#xffictober

[xffictober25]

XF Fictober is back...

For 2025! If you are participating in fictober this year please tag this blog in your fics and it will be reblogged onto this page. If you are a reader than search day, username, or year to find the fics you are looking for and to keep up to date with fics posted.

[numinousmysteries]

@leiascully mentioned airports. JessM wrote the quintessential airport fic and this lives in that universe. I owe them everything, and they owe me nothing.

This has not been beta'd, edited, or put through any quality control whatsoever. Read at your own risk.

@today-in-fic @xffictober24

Paved Paradise

It's Bill Scully's turn to host Christmas. There is some sort of algorithm within the extended Scully clan that determines this. It factors in variables such as who's stationed abroad, who's too pregnant to travel, and who's just being so goddamn stubborn (Scully's words) this year. It's a complex calculation that starts as early as July if Scully's sighs and eye rolls during her phone calls with her mother are any indication. And despite all the time and care that allegedly goes into these deliberations, it seems that more often than not–in Mulder's mind at least—they end up flying to San Diego on the busiest travel day of the year.

Maggie headed out a week earlier to spend more time with Bill's kids, so it's just the three of them hunkered down at O'Hare for an extended layover. One that's becoming more and more extended as the snow piles up.

William has been characteristically well-behaved on the journey so far but even the most mature six-year-old's patience would be worn thin by now. Fuck, Mulder thinks, even this not-so-mature 46-year-old is getting antsy.

"I'm so bored!" He calls out, squirming in the vinyl seat at the gate. "Can I go walk around?"

"No," Scully says. She's not even looking up from her book. Mulder doesn't know how she can maintain her stoic calm in the boisterous chaos of an airport on Christmas Eve. "They could call us to board any minute now. And besides, it's too crowded, I'm worried you'll get lost."

Mulder doesn't want to remind her that they could have been called to board any minute in the past three hours now. "I'll go with him," he says, jolting up out of his seat. "We won't go far. And I'll have my phone on me, so just send a bat signal if we need to come back."

She looks up from her book to consider it. The two of them must look desperate because she just shakes her head and sighs. "Sure. Stay close."

Mulder grins down at William who smiles back conspiratorially.

"Yes! Thanks mom!" Full of pent-up energy, the kid grabs Mulder's hand and pulls him into the mire of human mass in the terminal. Will's red hair makes it easy to keep track of him in the crowd although, to Mulder's dismay, it's been getting darker recently. He'll always have Scully's bright blue eyes, though.

"Where to, kid?"

"I'm hungry," he says, excitedly. "And maybe they have a book store. I finished my book on the first flight and then I read the whole thing again. And look—there's a Pizza Hut. Can we get Pizza Hut?"

Mulder stops in his tracks in front of the restaurant. Still in motion in front of him, William stumbles a bit at the abrupt stop. He's been here before. In this exact spot in this terminal seven years ago. But there wasn't a Pizza Hut Express there before. It used to be a Chili's To Go. A very special Chili's To Go.

"What is this crap?" He gasps.

"Dad!" William glares up at him in surprised disapproval. A look that could come from his mother. "You can't say that."

"This didn't used to be a Pizza Hut, Will."

"Huh?" His son asks, confused.

"There was a Chili's here once. Before you were born. Your mom and I went there after a case once."

William is still staring at him skeptically. "Didn't you go to like a million airports?"

"Yeah," Mulder says, gazing in shock at the new restaurant as if its predecessor will suddenly appear before his eyes. "But this one was...memorable."

"Why? Was the food good?"

"I don't remember any food."

"You're so weird, dad," Will shakes his head. "Can we get pizza?"

"Um, sure," Mulder says. He's sadder than he should be by the replacement of one chain restaurant in an airport by another. But god, what had happened at that Chili's. It was the first time she let him touch her. The first time they fucked. In a red vinyl booth, no less. It was where their partnership finally became something more. William wasn't conceived there—and for that, he is thankful—but it set in motion the shift in their relationship that would ultimately lead to William's conception. That would ultimately lead them here. To this airport. On this holiday. As a family. And the Chili's wasn't even there to witness them.

Mulder goes through the motion of paying for William's personal pan pizza, bottled water, and a large diet Pepsi for him and William to share. He eyes the corner of the restaurant where there used to be a booth behind a retaining wall. The wall and the booth are gone. Probably ditched in a dumpster somewhere, trash compacted, or sold at auction. They should have been given a proper sendoff. A 21-gun salute. A hero's farewell at Arlington.

Eager to eat his pizza, Will skips his way back to the gate, his dazed father following a half-step behind.

As Will sinks back into his chair, Mulder turns to Scully any says, "It's official. They've paved paradise and put up a Pizza Hut."

"Blow on that, honey, it's hot," Scully says to William, not missing a beat. "What are you talking about, Mulder?"

"The Chili's that was in this terminal. Our Chili's? It's gone. They replaced it with a Pizza Hut Express. Can you believe that shit?"

"Language, Mulder," she whispers, nodding toward William who's too absorbed in his cheese pizza to notice.

Mulder can tell she knows what he's talking about though. She's starting to blush. A light rouge rising to her cheek not unlike the fuzzy pink of the sweater she'd been wearing that day. One that, now that he thinks about, he'd never seen her wear before or since.

"Are you sure it was even this terminal? These all look the same," she says.

"How could I forget?" It comes out louder than he wanted, even startling William briefly before he turns back to his meal.

"It could have been this terminal. Or it could have been any of the other identical ones though."

He slaps his hands on his thighs in frustration. "No, Scully, you're wrong. It was this one. I know it was. And I know you know, too."

"Oh, Mulder." She shakes her head and turns back to her book.

Finally, their flight is called for boarding. They gather up their bags and herd William onto the jet bridge. Once they're settled into their row, William in between them distracted with a new book, Scully leans over him to whisper in Mulder's ear.

"We'll always have Chili's." She winks.

Her low purr makes his groin twitch and he makes a note that he'll have to do something about that later, even in Bill Scully's house. It'll be more comfortable than a booth at Chili's To Go at least.

[xxsksxxx]

Split Seconds

Summary:

Sometimes trouble finds Mulder—and sometimes Scully steps right into its path.

Fictober24

Fanfiction Fandom: The X-Files/ #xfiles Prompts: 4, 11 Rating: T Warnings: none Tags: angst

Notes:

This is part of my contribution to Fictober, a yearly event that celebrates writing and reading.

Since I’m not good at sticking to one prompt for each story, I’ve combined two separate ones in this story. They’re in bold if you want to seek them out specifically. You can find the list here: @fictober-event.

I once again felt like exploring the angstier side of things—this time it's more the physical aspect though. This little ficlet wouldn't exist if it wasn't for @baronessblixen who talked me off the ledge once again. 

If you want to leave likes, tags kudos or a comment—no matter if it’s an emoji or several long paragraphs, please feel free. I'd be eternally grateful!

AO3 | @today-in-fic | @xffictober24

Bells Mill Road, Maryland 12:32 pm 

Scully slowly raised her hands. The man standing in front of them held his gun firmly pointed at Mulder, his eyes darting around wildly. She felt her breathing increase and her palms begin to sweat. 

“Put your gun down,” Mulder said soothingly, turning his palms towards their opponent in a peace offering. “There's no need for shooting anyone.”

Scully watched a bead of sweat trickle down from the man’s hairline, over his temple, and down his face until it disappeared into the collar of his dirty blue shirt. She quickly appraised the man, trying to determine how much trouble they were in.

The knuckles of the man’s right hand had turned white from gripping the gun handle so tightly, and his chest rose and fell rapidly. This man was clearly nervous and agitated, Scully concluded, and she’d felt her heart rate speed up. 

Her hand reflexively closed into a fist. If Mulder so much as took a hasty breath, there was no way of telling what the armed man would do. 

Why do we always end up in unlikely situations like this, she wondered. It's not like their cases weren't unusual enough. No, even doing something as simple as stopping for gas had them involved in a stand-off with an armed robber. Sometimes she wondered if it was Mulder’s destiny to find trouble–and hers to get them out of it. 

With an internal shake of her head, she returned to their current situation, just in time to watch the man slowly inch to the left, his gun firmly trained on her partner. “Get out of my way, or you'll see who needs to be shot,” he hissed, baring his teeth in an angry snarl. 

Without taking his eyes off of them, he blindly grabbed the plastic bag filled with money and cigarettes, the gas station worker had put on the counter before crouching down behind it. Scully could just make out the top of the young man’s bright red hair above the counter. 

“No, we’re not doing that! I think I'm going to make sure that you don't get any funny ideas, hero man,” the robber spat before taking an unexpected step forward, hitting Mulder across the face with the barrel of the gun. 

Mulder’s head flew to the right, a spray of bright red blood splattering on the countertop. 

“No!” Scully shouted and grabbed Mulder’s arm, checking to see how badly he was injured. A deep cut across his lip had opened up, and Mulder was squeezing his whole fist against it, trying to stop the blood flow. His eyes were tightly closed against the pain, and Scully could feel her anger erupt inside of her like a volcano. 

She whirled around to the gunman, who was now busy cramming bottles of alcohol into the plastic bag with his left hand while keeping a watchful eye on them. 

When he noticed Scully whirling around, he raised his weapon towards her and winked. “I didn't hit your boyfriend too hard, don't worry. He’ll be fine if you behave like a good little girlfriend and keep him away from me.”

Scully could feel Mulder tense next to her and grasped his forearm to keep him still. 

The robber laughed and gave her a quick once-over. “Seems like you're feistier than I thought. Romeo here seems to follow your orders like a puppy. We could have some fun, you and me. I like it when they are wild.”

Scully didn't give him the satisfaction of a reaction, and just returned his look dispassionately. 

“Ooooh. Must be my lucky day. You're really a wild one. How about I give your boyfriend a real reason to cry?” He shifted the gun’s muzzle slightly to the right and lowered it towards Mulder’s knees. 

Well, that worked out great. Scully tensed and a cold dread swept over her like an icy wave. She quickly stepped in front of Mulder and straight into the gunman’s line of fire. 

“Scully, no!” Mulder shouted. He tried to grab her arm and pull her back, but his hand only caught air. 

Scully was now standing a few feet in front of him, her arms raised slightly above her head, and her eyes were firmly locked on the man across from them. 

The robber cursed and quickly redirected his gun to her. “Get out of my way,” he growled through tightly clenched teeth. “I'm done playing with you two. Give me your money, and then I'm out of here!”

When Scully didn't move, he grabbed her raised arm forcefully and pulled her towards him. “I. Said. Give me your MONEY!” he screamed into her face. 

Scully winced as the man tightened his grip on her wrist. This situation was rapidly spiraling out of control. “All right, I'm going to reach into my coat and get my money, ok? There’s no need to get angry,” she tried to soothe him. Where are the police, she thought frantically. Surely the kid hiding behind the counter had pressed the emergency button while she and Mulder had been playing bait, right? 

She slowly reached inside her coat, but the man grabbing her other arm wasn't in the mood for slow. He pushed her hand away and pulled her coat open, frantically groping for her purse—and that's when he saw her gun attached to the back of her pants. With a surprised yelp, he quickly whipped her around and threw her on the floor, kneeling down on her back. “Why do you have a gun!? Who are you!? Are you police? Have you been following me?! You lying piece of shit!” 

Scully tried to breathe against the pain of the sharp knee pressing into her shoulder blade. Now they were really in trouble. She tried to raise her head, seeking Mulder. Just when she met his eyes, she saw his mouth open in the beginning of a scream, his eyes widened in terror.

I’m sorry, Mulder. I guess I found the trouble this time, was her last conscious thought, then the handle of the gun came down hard on the back of her head, and all she could see was darkness.

[will-on-the-internet]

Fictober: Day 21 Someone Else’s Bed | Mulder x Scully

MSR | Morning after | Angst + fluff | 

SUMMARY: When Mulder wakes up in a bed that's not his own, he starts to overthink. Until Scully walks into the room wearing his shirt. Based on the prompt: “Hey, have you seen my shirt?”

When Mulder wakes, it isn’t on his old leather couch, legs sticking over the armrest and feeling like he’s only fallen asleep seconds ago to the sound of whatever crappy comedy show is on the T.V. Instead, he’s lying in a bed, head on a soft pillow and wrapped in sheets that are fresh and smell like lemons, chest bare and hair ruffled like someone had put their fingers through it recently.

He doesn’t move for a while, head spinning through all the events of last night, Scully and Mulder crashing through Scully’s bedroom door, lips against skin, hands against hips and chests and soft moans that made Mulder’s heart swell as he pulled them from Scully’s mouth. He shuts his eyes again for a moment and sucks in a long breath before breathing out slowly, fingers clenching the twisted sheets and listening to the sound of a stovetop kettle being turned on.

Mulder didn’t know what to do, how to react in a situation he swore to himself would never happen; that he would never land in the same bed as his work partner, his best friend and only confidant. He swore he would never put either of them in this position where they suddenly have to rewrite the rules of their six-year relationship as if the night before had ruined everything.

Yet, he was jumping to conclusions, scenarios running through his head of all the things to come, the pained silences between two people who didn’t know what they were to the other, the sleepless nights in crappy hotel rooms wishing Scully could be lying beside him even though he knew it was wrong, the days forward where she wouldn’t make eye contact with him or avoid speaking to him as much as she could because she felt uncomfortable and violated and…he had to get out of there, out of that room and away from the mess he had made.

The FBI agent stumbled away from the bed, still half tangled in the soft covers, desperately looking around for his jeans and shirt, the shoes he kicked into the corner of the room and his keys and wallet. He found those things easy enough, in a pile at the end of the bed, nearly matching a pile of Scully’s clothes; skirt, blouse, blazer, stockings and underwear, all heaped together and forgotten about. And just for a moment he stopped, looking down at the discarded clothes and thought to himself; he was the one that pulled off those garments from her body, ripped the blouse away so aggressively in his haste that the small white buttons went flying and Scully laughed against his skin at his eagerness to get her bare before him.

Mulder had his shoes and jeans on, keys and wallet stuffed into his pockets, but he couldn’t find his damn shirt. It wasn’t on the floor, hanging off a piece of furniture, under the bed or even in the bathroom connected to Scully’s bedroom, and suddenly his escape plan was foiled, his recklessly planned departure no longer feasible.

Scully stepped into her bedroom then, two cups of coffee in her hands and her mouth opening gently in a yawn, watching Mulder stagger around for something. Her lips formed an amused smile, and she walked over to her side of the bed, placing the two cups of coffee on the side table and rubbing her eyes to rid them of the left over sleep. She knew that Mulder had heard her come in, because he stopped moving for a moment to glance over at her quickly before searching the room again, but she also knew that he was distracted and even possibly scared, because his mouth was pinched shut, a picture of anxiety and his hands on his bare hips with his fingers tapping against his skin told her everything she needed to know.

“Hey, have you seen my shirt?” Mulder’s voice was thick with something that Scully couldn’t pick up, and he wouldn’t turn to look at her as he zipped up his jeans and buckled his belt. So, she waited, took a sip from her coffee and sat on the bed, knees curled up underneath her and shirt falling over her thighs. “I just…I can’t find it and I’ve looked every for it and I know you probably want me out of here so we can pretend this never happened but-.”

“Mulder, look at me.” Scully’s voice made him jump, but he turned around nonetheless and when he saw what was in front of him, his mouth opened and shut, and opened again like a fish gasping for air, speechless and nearly in a trance.

Scully was wearing his shirt…Scully was wearing his shirt that probably smelt like him from the day before and had an ink stain on the front and had a hole in the sleeve from constant wear and…Mulder nearly lost all sense. He stepped closer until he was nearly falling against the bed, forgetting that it was in between him and Scully, and she smiled at him in a nervous and worried way that made his eyes go wide.

“I don’t want you to leave, Mulder. And I don’t want to act as if what we did last night didn’t happen, because it did. There’s no getting around that, you know that.” Mulder hung his head in response to Scully’s statement, and with a sigh, sat down on the bed next to her. “Look, if you want to leave, then that’s fine but…”

“But what, Scully?” He turned to the red-haired woman, watched as she looked up at him with her wide eyes and then glanced away, focusing on the brown liquid in her cup, the steam rising to warm her face.

“I want you to stay, Mulder. I really, really want you to stay here, in my apartment, in my bed. Even if it’s just for this morning or even the rest of our lives, I just want you to stay. Please…” Scully’s words were soft and quiet, muffled with emotion and said in a way that pierced right through Mulder’s heart, made his skin feel warm and like for once in his god damn life, he was loved, he was wanted, he was needed. And Mulder didn’t feel those things often.

The brown-haired agent collapsed into Scully, twisting his arms around her hips and pulling her into him, nearly knocking the cup of coffee to the ground in the process. But he had Scully grinning brightly, a gentle hum escaping from her lips as she pressed her lips to his jaw with his fingers crawling up under the shirt to press against her waist.

“Then I’ll stay, Scully. For as long as you want me, as long as you’ll have me.” Mulder kissed her then, kissed her like he had wanted to the whole six years they had been partners, with so much love and need and want and passion that it made Scully’s toes curl and her hair stand up on end, made her cheeks go pink and her fingers clench into the skin of his shoulder, warm and tight underneath her grip.

The two of them stayed in that bed for the rest of the day, only leaving their place of peace and safety to get more coffee and the pizza Scully ordered for dinner. And for once, neither felt like running, neither felt like they needed to escape before they were trapped in something they couldn’t handle. They were together, wrapped up in each other and the sheets of Scully’s bed, and everything for a small moment in their chaotic lives was perfect.

[danadeservesadrink]

Will always got tired of holding his umbrella on their rainy fall walks, so Scully has taken to holding it for him. It’s worth the soggy shoulders just to see the look on her face as she chases after their son, who seems to care more about jumping in all the puddles than keeping his mom dry. She’ll press a kiss to his cheek later, brush a damp hair from his forehead, and tell him the wet puppy look suits him. He’d walk through a thousand rain storms for the both of them.  

Based on this ask sent to @baronessblixen that I couldn’t get out of my head. Happy ink/fictober! (Also this is my first adventure back into fan-art for a while so be nice!) 

[mulderist]

Fictober - Day 3

this list || emotional hurt/comfort || post-Redux II || read on AO3

prompt: “you did this?”

She opened her eyes as the car came to a stop. Rays of sunlight cast a warm glow on the street and she smiled when she realized she was finally home. He got out first and opened the back door to retrieve her bag. She breathed a contented sigh as he came around to her side of the car. She took his outstretched hand and steadied herself. Strength would return in time. He walked her up the steps into the building with a gentle guiding touch. 

He unlocked the door to her apartment and she slowly stepped inside. She moved to the end table and turned on the lamp bathing the room in a soft light. Everything was just as she left it. He moved past her and started towards the bedroom to put her bag down. She walked to the kitchen and as she got a glass of water she noticed the hospital ID band still attached to her wrist. Her finger traced the thin plastic. An unfortunate reminder.

“Hey, um now that you’re here I can head out if you want,” Mulder said from behind her. Her gaze was still on her wrist. He moved closer.

“Mulder?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you cut this off for me?” Her voice was raspy.

“Sure.” He saw a pair of scissors in a utensil caddy on the counter. She turner her hand over, exposing the underside of the wrist. He slipped the blade of the scissor under the band and ceremoniously snipped it away. A half smile pulled at her lips.

“I’m free,” she whispered. 

“C’mon. Let’s get you settled.” She nodded and went towards the bedroom. A small bedside lamp lit the room and she was surprised to find a set of pajamas on the bed and the covers turned down. It was wonderfully inviting. Her lips parted, trying to find something to say.

“You did this?” she asked looking up at him.

“Yeah, I wanted you to be comfortable when you got back home.” She embraced him, breathing him in.

“Stay with me,” she said into his chest. His hand caressed her hair as he held her frail frame. She pulled away and reached for the pajamas, not hesitating to change in front of him. He moved to the opposite side of the bed and pulled the covers down further watching her slide under the soft thread count. She turned to face him as he lay atop the covers on his side. He brushed a wash of hair off her cheek, his lips kissed her forehead. She was finally home for good.

@today-in-fic @xffictober

[xxsksxxx]

Liberating the Mirage

Summary:

When an assignment goes horribly wrong, Mulder has to race against time to find Scully.

But sometimes the line between reality and illusion blurs—and it turns out there’s more than one locked door that needs to be opened.  Notes:

This is my little contribution to Fictober, a yearly event that celebrates writing and reading—and fall. All of which are good things in my world. 

Since there’s no way I can come up with a new story every day, I’ve decided to write one fic that includes all prompts from the Fictober 2023 prompt list. They’re all in bold if you want to seek them out specifically. You can find the list here: Fictober 2023

This story is complete, but to keep in the spirit of Fictober, I’m posting one chapter a day.

I hope you’ll have as much fun reading this fic as I had writing it.

AO3 | @today-in-fic and @xffictober2023

Chapter 1: Trouble Loves Company

Bladensburg Road, Washington, D.C. Warehouse

“Motorcycle approaching from the left,” Scully reported crisply into the mouthpiece of her microphone. She unobtrusively observed the upcoming vehicle in her rearview mirror. “Estimated time of passage: 15 seconds.”

“Confirmed,” Mulder replied, his voice tinny through the earpiece attached to her head.

She pulled the sun visor down and pretended to check her makeup in the small mirror attached to the back as the motorcycle passed her van slowly. She watched out of the side of her eye to avoid causing any suspicion, but the driver didn’t seem to pay her any attention. Mulder's car discretely pulled out of its parking slot, only a few cars down the road, and followed at a distance.

“I believe it’s our target,” Mulder’s voice crackled through her earpiece. 

“Confirmed,” Skinner joined the conversation from his car on the other side of the warehouse. 

Scully squinted against the rising sun and watched as the motorcycle rounded the corner and disappeared from view, Mulder’s car not far behind it. “Visual contact lost,” she reported into her microphone. 

“Copy,” Skinner’s voice replied promptly through the line. “Maintain position, Agent Scully, in case of a potential escape.”

“Understood,” she confirmed and leaned back in her seat. All she could do now was wait. She turned her head to keep an eye on the warehouse, making sure she wouldn’t miss Eddie Connolly if he decided to try to escape through her side of the building.

*****

Mulder pressed his back against the stonewall and moved closer to the steel door Connolly had walked through only a few moments before. He checked his gun one last time before gripping the handle and carefully pulling the door open. He squeezed through the small opening he had created and closed the door softly.

The musty smell of old wooden crates filled the abandoned warehouse. He was surrounded by boxes that were stacked to the ceiling, and everything was eerily silent. Mulder tried to make out any sounds that would reveal where Connolly had disappeared to and carefully pulled up the tiny microphone at his collar. “I’m inside. I don’t see anyone.”

Careful to not step on anything that would give him away, he moved slowly across the room. After rounding a stack of old wooden boxes, he finally heard murmuring voices. He pressed his back to the wood and carefully looked around the corner. Connolly was animatedly talking to a tall man who was leaning against a table in the middle of the room. He seemed to try to explain something to the other man. From what Mulder could tell, the other man wasn’t impressed, his arms tightly crossed while listening.

Just as he was about to raise his gun, a third person joined the group, and Mulder swiftly moved his head back to avoid being seen. He cursed silently, wondering why there were three men. Their contact had told them Eddie Connolly was going to meet with the head of the group alone.

He couldn’t make out what the three men were talking about, but their conversation grew louder and more animated, suggesting they were discussing something quite important. Mulder debated risking another glance but turned his chin down into the collar of his tactical vest instead. “Our target met with two other men. It’s getting heated,” he whispered into his microphone.

“Three men? We only knew about one other person. Can you confirm?” Skinner’s voice sounded through Mulder’s earpiece.

“Confirmed,” he whispered and slowly moved his head back around the corner— just in time to watch the tall man giving a signal to the third person. Mulder scanned him with a quick glance. He was at least 6’5 and built like a brick wall. A bodyguard? Mulder wondered just as the burly henchman closed in and swiftly seized Connolly by the throat. The tall man moved closer and bent over Connolly, whispering something. Mulder watched the man’s eyes widen, but he couldn’t hear what they were talking about. He cursed again silently. He needed to get closer.

Maybe he could sneak around the back of the crates, he wondered, while carefully retreating from the corner. He eyed the boxes stacked around him with a critical eye.

As silently as possible, he crouched down and moved behind the next stack of boxes, slowly making his way closer to the group.

Just as he was about to get close enough to hear what the tall man was telling Connolly, the bodyguard looked up and spotted him.

Mulder had only a slit second to react. He raised his gun, aiming at the burly man. “Federal agent! Stop right there! Move into the light. Hands where I can see them!” he shouted. Dimly, he registered Skinner’s voice in his ear giving orders to storm the building and for Scully to watch the exit for anyone trying to escape.

For a second, the three men froze and stared at him. Then all hell broke loose as the tall man opened fire before darting around one of the tall crates, disappearing from view.

Mulder retreated quickly behind his stack of boxes, his heart racing. He tried to calm his breathing when suddenly a shadow rounded the corner and crashed into him. The thug landed on top of him, and all the air went straight out of Mulder’s lungs. For a moment, he couldn’t breathe.

The other man wasn’t faring any better. He cradled his arm in his left hand and tried to get past. Mulder tackled his legs and brought him back down, swiftly turning the man’s arm behind his back and kneeling on his lower back. The henchman screamed in pain.

Just then, Skinner came running onto the scene, followed by two other agents, who immediately swarmed out to search the warehouse.

Mulder tried to catch his breath while handcuffing his suspect. The man lay grunting on the floor, no longer a threat. “Did you get Connolly and our head guy?” he asked Skinner, jumping back to his feet.

Skinner held up a hand, listening intently to his earpiece. He let out a frustrated groan and turned back to Mulder. “This one here seems to be just a thug that follows orders. We’re searching the warehouse, and Scully got the front exit covered. It’s not too late to arrest them all, let’s go!” Skinner turned around, clearly expecting his agent to follow, but Mulder was rooted to the spot, staring at his boss with wide eyes.

Scully! Mulder thought frantically. In all the chaos of the last few minutes, he hadn’t heard Scully’s voice in the mix at all. The realization hit him like a truck. Scully would’ve reported in by now. Something must’ve happened.

“Scully!” he shouted and took off towards the front entrance in a dead run.

*****

Scully gingerly lifted her hands in the air, palms facing out. “My gun’s attached on my right side,” she said, pointing with her chin, her eyes never leaving the tall man standing in the open passenger side door, aiming his gun at her.

She turned her back all the way towards the driver’s side window, facing the armed man fully and giving him her full attention. The tall man got into the passenger seat without missing a beat and closed the door without moving his eyes away from her. “Hand me your gun,” he said icily and held out his empty hand towards her, making an impatient gesture with his fingers.

Slowly, she pulled the weapon from her waist, careful not to startle him. If I can slow him down enough, backup will be here ASAP, she thought. Mulder had probably already noticed that she hadn’t reported in. All she needed was some time.

“All right. I’m handing you my gun,” she replied and slowly moved her hand with the weapon closer to his outstretched hand.

“I wouldn’t play any games if I were you,” he said calmly, completely unfazed by the fact that several FBI agents were looking for him only a few feet away.

An icy chill ran down Scully’s back. This guy was no ordinary criminal, she realized. This man had seen far worse than an observation and bust from the FBI. She shouldn’t have underestimated either of the men. He’d been clever enough to know that the front door was under surveillance. That meant he’d come through the back where Skinner and the other agents had come in to back Mulder up, she thought. He’d known they wouldn’t expect him to come towards them instead of taking the supposedly easy front exit. He’d outsmarted them all.

He must’ve seen the realization hit her because his mouth moved into a sarcastic smirk. “I see we understand each other. So if you don’t want me to shoot the first person that comes running out of that building and make you drive me out of here anyway, I’d suggest you turn on this car and drive,” he said. “And make no mistake, if you try to trick me, and we get caught, I’m taking you with me!”

Scully offered no response and shifted her gaze to the front, fully aware that Mulder might burst through that door at any second, unprepared for anyone just waiting to shoot at him. If she wanted to make sure that he wasn’t killed, she needed to get them away from here. She turned the key and the car came to life effortlessly.

“Where do you want me to go,” she asked calmly, ignoring her racing heart.

“I don’t care, just drive!” the man said, looking outside the window towards the front entrance of the warehouse. When he was sure that no one was in sight, he turned his attention back to her.

Scully expertly steered the van onto the road, driving as slowly as possible, hoping that Mulder would notice what had occurred and reach her in time. However, the man sitting next to her had different plans. “What are you doing?!” he yelled and pressed his gun right into her side. “I said drive!”

With a sigh, she pressed her foot down on the accelerator, knowing she’d have to find another way to get out of this.

*****

Mulder sprinted towards the front exit in a dead run. He threw his shoulder against the door and shoved it open. Outside, he frantically scanned the sidewalk for Scully and the green van she’d been in. It wasn’t there.

His eyes moved up and down the street anxiously, catching sight of the van just as it gained speed. “Scully!” he yelled, sprinting in the direction of the disappearing van.

He ran as fast as he could, but the car was getting further and further away. By the time he reached the next traffic light, it had rounded a corner and disappeared from view. He grabbed his knees, breathing heavily. That’s when he remembered the microphone attached to his collar. “I need help,” he shouted. “They’ve got Scully!”

After taking a long look in the direction the van had disappeared, he turned and sprinted back to the warehouse as fast as he could.

***

Thank you so much for reading. You can also find this fic on AO3.

[xxsksxxx]

Liberating the Mirage

Summary:

When an assignment goes horribly wrong, Mulder has to race against time to find Scully.

But sometimes the line between reality and illusion blurs—and it turns out there’s more than one locked door that needs to be opened.

Notes:

This is my contribution to Fictober, a yearly event that celebrates writing and reading—and fall. All of which are good things in my world.

Since there’s no way I can come up with a new story every day, I’ve decided to write one fic that includes all prompts from the Fictober 2023 prompt list. They’re all in bold if you want to seek them out specifically. You can find the list here: Fictober 202

I’m dedicating this final chapter to @baronessblixen who’s encouraged me throughout this journey!

I would’ve never had the courage to try my hand at writing (and actually posting!) if it wasn’t for her. So, thank you, my friend.

I hope you’ll have as much fun reading this fic as I had writing it.

AO3 | Start at the Beginning | @today-in-fic and @xffictober2023

Epilogue

Holy Cross Memorial Hospital, Washington, D.C.

Mulder pressed his back against the wall of the long hallway and stealthily crept from door to door. If he didn’t have to worry about getting caught, he would’ve laughed. It seemed creeping along walls was all he did these days. The consequences of getting caught this time would be very different from last night though, even if they were not any less dire. Hospitals didn’t appreciate people sneaking into patients’ rooms after visiting hours, he’d learned over the years. Usually, he didn’t care about those things, but this time he didn’t want to take any chances.

When he finally reached the door marked with the number 603 he let out a breath and took a careful look around. He was alone in the hallway; the only sound was the humming of the overhead neon lights. He silently opened the heavy door to the hospital room and sneaked inside, quickly closing it behind him again. Someone had drawn the blinds, and only small slivers of sunlight fell onto the white covers of the bed standing close to the window.

Scully was lying in her hospital bed, her eyes closed. He quietly walked over to her bedside, his sneakers squeaking softly on the linoleum floor, and stared down at her. The machine monitoring her blood pressure hummed softly in the dimly lit room.

Her breath was slow and deep, and Mulder let out a relieved sigh. It would take some time until he stopped worrying after her latest adventure. His fingers brushed a strand of hair off of her forehead, and the slight contact of his hand with her face caused her to stir, her eyes fluttering open to look at him.

“Mulder? What are you doing here?” she asked, not the slightest hint of surprise in her voice at seeing him there.

“I needed to see you. Make sure you’re okay,” he said simply and took her hand in his, playing tag with her thumb. Scully watched their hands silently, pressing her thumb back against his, lost in thought.

“I’m fine, Mulder,” she said reverently. “There’s just a lot on my mind.”

Mulder nodded while keeping his gaze on their still joined hands, afraid she’d be able to read him like a book. “I talked to Skinner this morning. Our host was still in the basement where we had locked him up. It seems he couldn’t find a way out either.”

Scully looked up. “What about Connolly? Did they catch him as well?”

Mulder shook his head, not raising his eyes. “No. There’s no trace of him. He disappeared.”

Scully stayed silent, returning her eyes to their joined hands after a while.

“Did you talk to the doctor? When will you be able to go home?” Mulder finally asked, breaking the silence.

“Tomorrow. They did a full check-up and blood work today. I had an allergic reaction to the drug he injected me with. But apart from a few scratches and bruises, I’m okay now.”

Mulder finally raised his eyes to hers. “Who’s going to take care of you? Is your mother coming over or do you want me to pick you up?”

Scully looked up at him and then quickly avoided his eyes again. “Would you mind taking me home tomorrow? My mom’s just going to fuss and worry, and I’d rather not have her make a big deal out of a few bruises.” She kept fiddling with his thumb, circling hers around it again and again.

Mulder watched her for a moment. “What’s going on, Scully?” he asked softly.

“What do you mean,” she replied, still not looking at him.

Mulder squeezed her hand gently as he curled his fingers over her thumb, forcing it down into his palm. “You’re not looking at me, Scully. What’s this about,” he hesitated as a thought suddenly struck him. “Is this about our kiss?” he asked quietly.

Scully’s fingers twitched in his grasp. Bull’s eye, he thought grimly. His heart picked up speed, and he started to sweat. “Do you regret it, Scully?” he asked monotonously, his face a mask even though his heart was beating wildly.

Scully quickly looked up at him, searching his face. “Do you?” she asked, her face unreadable.

“No, I don’t,” he said firmly. “But if you do, I… I want you to know I understand. I know it wasn’t the best of circumstances, and you were probably still feeling the drugs,” he rambled nervously. “So, what I’m trying to say here is, that if you didn’t like it, and you’d rather forget it happened…” he waved his free hand around vaguely.

“I’m not saying I didn’t like it,” Scully said, amusement tinging her voice.

Mulder dropped their joined hands down to the bed covers and exhaled. “What are you saying then, Scully?” he asked, watching her intently.

“If I remember correctly, Mulder, it was me who kissed you. And I don’t want to forget. But in case you forgot, I can remind you,” she said with a smile.

She tugged on his hand in hers and pulled him closer, tenderly putting her free hand behind his neck.

Mulder was watching her with wide eyes, and she pulled him in for a kiss. This time he didn’t hesitate and deepened the kiss immediately, pressing his lips to hers.

Neither of them noticed the rays of the setting sun streaming through the hospital window, bathing the hospital room in soothing colors and engulfing their faces in a warm glow.

The End.

***

Thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed my contribution to Fictober 2023.

And if you want to comment, please feel free. You'd make my day—just be kind. You can also find this fic on AO3.