Scully slowly stirred awake, the soft morning light filtering through the curtains, casting a gentle glow across the room. She blinked a few times, gradually becoming aware of her surroundings. It didn't take long to realize she wasn't in her own bed. Instead, she was lying on Mulder's couch, wrapped snugly in a thick blanket.
She glanced down and noticed that she was dressed only in her slip, pantyhose and underwear, her clothes from the previous night nowhere to be seen. The memory of how she ended up there came flooding back. She had come over to Mulder's apartment to tackle some paperwork. What had started as a mild autumn evening quickly escalated into a full-blown storm, with rain and wind battering against the windows. Mulder, ever the gentleman, had insisted she stay the night, not wanting her to brave the treacherous weather. "I don't want to find out tomorrow that you've been swept away to Oz," he'd said with a half-serious smile, leaving her no room to argue.
Now, as she took in the scene, Scully noticed something on the coffee table beside her. Neatly folded and placed with care was one of Mulder's cardigans, soft and inviting. Beside it was a pair of thick, woolen socks. The sight made her smile. Even in the smallest details, Mulder had thought of her comfort. He always seemed to know just what she needed.
She reached for the cardigan, slipping it on and feeling an immediate sense of warmth and comfort as his familiar scent surrounded her. The fabric was worn, slightly oversized, and the sleeves hung past her wrists, but it felt perfect. She then pulled on the socks, the thick wool warming her feet against the cool morning air.
As she settled back into the couch for a moment, wrapped in Mulder's thoughtful offerings, she couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth and affection for the man who had taken such care to make sure she was comfortable. The storm outside may have been fierce, but inside, she felt completely at ease, knowing that Mulder was always looking out for her in his own unique way.
Scully stood in Mulder's living room, wrapped in the cozy cardigan and warm socks he had thoughtfully left for her. The thick blanket that had kept her warm through the night was now draped over the back of the couch. As she moved around, the events of the previous evening began to filter back into her mind.
She had come over to his place to tackle a mountain of paperwork, their usual banter keeping the monotony at bay. Outside, the autumn storm had grown more intense, rain pounding against the windows as the wind howled through the trees. Mulder had made a joke about not wanting her to get swept away to Oz, insisting she stay the night.
The memory brought a smile to her lips, but what came next made her pause. After the paperwork had been abandoned, they had decided to watch a movie. It was one of those obscure old sci-fi films Mulder loved, and they had settled in on the couch, the storm outside creating the perfect backdrop.
At some point during the movie, Mulder had turned to her, his usual teasing smile giving way to something more serious. Without saying a word, he had leaned in and kissed her. The kiss had quickly deepened, and before she knew it, they were making out on his couch, the movie completely forgotten.
Scully's heart fluttered as she recalled the feel of his hands in her hair, the way her fingers had gripped the front of his shirt. It was a moment they had both seemed to want for a long time, but had always danced around. The intensity of it had surprised her, and now, standing in the quiet morning light, she felt a mix of excitement and uncertainty about what this meant for them going forward.
Scully was pulled from her thoughts by the sound of faint music and the mouthwatering aroma of something cooking. Curious, she followed the scent toward the kitchen. As she approached, she could hear Mulder humming along to a familiar tune, his voice occasionally breaking into a playful, off-key rendition of the lyrics.
When she reached the doorway, she found Mulder standing at the stove, wearing nothing but his pajama bottoms, his hair endearingly tousled. He was swaying slightly to the music, every so often using the spatula in his hand as a makeshift microphone, singing into it with a level of enthusiasm that made her smile.
Mulder must have sensed her presence, because he turned around, his face lighting up as he saw her standing there. "Hey there, sunshine," he greeted warmly, stepping forward with an easy grace. "Did you sleep well?"
Before she could answer, he closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, the simple gesture filled with a sweetness that made her heart flutter.
"I made breakfast," he announced proudly, gesturing toward the stove where something was sizzling in a pan.
Scully smiled up at him, feeling the warmth of his embrace lingering even as he stepped back to tend to the food. She watched as he carefully scooped something from the pan onto two plates. His concentration was almost comical, his brow furrowed in a way that told her things hadn't gone quite as planned.
Mulder turned around and placed the plates on the small table, then looked at her with a sheepish grin. "So, I was *trying* to make you an omelette," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck with a hint of embarrassment. "But, uh, it didn't exactly go as planned. Turns out flipping an omelette is harder than it looks."
Scully glanced down at her plate. What should have been an omelette was now a pile of scrambled eggs mixed with bits of cheese, vegetables, and whatever else he had intended to use as filling. It wasn't the prettiest breakfast, but it was undeniably Mulder.
"So now," he continued with a chuckle, "we've got scrambled eggs with stuff in it. But, hey, it's still breakfast, right?"
Scully couldn't help but laugh, her earlier uncertainties melting away in the face of his easygoing charm. "Scrambled eggs with stuff in it sounds perfect, Mulder," she said, taking a seat at the table.
Mulder joined her, a playful glint still in his eyes. "Good," he replied, clearly pleased with himself. "Just don't tell anyone at the bureau. I've got a reputation to maintain, you know."
After they finished eating, Scully set her fork down and took a deep breath, deciding to address the elephant in the room. "Mulder," she began, her voice hesitant, "did I fall asleep while we were on the on-ramp to... uh..." She trailed off, searching for the right words, her cheeks warming at the memory.
Mulder leaned back in his chair, a slow grin spreading across his face as he caught her meaning. "You did," he confirmed, his tone teasing. "I know I am out of practice, but I've never bored anyone that much in bed before." He added a playful wink for good measure.
Scully's eyes widened, and she felt a rush of mortification flood through her. "I am so sorry," she blurted out, her voice laced with genuine regret. The last thing she wanted was for him to think she wasn't interested—or worse, that he had done something wrong.
Mulder, sensing her genuine concern, became more serious. He reached across the table and gently took Scully's hand in his. "No need to apologize," he said softly, his eyes meeting hers with an understanding that ran deeper than just the events of last night. "You were tired, Scully. We both were." His words carried an unspoken weight, hinting at more than just the physical exhaustion they both felt.
But before the moment could become too heavy, Mulder's familiar smirk returned. "Though I should mention," he added, his tone turning playful again, "you do snore in Dolby Surround sound."
Scully couldn't help but chuckle, the tension easing from her shoulders as the mood lightened. The embarrassment faded into something warmer, more comfortable, as she squeezed his hand in return.
Scully hesitated for a moment before speaking, her fork idly tracing circles on her plate. "Mulder, I just don't want you to think there's something wrong with me," she finally said, her voice quieter than usual, tinged with vulnerability.
Mulder looked up, catching the serious tone in her voice, but he couldn't resist teasing her just a little. "I actually thought you lost interest," he said with a playful grin, trying to keep the mood light.
Scully smiled faintly, but the concern in her eyes didn't fade. "It's just… I know I have this reputation. The 'Ice Queen' and all that. I don't want you to believe that's who I am. Especially not after last night."
Mulder's expression softened, and he set his fork down, leaning forward a bit to close the distance between them. "Scully, there's absolutely nothing wrong with you," he said earnestly. "And I've never seen you as the 'Ice Queen.' You're so much more than that to me. Last night doesn't change anything—except maybe that I now know that you'd ditch me for dreamland in a heartbeat."
He gave her a reassuring smile, trying to ease the lingering doubt he could see in her eyes. "I actually think it was cute. Makes for a great story to tell fellow agents in the locker room—'If we're sleeping together, you want to know? Hell yes, we did both *sleep* together.'"
Scully couldn't help but chuckle softly at that, the tension in her shoulders beginning to relax.
"I hope you remember that you were still awake when I got you out of your dress," Mulder added, his tone turning slightly more serious, though there was still a hint of playfulness in his eyes. "I got the blanket when I noticed you'd ditched me for dreamland, but once I had us both tucked in, I was out like a light too."
Scully felt a wave of relief wash over her. The sincerity in Mulder's words, mixed with his usual humor, was exactly what she needed. She realized then that he didn't see her the way she sometimes feared others did. He saw her, really saw her, and accepted her completely.
"Thank you, Mulder," she said, her voice warm with gratitude.
Scully met his eyes, feeling more at ease now. "I did want to," she said softly, her sincerity clear.
Mulder's grin returned, a playful glint in his eyes. "I know," he teased, "I could tell by how you copped a feel."
Scully, now feeling relaxed enough to join in the banter, shot back with a smirk, "Right back at you."
They shared a brief, lighthearted laugh before Scully's expression turned serious again. "Can we try again?" she asked, her voice filled with both hope and a touch of vulnerability.
Mulder's teasing faded into something more tender as he looked at her, clearly touched by her openness. "Whenever you feel ready," he replied warmly, squeezing her hand for reassurance. Then, with his signature smirk, he added, "Just make sure to take a nap beforehand."
Scully chuckled, the last of her worries dissolving in the comfort of his humor.