thinking about scully tearfully delivering the news of diana's murder, a woman she hated, but she was mulder's friend and she helped scully save him in the end â the most important thing to scully. the only thing that would have wilted scully's disdain & distrust for her.
i've always loved that scene of scully approaching fowley in the hall, that terrified look on her face. fowley could put on a good front but she'd be stupid not to be at least a little afraid of scully. the truth of it is though, scully could see through her and knew exactly what string to pull. it worked. they both knew what it would mean. it was a consequence they both decided was worth it. for mulder.
i hate diana fowley. she's in no way redeemed by this, to me. but it wasn't small either and she made the choice knowingly. she wasn't naive, she didn't think she would survive it.
scully's tears were for mulder. his loss, her relief to still have him with her, his life. i love this about her.
and in all this grief, mulder makes sure he tells scully that it's her.
Time for me to make a little introduction post to txf tumblr!!
I am a big time lurker but donât post much, but I love x-files tumblr so much and would love to be more active 𫶠I love how many og fans are on here and all the analysis and fic and whatever else goes on.
Iâm more active on Twitter right now but who knows how that could change!
Anways heyyyyyyy xfiles people I am happy to be here!
@lilydalexf has an encyclopedic knowledge of fics and continues to be an invaluable resource. You'll find a boatload of themed fic lists, individual rec posts and helpful answers to anon asks.
@txf-fic-chicks-blog
seven years of almost daily recs, with well-written blurbs and a lot of fun, run by @kateyes224 and @piecesofscully. Look out for their themed days: "Casefile Monday", "Tumblr Tuesday", "Editor's Pick Wednesday", "Post-Ep/Missing Scene Thursday", "Novel Length Friday", "Smut Sunday", and the very cool "Because You Watched"
@msrlibrary
a well-tagged library of MSR fics; each entry includes a short excerpt and a nicely chosen image from the show.
@201daysofxfiles
a rewatch blog by fandom veteran @wendelah. Each episode in season 1-7 is paired with its own fic rec post.
@enigmaticxbee
an aesthetically pleasing and neatly organized rewatch blog that is packed with great content, including excellent fic rec lists categorized by season, story type, trope, and more. Each episode guide sometimes features related fic recs.
@thatfragilecapricorn30 posts one fic rec every Friday, accompanied by a nice writeup.
@randomfoggytiger curates many fic rec lists sorted by often fun and creative categories.
@cecilysass has a google doc titled "fics I love", which is a fantastic fic list categorized by story type, complete with thoughtful blurbs. She's also shared two episode-related fic rec lists on Tumblr: here and here.
@pookie-mulder writes a monthly fic journal with good recs.
**self-promo plug** I post fic recs on my Tumblr blog @fine-nephrit under #nephrit's fic rec. Plus, I reblog others' fic recs that I come across!
đœ Rec Communities
XF Book Club: the best thing ever, an absolute gem that deserves to be preserved for posterity. During its run, 270 fics were recced and discussed in depth here. The community's intelligent and insightful comments on this blog are sometimes even more enjoyable to read than the fics themselves.
The Fic Filter (xf tag): well-curated selections with short blurbs.
Multifandom Het Recs (xf tag): a major rec site's xf section that offers nice "why this must be read" writeups. @het-reccers
Crack Van (xf tag): another major rec site with a big xf section, featuring endless recs and blurbs
Fancake (xf tag): another major rec community's xf section boasting an extensive thematic tagging system
Bad for the Fish aka Scarlet Baldy: fantastic fic list paired with highly enjoyable reviews and analyses of the fics she's read. @badforthefish
Ramblings of a Mind Untamed: reviews of a dozen or so classic fics
xxSKSxx XF Fanfic Recs: still active in 2024! @xxsksxxx
X-Libris: more of a fic library, this is the best place to download nicely-formatted ebooks of pre-AO3 oldies. What I love most is the incredibly detailed and extensive tagging system.
đœ Individual Rec Lists with good writeup
Character Manifesto - Dana Scully: a character analysis and 10 Scully-centric fic recs, categorized by "best of .." selections. Amazing format and choices!
Character Manifesto - Fox Mulder: same format as above for Spooky
ShipRecced blog's classic MSR fics and newer MSR fics recs
luminary's 16-fic rec post
RivkaT recs fics and writers @rivkat
Anna Otto's favorite stories
Syntax6's rec list @syntax6
đœ 90s Old School Rec Sites
The Basement Office - Musea: a treasure trove of extensive fic lists with lovely written blurbs, recced by a group of talented writers from back in the day
The Other Side - Fanfic Recs from Beyond the Grave: a large collection of 'scary' or 'spooky' story recs with nice blurbs. Beautiful web design.
the Rookery - Favorite Authors: nice commentary on a list of classic fic writers
X-Files Fanfiction 101: an intro guide to fic categories and what to read for each
The Primal Screamers: a fun site run by a mailing list that hosts fic recs with blurbs, and a 'Coffee Talk' section full of delightful and discussions of canon
Idealists Haven - Elemental Fanfic Archive: an archive with rec blurbs
Chronicle X: a large, well-organized archive with blurbs, plus a 'Can We Talk' discussion section of novel-length fics, plus a total of 46 author interviews. Simply incredible!
đœ Special Mention
The X-Files Lost and Found: a fic finder message board that is miraculously still very active todayâHow wonderful! Its FAQ page hosts a huge collection of well-categorized themed fic lists (not recs), including "Classics (or, Your Fanfic Education is Not Complete Until You've Read ...)".
Where do you find your next read? What did I miss? Reblog and share your favorites!
He almost never goes out to bars in Alexandria, and when he does, heâs typically in some kind of despairing mood. But Mulder isnât despairing tonight. Heâs hopeful.
Itâs hope tempered with some reservation, of course. Heâs not stupidâthe other shoe can always dropâbut thereâs definitely a feeling that there could be less troubled paths ahead. If all goes well.
The pub is crowded, so he stands in the entrance scanning the room for her, feeling strangely awkward, like an adolescent boy. He jogged a little to get here at the time they arranged, and Mulderâs uncomfortably sweating now in his work clothes. He loosens his collar and tie.
Sheâs sitting with stately posture at a side booth, a menu propped in front of her. She spots him and raises a single hand.
He eagerly makes his way across the room, ducking in between the people making their way to get a drink at the bar, and slips into the seat across from her. âHi,â he says. âSorry Iâm late.â
âIâm used to it, Fox,â she says, coolly amused. Diana slides him a menu. âItâs given me plenty of time to look over the culinary options here at the Honest Man Pub.â She draws out the name of the bar in an affected way, a little mockingly.
He smirks at her. âCome on. Who doesnât like an Honest Man, Diana?â
âWho indeed.â She smiles tightly. âAs it happens, I remember your taste in restaurants, so Iâm not surprised.â
âMozzarella sticks,â he says, pointing a finger at the menu enthusiastically. âYou want to share some? Iâm starving.â
âNo thanks. I ordered a negroni.â
âLook,â Mulder gestures towards a woodcut illustration of Abraham Lincoln on the cover of the menu. âItâs Honest Abe, Diana. Trustworthy. You sure you donât want a burger or something?â
âIâm really not hungry,â she says. But she, too, flips the menu over to look at it. She traces Lincolnâs face with her fingertip. âYou think itâs supposed to be a reference to that story about chopping down the cherry tree?â
âThat was George Washington.â Mulder sets the menu down and gives her a mildly admonishing look.
âWhat? Iâm no historian,â she says dismissively. âAnd what politician has the luxury of honesty anyway?â
Dianaâs not wearing her work clothes, he notices in surprise. Unless she wears a form-fitting black dress to work, and he doesnât think she does. He chews his lip, wondering why she bothered to go home to change, especially because heâs pretty sure she lives in DC.
After the server passes by, and Mulder orders his beer and mozzarella sticks, he turns his attention back to her. âWell? Whatâs up?â He folds his hands on the table. âYou made it sound like good news.â
Her cocktail is placed directly in front of her, and she murmurs a polite thanks to the server. âPotentially it is,â she says. âI need your help on a case, and I think if you do well, it could be ⊠a step in the right direction.â
He tries to play it cool, even though this is exactly what he hoped. âMy help? Did Kersh have a personality transplant or something?â
âThis would be outside of official channels,â she explains. âAt first, anyway.â
There are several cardboard coasters on the table with quotes printed on them in homey, old-fashioned typeface. The one nearest Mulder reads: âAn honest man is always a child. - Socrates.â He pushes the coaster around the table with his fingertip, nodding slowly. âIâm listening.â
âThere have been a series of credible sightings of unusual crafts flying low outside of Groom Lake,â she says in a low voice. She sips her drink, meeting his eyes. âI know youâve probably been following it. Kersh doesnât want Jeffrey and I to spend too much time there. But you could go.â
âUnder what auspices?â
âIt would have to be extracurricular.â She shrugs, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly. âYouâve done this sort of thing before, Fox.â
âShiner Bock,â the server says cheerfully, setting a bottle down in front of Mulder. âYour mozzarella sticks should be out soon.â
âThanks,â says Mulder. As the server darts off, he takes a slow sip, mulling over Dianaâs words. âHow would this be a step in the right direction?â
Diana leans towards him, her glass resting against her cheek. âJeffrey and I have received some information about experimental craft at Groom Lake,â she says softly. âIf we could put that together with your field workâand what you already have in the filesâthen we could have a report theyâd have to take seriously.â
Mulder canât help but feel excited, but he takes pains to mask it, chuckling cynically. âIâve been down this road before, Diana.â He shrugs. âIt never amounts to much. Plus, Kersh is already looking for any reason to chuck me out of the Bureau. This could easily be it.â
She reaches across the table and clasps his hand tight. âNot if I have your back.â
He frowns a little, confused by her meaning. Sheâs much more open to this than he expected. Still, his whole soul cries out to get back to working on the X-files. Itâs almost all he thinks about these days. If there is a way forward here, he needs to hear all of it.
âWeâve always made a good team,â Diana points out. âWe could be again. And this is your lifeâs work. Youâre wasted in the bullpen.â
âYeah,â Mulder says uneasily, âbut what wouldââ
âI knew it.â interrupts a booming voice startlingly close to their table.
Mulder looks up blankly, and it takes him a half second to place the tall, pink-faced man towering angrily over them.
He knows Bill Scullyâs face very wellâassociates it with some of his most emotionally vulnerable moments, in factâbut seeing it here in this Virginia bar, out of context, gives him a momentâs pause.
âI just knew it,â repeats Bill, his eyes narrowing. He squints down at Mulder murderously. âYouâre not even worth ⊠one of her goddamn pinky toes, you no good son of a bitch.â
âBill,â Mulder murmurs, staring back. The man seems to be swaying slightly from side to side as he spits words out, as though heâs insulting Mulder on rough seas. âI didnât know you were in town.â
Bill leans over, placing a palm flat on the table, and Mulder can distinctly smell whiskey on his breath.
âYou have some nerve,â Bill hisses. âThis is how you treat her? After everything youâve done? Now youâre just out ⊠on some date?â
Diana gives him a significant, questioning look, and Mulder straightens in his seat, his eyes scanning behind Billâs back for a sign of who might be accompanying him. âI think youâve had a few too many tonight,â Mulder attempts genially. âYouâre not making much sense. Why donât Iââ
âWhy donât you shut your damn mouth for once in your life?â Bill bellows. The group of young people at the next table looks over, watching them now, their expressions half interested and half alarmed.
Bill turns his attention to Diana, pointing one of his large fingers at her like a scolding father, even though Mulder is pretty sure Diana is at least Billâs age, if not older. âWhat do you know about this guy, miss?â His words are definitely slurring. âHow much did he tell you? Did you know heâs a dangerous sonofabitch?â
âWell, when he asked you out,â Bill says to her, gesturing sloppily, âdid he mention heâs been fucking my sister for years? Destroying her life? Breaking her heart?â
He knows Billâs drunk, and he knows Bill doesnât have his facts right, but Mulder canât help feeling the sting of shame over what heâs being accused of. Part of it, anyway. He hears himself inhale sharply by reflex.
Dianaâs eyebrows have arched in surprise. She looks pointedly at Mulder. âOh? Is that right? Whoâs your sister?â
âMy sister Dana,â Bill spits out, slamming his hand on the table for emphasis. âMy baby sister.â
âAh,â Diana responds conversationally. âYouâre Agent Scullyâs brother.â She seems unfazed by this information. âWe both work with her, actually. Why donât you join us for a moment?â
She scoots over in her seat, gesturing calmly to the spot next to her. Mulder doesnât move, paralyzed with horror at the way this is unfolding.
Bill looks at Diana a moment, his jaw clenched, and then, to Mulderâs shock, slides in next to her in the booth, turning to direct his glare at Mulder.
For a moment Mulder just stares, slack-jawed, back into the manâs furious face. Bill seems to be waiting for somethingâfor Mulder to explain himself, probably.
âThis ⊠isnât a date,â Mulder begins, pointing between Diana and himself. âItâs work. And you need to understand that your sister and I arenât in a romantic relationship either. Or a, uh, sexual relationship.â
Bill chuckles, shaking his head slowly, then abruptly changes mood, pounding his fist loudly and suddenly on the table and causing both Diana and Mulder to startle.
âThen why?â he demands, meeting Mulderâs eyes intensely in a way that reminds him, unsettlingly, of Scully. âWhy does she do it? Why does she put up with you?â
âI ⊠really donât know,â Mulder admits miserably. âYouâd have to ask her.â
âI know my sister,â Bill says, his features softening a little. âThere are only ⊠a few reasons why she would do it.â His tone goes cold. âDoes she know youâre on a date?â
âNo,â Mulder answers quickly, âbut itâs not aââ
âI hate you,â Bill leans forward to whisper to him. âI hate you for what youâve put her through. Now youâre cheating. On a fucking date. Jesus.â
âYo, Scully,â comes a masculine voice from the bar. âWhereâd you go?â Mulder looks around nervously, half expecting to see his partner, but of course the voice is calling for Bill. A group of men in their 30s and 40s, all with square shoulders and military haircuts, seem to be looking in this direction. Bill doesnât even look back at them.
âYou donât understand,â Mulder says. He feels panicky and anxious. âItâs not a date. And Scullyâs my partner, not myââ
âJesus, shut the fuck up,â Bill groans. He slides out of the booth. âDonât you ever get tired of your annoying-ass voice?â
He does, actually, more often than one might think.
âBill, wait, are youââ Mulder stops suddenly.
He realizes what he was about to askâare you going to tell Scully that you saw us here?âsounds completely at odds with what he has been telling Bill, what he has been telling himself. That question doesnât make him sound like a partner out talking about work with a colleague.
It makes him sound like he thinks heâs doing something wrong, something he needs to hide.
The truth is that he does think Scully would be angry to know heâd met Diana here. She would be angry for a whole snarl of tangled reasonsâand yeah, hurt, like Bill says. He doesnât especially want her to know.
âAm I what?â Bill sneers, turning back around jerkily.
âAre you ⊠okay to get home?â Mulder mumbles. âYou have a ride?â
Bill gives him a look of withering contempt. âThatâs none of your fucking business.â He turns and staggers back towards the bar.
Mulder watches him go, trying to swallow back his self-loathing. He realizes after a second that his fists are clenched.
âFox,â Diana says in concern. âAre you all right?â
He says nothing for a beat, making a game attempt to pull himself back together.
âYeah,â he says to Diana. He takes a fast swig of beer. âThat guyâhe, uh, just really hates me.â
âI gathered,â Diana says. She looks at Mulder appraisingly. âYou seem to be taking what he says awfully seriously.â
âWell,â Mulder says grimly into his beer, âitâs just heâs not entirely wrong.â
Diana leans back in the booth, lifts her glass to her beautiful lips, and takes a careful sip. âNo,â she says coolly, âheâs not.â
Mulder exhales raggedly. âGee, Diana,â he says, âdonât hold back how you feel on my account.â
âHeâs wrong about plenty,â she breathes. âHe underestimates you, like most people do. But heâs not wrong that your work has hurt Agent Scully.â
âDonât you think I know that?â he snaps at her. He pauses to compose himself. âI donât want Scully to be hurt,â he says in a more controlled voice. âI never have. Her choices are her own.â
âAnd your choices are your own,â Diana says. Her eyes are dark and shining. âYou know, Fox, I hope that if all goes well with this initial foray at Groom Lake, we might all be a little more ambitious in our choices.â
Mulder shakes his head rapidly, still rattled by the encounter with Bill. âAmbitious in our choices how?â
âWell,â she says. âThinking longer term, I donât know if Jeffrey is working out on the X-files. I think he might prefer to be elsewhere at the Bureau. And if he does⊠then Iâd be asked for my preference in a partner.â
Mulder looks up quickly. âAnd youâd ⊠want to work with me?â
âOf course,â she says, giving him an inviting look. âWho else would I want?â
Thereâs an uncomfortable pause. Mulder toys with a coaster on the table idly.
âDo you think theyâd even listen to you?â he wonders. âTheyâre really not my biggest fans right now. Kersh in particular.â
She fishes an ice cube out of her drink, sucks on it a little. Then she meets his eyes, and there is a dangerous spark. âI can be very persuasive, Fox.â
Mulderâs fingertip worries the corner of the cardboard coaster back and forth, back and forth. He hasnât asked the biggest question. âAnd what about Scully?â
âWhat about her?â
âI couldnât ⊠leave Scully behind in the bullpen.â
âWithout you,â Diana says, sipping her drink, âshe wouldnât be in the bullpen for very long. They would give her a better placement in no time. Sheâs only stuck there because of you.â
Mulderâs eyes remain on the scuffed tabletop as he considers the truth of this statement. Scully certainly is only being punished because of her links to the X-files. Were she cut free from him, she probably would be given a fresh start.
âI donât know,â he says bleakly. âI donât know if I could even do it without her.â
Diana makes an exasperated hiss. âFox,â she says. âOf course you could. What is this codependency youâve developed? You werenât like this before.â
Mulder rubs the bridge of his nose. âDiana, Iââ
âMozzarella sticks,â announces their server, his voice surreally peppy as he places the basket on the table. Mulder nods and smiles miserably, his eyes down on the fried cheese.
As the server walks away, Diana reaches over and places her hand over his. Itâs light and soft as silk. âI could be the partner you need, Fox,â she says softly. âIf you give me a chance.â
Her fingers now are caressing his hand lightly. Mulderâs taken aback. âI remember ⊠how to calm you down,â she adds, almost a whisper. âHow to reduce your stress.â She runs her fingertip down the back of his hand, a subtle but effective gesture. âAnd Iâm not someone who is easily hurt.â
As opposed to Scully? he wonders. Is that what Scully is? Easily hurt? Is that why Iâve hurt her so much?
Somewhere to Mulderâs left there is a loud discussion at the bar. Despite Dianaâs surprising advances, Mulder finds his attention drifting over there. He recognizes Billâs voice, speaking loudly to the bartender, and looks for him in the crowd.
âIâll tell you what,â Diana adds, reaching out with her finger to gently direct his chin back towards her. âCome over tonight.â Under the table he feels her foot brush against his calf, ostensibly accidentally, and sheâs successfully got his full attention back. âWe can discuss your Groom Lake fieldwork more privately. I can ⊠convince you of everything else.â
Mulder closely watches her face, every nuance of her expression. âOh yeah?â he says guardedly.
âHey folks, you doing all right here? Need ketchup or anything?â The energetic server is suddenly smiling broadly next to the table, hands on his hips, and Mulder can sense Dianaâs annoyance from across the table.
âWeâre fine,â Mulder says, still staring at Diana, âbut Iâm going to need to get these mozzarella sticks to go. And our checks, please.â
âComing right up.â The server obligingly darts away.
Dianaâs foot brushes up his calf again, this time with less pretense of accident. âIs that a yes, then?â she says, the barest hint of a smile.
In the background, Mulder is aware of a flurry of activity at the barâthe bartenderâs voice firmly declaring something about someone not being served any more.
He looks back at Diana, who looks very beautiful, curvy and enticing in the dress he now realizes was strategically chosen to showcase her body for him.
Then his eyes fall down to one of the coasters on the table. He reads it, then reaches down and picks it up impulsively, sliding it in his pocket.
âDiana,â he says, suddenly sounding more certain than he expects, âIâm going to have to get back to you.â
the thing about mulder and scully is they kinda smell like cigarettes. i imagine scully's wool coats, esp when she's stressed. but they sit at a lot of diners and in the 90s diners had smoking sections so it probably sticks to them.
the thing about mulder and scully is that their rental cars have cassette tape players and long antennas. their cars are always square and have roll down windows that you have to move manually.
the thing about mulder and scully is their phones are huge and barely work. they pay with cash and ask if you take american express.
the tvs aren't flat, ties and sweaters are ugly but they have character.
mulder and scully feel like childhood to me. i put on xf and it can be 1997 again.
Prompt! Vulnerable post-case Scully. She can be prickly (because I love your Scully) but also delicate. Case-related vulnerability is my most favourite vibe in the series and every so often I get sad that there are no more moments to watch. Thank you đ
By the time she gets around to taking it off, her blood-soaked starched blouse has all but melded with her skin. They have to peel it from her body with a crackling sound. Her jacket is already stiffly tented in the corner.
He will burn those items later, he will burn and burn and burn.
***
Acrid scent of gunpowder in the air still. Blood like pennies baking on hot tarmac. Cortisol, adrenaline.
Terror.
Her grasping fingers, her grasping hands, her wracking sobs even as he pried her away to check for wounds.
***
Mulder helps her to his bathroom, holding her elbow as she staggers beside him like a fawn. Her hair is dried in ragged, bloody clumps.
He settles her onto the toilet lid, gets the bath running at her preferred level of scald. He squirts in a few blobs of his pine-scented body wash, which begin to foam. Scully smiles a heartbreaking smile in thanks.
âBubbles,â he says, inanely.
Scullyâs chest is caked with blood, even with her shirt removed to reveal the stained satin of her bra. Her belly is streaked with it, her black trousers rusty and stiff.
How is there any blood still inside her? How is she still here?
She has her arms crossed at her lap, her head bowed. He cannot see anything but her white shoulders and her draggled hair and her dark, narrow thighs.
âScully,â he whispers.
She gazes up, hollow-eyed. âHe didnâtâŠâ she begins. âWe neverâŠ.â
She looks away, lower lip between her teeth.
âOh, Scully.â
His hands are gentle at the clasp of her bra; he turns his eyes from her breasts even though heâs seen them.
He unbuttons the fine wool trousers at her waist, slides them down with her dark panties. He doesnât look or touch or breathe more than he has to because the idea of connecting any of this to lust makes him sick.
Her hips, the dark triangle of sunset hair between her thighs, are also sticky with blood. The lace clings a little and she winces. Her trouser lining tugs. Finally, she is nude. She is so small and so bloody and so bare, like a newborn creature.
Mulder guides her towards the tub, averts his eyes like she is Artemis bathing. Tries not to think the name Diana.
Scully, breast-deep in bubbles. Scully dripping rusty rivulets in the steam. Her tears are silent now, streaking paths down her blood-smattered kidskin face.
Mulder fills a scuffed blue plastic Knicks cup with water, curves his palm around her eyes. âLook up,â he murmurs, and she does, distant, outside of herself.
He sluices water over her head until it runs clear, until she is sleek as an otter, a siren, a goddess. She gasps a little, spreads her fingers against her skull.
Her freckles are magnified by the falling water, her eyes a little too big. A little too round. Her nose is straight and queenly throughout however; her lips parted like a budding tulip.
He massages pearly-blue Head and Shoulders shampoo into the rare, persimmon beauty of her hair. He massages her scalp until she purrs a little. He touches her until his nerves are settled.
âMulder,â she says, and grasps his forearm in her fine, pale hand. Her face is pre-Raphaelite. Her face is like a D below middle-C; a plucked bowstring, still quivering.
Agent Mulder is already in love.
âPadgett was crazy, he was -â she begins.
âSshhhh,â he says. âI have conditioner.â He holds the bottle out, a drugstore brand promising THICKNESS!!! and SHINE!!!
She laughs and it warms him like a hot toddy, like the sun in August, like the sand at Ninigret Pond.
***
Scully is clean, finally, even her smudged makeup rubbed away. Theyâve drained and refilled the tub with fresh water, with fresh bubbles. She seems like herself again, not so dazed.
He passes her his robe, turns his head to hold it out when she stands.
âYouâre so Victorian.â
âOh, you know how much I love to lie back and think of England.â He glances over. âThe memories are so nice, Phoebe and all.â
Scully ties the too-long belt in a big square knot. âIt was kindly meant.â Her smile is soft.
âI know.â
They shift awkwardly for a moment in the small space. Scully looks like a kid dressed up as an angel for a Nativity play in that enormous robe, her bare face and bare feet and tumbled halo of hair.
âMy neighbor. So I feel like I..I donât know. I led him to you.â He picks at a non-existent hangnail.
Scully sighs. âOh, Mulder.â
He shakes his head. âNo, I donât⊠I didnât mean to make it about me, I know these are your choices, that youâre not some damsel in distress. I just hate when these things hurt you.â
Things is such an inadequate word, but no word ever could be adequate.
Scully blinks. She opens the door, wafts into his bedroom with the steam. Trails his bathrobe like a court gown.
Mulder follows after, wary. Watches her sprawl on his bed, far from the blood stains in the living room. Heâs already called the crime-scene cleanup company.
Again.
She pats the bed next to her. âI promise I wonât take advantage of you.â
He laughs a little at that, remembers her looking a lot like this years ago in Bellefleur, in that awful motel with that terrible brown Clairol wash on her hair. He flops next to her. âAny mosquito bites you want me to check, Doctor Scully?â
She thumbs his cheek. âI was a child.â
He kisses her nose so that he doesnât kiss her mouth. Though why shouldnât he? Why shouldnât they?
âI was a child and she was a child in this kingdom by the seaâŠâ he quotes. Trails off. What are they doing, this isnât a partnership. This is strange and awful and gorgeous. Her dying baby in his arms, her ova, her-
âIn her sepulchre there by the seaâŠâ Scully murmurs. âIn her tomb by the sounding sea.â She closes her eyes.
They breathe one anotherâs air. They breathe artificial pine scent, dryer sheets, warm nitrogen. Faded cotton, old paper.
âAre you okay?â he asks, so he doesnât slip a finger between her thighs. So he doesnât say I love you the way oysters love the morning tide.
Her finger at his lips, her breath on his lashes. Her sweet, warm skin and her extraordinary brain and the scarred palimpsest of her body right here.
âNo,â she says, stroking his jaw. âBut I will be.â
****
She stays with him all night and he stays with her all night and they are arranged like the Lovers of Valdaro.
His coffee pot is programmed. His carpet is soaked in her blood, her gun is going to be the subject of an investigation.
He and Walter will protect her.
***
She loses the robe at 2AM, mumbling something vague about being tangled and too hot. Her naked body is now asleep against his chest and he lets go, finally, in the sweet vulnerability of her slim arms that can heal and kill.
Mulder And Scully Have Ruined Me. @jezzmitch - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
snowghoul
turnnoffyourmind
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