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She knows what she’s doing when she whispers to him, planning on driving him a little up the wall if only to see just how far she can push the envelope.  “Oh, a thing for red heads huh?  Well I’m sorry I’m not Ms. October.”  She rolls her eyes, ignoring him as he murmurs her name.  Oh, the tone he takes tells her everything she needs to know.  

She is sucessful.

However, his next course of action causes her to squeal, face covered in the batter she smeared on his cheek and devolved into laughter against his lips.  She’s happy, and while Scully isn’t entirely depressive, she can, without a doubt, say this is the happiest she’s ever been, and it shows in the way her kisses give way to laughter, bright eyes watching him for a moment before kissing him again, and again, before a nip comes to his lower lip,  “you had a bit of batter there…”  She grins, and then goes to bite the apple of his cheek, trailing her tongue where her teeth grazed ever so gently.  “I love you…” 

“You’ll be surprised to know, Mulder, that having a girlfriend, and having bedpost notches are two different beasts…” She teases again, rolling her eyes.  In a way, she knows Mulder wasn’t a womanizer (though a part of her questions that a bit).  “If getting the lava lamp for free and it doesnt match my decor, is the reward for cleaning out your hoarding stash, then I’ll have to politely decline.”

She lets him get comfortable on the bed, making him take the tylenol before he lies down.  She’s going over her training, the years of medical school that taught her how to treat colds, fevers.  Her patients were mostly deceased.  Dead folks didn’t get fevers.   Did she have popsicles to help bring down the internal temperature?  If not, she could put him in the bath.  Anything to get the fever down…  “Rest, Mulder.”  She grabbed the thin sheet for him and pulled it over his long frame.  “I know you’re cold but the comforter will make it worse.  So the sheet is what you get.  When you start sweating and getting hot, then you can come out.”  She doesn’t plan on leaving him though, not for long.  If anything, she’s going to get on helping him the only way she knows how:  Working.  Maybe she can run bullet fragments once the body comes in.  Though that would take a few hours at best.  For now, she too was playing the waiting game.  

Instead of leaving him, she quietly padded to her dresser and finds comfortable pants before sitting on the floor beside him, back leaning against the bed with her glasses on, a pile of paperwork in her hands.

“it likely ended up as a gift from one of your many women that came in and out.”  Scully jokes, rolling her eyes.  In a way, she imagines a young handsome Mulder being quit the skirt chaser in Oxford.  Though, she somewhat knows that he wasn’t as bad as she makes him out to be.  “I never had a lava lamp.”

“Thankfully, the United States Government footed the bill for the expensive dress,” she holds it to her chest with a hand across her breasts, looking over her shoulder at him.  “Thank you though,”  A soft smile, softer than the work smile she dons.  This one is sincere.  She’d blame it on the case if she needed to.

He leaves, and moments later, she pokes her head out to announce she’s skirting through to go up the stairs.  “Maybe we should decorate the wall..” She says in passing, feet pattering across the floor as she trots past, and pokes her head around the door frame.  “Coast is clear!  I’m going to go get in the bed.  You get some rest too Mulder.  Busy day tomorrow.  I hope my suitcase comes…”

Her voice trails off, though she’s still talking, “Along with some pants because going around the house with no pants on isn’t appropriate considering we arent married YET.”  She yelps the last bit, disappearing into her bedroom a moment later.

“Well if someone doesn’t give you any type of guidance, you’ll be left eating McDonald’s and jacking off to Ms. April.  Or May.  Or god forbid, you really liked July this year.”  She rolls her eyes, kissing the tip of his finger as he points it at her.  Of course she’s bossy.  She’s never been one to stand down from anything, or really play the submissive.  Though, in Mulder’s case, she actually does dance around with following his instructions.

Most of the time.

Okay, not really.  Considering nearly every time he’s asked her to stay put she never does it.

“Ohhhhhhhhh hoooo..” She laughs, looking at the smear of batter on his cheek, and she tilts her head.  With her tongue pushed against the inside of her lower lip, she tucks it in and bites gently…and there’s a defiant twinkle in her eye.  “Fox…” she whispers warmly, in the same tone she gave him in the bedroom.  She leans forward, eyes wide and scanning his face in a manner that is nothing but seductive, and whispers against his lips…far enough back to avoid a kiss, but enough to get the sultry meaning across.  “You should know by now that I’m quite the rebellious type…”  

Another dip of her finger in the batter.  The same whisper follows her words as she distracts him with a slow run of her heel against the back of his thigh.

“And while that authoritative tone is hot, that’s going to be a no from me.”

With that, she smears another streak across his cheek, laughing as she pulls away.

“What’re you going to do about it, Agent Mulder?”

As if he’d get rid of her that easily.  If he wasn’t so sick or sad, she may have just slapped the shit out of him for thinking that way.  “Mulder.”  She murmurs, sitting on the bed beside him, turning his head enough to press her forehead to his.  “Look at me, Mulder.”  She whispers, gently, coercing him back to the here and now, if only for a moment.  “I don’t care what dark path we’re going down, I’m going to be the torch guiding the way.  So if you don’t shut up with that talk, I’m…”  going to slap the taste out of your mouth.  “…going to have to prove it to you some other way.”  Like slapping the taste out your mouth.  “I’m going to get you a cold rag, you’re going to lay down, and we’re going to figure this out.  You’re too ill to do anything in this shape.  Do you understand me?”  She’s got a tone of authority in her words, lifting up from the couch to get a cold wash cloth, some motrin from the cabinet and a glass of water.  “Take this.  Put this on your forehead.  Do you want me to stay in here with you, or give you quiet to rest?”

Scully can see when he shows his affection, even if he thinks it is subtle or often missed.  on the contrary, Scully simply doesn’t act on it, far too worried behind the walls of her heart that this would just end badly.  You don’t bite the hand that feeds, and you don’t get into relationships with coworkers…two cardinal rules of life, or so she thought.  Then again, what she and Mulder share now is something far past friendship and dances on the edge of something more.  She wonders how long they can go on this way, stuck in a tango of not knowing where they’re going on a more spiritual level.  

Not for long, she can imagine.  Mulder is patient, but Scully is not.

“Hm?”  She gazes up at him as she finally sits up, adjusting her shirt and sheets to make sure it covers the satin silk of her panties…as if he didn’t see it last night when he yanked her pants off of her hips.  “yes, they make your ass look fat.  That and those french fries you ate last night.”  She teases him, rolling her eyes.  If anything, he’s got a nice ass.  Squeezable.

She wants to take the pain from him, and she can’t.  She absolutely can’t make this better for him.  For Fox, there is no taking this pain from him, and how she wishes she could.  She understands the loss of a father, though she knows his relationship with the elder Mulder was strained at best.  It still doesn’t take away that his father is dead.  His father is dead, and he had to bear witness to it.  “Sit, Mulder,” her words are quiet, trying to usher him to sit down enough to finish getting his soiled, wet clothes off of him, and she ends up crouched between his knees, her hands on his strong jaw.  She swipes at his ears softly, “Oh, Mulder…”  Her heart shatters for him, and she bites her lower lip to keep herself stoic.  “I will help you in anyway possible, you know that, Mulder.  I promise.  But you can’t fix it now….I can’t fix it now.”  Another swipe at his tears, a gentle kiss to his forehead, “You are burning up….Rest, Mulder.  Rest for now.  We’ll figure this out.  I’ll figure this out…”

It’s a constant push and pull, and perhaps that is the way of the universe.  They say every person is comprised of stardust….from a universe that is ever expanding and shrinking all at the same time and it is just the nature of the universe around them.  The same universe he stares at in awe with the same look he watches her with when he believes she isn’t looking…or when he believes she’s asleep, resting in the darkness in a motel room they aren’t meant to be sharing.  It stops her breath somewhere in her throat, the seeds of what she wants to say to him growing in the expanse of her ribs and suppressed by logic.  He doesn’t like you that way Scully.  That isn’t logical.  He’s only a coworker, a partner.  

Nothing more. 

But oh, Scully can only lie to herself for so long.  As he bent over, butt stretching his boxers, she reaches out with her foot to playfully “kick” him there, goosing him as she rolls her eyes.  But it does leave her a little weak, and she’s grateful to be laying down still as she takes in the broad expanse of his chest, the dark hair that matches the head of hair he keeps fluffed just right, and the dip of his obliques as they dive into his pants that hang low and loose on his hips.  He’s ….

…hot.  She’d cross herself if he wasn’t looking.

“No, I was simply naming our immediate options for food.  I’ll pass on the nabs, and I’ll wait until we’re on the road.”

“mhm, sure you are, Mulder…” She teases him, though she too knows he’s not lying.  Mostly because she can distinguish his truths from his made up bullshit.  This was one of those truths.  He is making up for lost time, one ass smack at a time.  “I know you, you do have a bossy streak.”  

She settles on the counter as he lifts her, rolling her eyes, “Mulder, I’m not that far away.  No different than any other day…Grab the chocolate chips….” She takes them from him when he does as he’s told, only to feel him settling in between her knees.  She hooks her feet loosely around his thighs, and leans up, using the back of his neck for balance to steal a kiss, fingers buried in his dark hair.  She leans back, opening the box of Bisquick and dumping it into the bowl, sputtering as the flour dust poofs up and dusts her chin.  Followed by milk and chocolate chips, she mixes it quickly, only to take a finger full of it….

….and smear it on his cheek.

“I’ll believe it when I see it, Fox Mulder….”  She doesn’t believe him that he doesn’t have an old stash.  God help her, she can only imagine the stash he had in college.  “Do they still make Lava lamps?  That might be a relic, Mulder.”

HE BRINGS A SMILE TO her lips almost every time he speaks now, for mulder is one of the few that knows just what to say to lift her spirits. even in her doubts and worries regarding their son, he always manages to bring her out of it.   “ i could say the same thing about you being a father… but it’s not going to be easy, mulder. you know that, right? ”   there’s no denying the fact that danger always follows them closely, but it’ll be even worse once they have this child; it’s why scully is always worried lately.

Come what may.  She will hold his hand and face whatever comes their way.  That much she is certain of.  Because this has been a long time coming, building and building, and finally with a playful kiss filled with static electricity and emotion, the tension gave way like a rubber band pulled so taut it breaks free of it’s bonds.  

“Now I know just how to get to you,” She gives a soft snort, a laugh lost somewhere between kisses before his stomach speaks and sings to her the hungry song, demanding to be fed.  She does groan, however, almost in protest at the idea of leaving the warmth of the bed, the sheets tangled from their romp and roll only a short while ago.  She fixes his shirt she wears, and lets it dust her thighs, only to jump when he swats her ass.  With a toss of her shortish hair, she looks over her shoulder with a grin, “Someone is asserting their dominance early.  I’ll cook the pancakes….if you’ll help me mix the batter.”  She’s so small when she’s not wearing her heels, petite framed and short stature, she’s almost dwarfed next to him, but she doesnt mind it in the least, taking his hand and guiding him through the house to the kitchen where she begins getting the supplies out of the cabinets.