he might find on the other side.

Pushing the door open, Mulder stepped into the room. It was a space that felt suspended in time, filled with remnants of childhood memories, the echoes of two sisters growing up together. He spotted Scully curled up on the bed, her knees drawn to her chest, holding a small photo of herself and Melissa. Her back was to him, and the weight of her grief was palpable in the way she huddled beneath the soft blankets.

Mulder quietly moved to her side and lay down next to her, gently spooning her from behind. His presence was a comforting weight, an anchor in the storm of her emotions. He draped his arm over her and pressed his forehead against the back of her head, offering silent support.

"Scully," he murmured softly.

She turned her head slightly, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. The strong, composed agent he knew so well seemed to dissolve, leaving only Dana—grieving sister, heartbroken daughter.

"I'm fine, Mulder," she said, but the tremor in her voice betrayed her words.

Mulder tightened his embrace just a little, the warmth of his touch a gentle reassurance. "You don't have to be," he said softly.

Scully clutched the photo closer, her tears slipping quietly down her cheeks. "She was always the wild one," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Always so full of life. And now…" Her voice broke, unable to finish the sentence.

Mulder nuzzled closer, his touch a steady comfort as he spoke. "I know. But you don't have to go through this alone."

For a moment, they lay there in silence, surrounded by the memories and the weight of their shared sorrow. Mulder stayed close, his presence a silent promise of support through this painful time.

In that quiet room, Scully allowed herself to lean on him, finding solace in the simple act of being held as she let her tears fall.