![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
colebaltblue.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
xf_is_loveTitle: Hey Scully
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
colebaltblue
Pairing: Mulder/Scully
Rating: PG
Summary: A series of 15, 100-word drabble vignettes set after "The Goldberg Variations."
Author's Note: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
xf_is_love. Thank you to my beta for dealing with my complete and utterly pointless procrastination, you're the best! Feedback is always appreciated!
Fig. 1
"Hey Scully, if Weems had an inordinate amount of luck, more than, say, your average person, wouldn't it stand to reason that there is someone out there in this world with the exact opposite?"
"You mean someone who experienced only bad luck?"
"Yeah. Think about it, Scully. The world's unluckiest person."
"You mean, like falling through an apartment floor after turning a sink’s shutoff valve the wrong way?"
Mulder looked at Scully. She was sitting next to him in the car, staring straight ahead with a smug look on her face. "Are you implying something, Scully?"
"It's your theory, Mulder."
Fig. 2
"Hey Scully, does your family have any connections to the Irish mob?"
Scully raised an eyebrow in reply, wary of where Mulder appeared to be headed.
"I mean, if I needed someone thrown off a building, do you have an uncle, cousin, maybe a grandmother that I could call?"
"Mulder, if you need someone thrown off a building, I’m sure you can find plenty of people not related to me to do it."
"So you have an Irish mob connection?"
"Well, I know that my brother would throw you off a building, and right now I’m willing to let him."
Fig. 3
"Hey Scully, if--"
"No, Mulder."
"You don't even know what I was going to ask."
"I have a pretty good idea, and whatever it is, Mulder, I won’t entertain it. If you'd like to ask me something outright, please feel free."
"But..." Mulder paused and took a bite of his Chicago-style pizza to give himself time to think. Scully looked at him expectantly while he chewed.
"Why now? Why us now?" he asked quietly.
"Because I finally realized that I could live with your bad luck and my brother will only throw you off a building if I ask."
Fig. 4
"Hey Scully."
"Mulder, we discussed this. I write the reports because Skinner prefers it that way. If you continue to offer editorial comments over my shoulder, then I will kick you out."
Scully looked him in the eye. "And I will not let you back in," she continued slowly.
He sat down on the bed. She was wearing pajamas and he was in boxers and a t-shirt. If he was very lucky, they would both be sleeping in the bed that he was sitting on. He had the distinct feeling that if he continued, they would end up sleeping alone.
Fig. 5
Scully closed the laptop when the clock read 10:52 p.m. Mulder had been trying not to fidget on the bed while he watched television with the sound turned off, not wanting to bother her.
She stretched, stood, and walked over to the bed and frowned at his sprawl occupying most of the bed. Mulder made room for her on half and watched as she curled up against the headboard, away from him, not inviting touch.
"Hey Scully," he said, reaching out a finger to brush along her knuckles.
She seemed to understand and hooked her finger in his. "Hey, Mulder."
Fig. 6
"Hey Scully," she heard Mulder murmur next to her.
Her "What?" in reply failed to form properly in her mouth and came out as just a sound. She then started awake, still propped up against the headboard. Mulder's face was close to her own and his hand was raised as if to touch her. He smiled and lowered it.
"You fell asleep, sleepyhead."
Scully smiled and turned, resting her head on his shoulder and legs against his waist. He hooked his arm around her curled legs and felt her warmth. He smiled and promised himself he would remember this moment.
Fig. 7
"Hey Scully," he said softly as he awoke a few hours later. They had both moved further down the bed and she had curled herself around him in her sleep.
Despite the heat of her body against him, he knew she would wake up cold and send him back to his room. Better to leave voluntarily than be banished. He woke her up just enough to get her under the covers before softly kissing her cheek and whispering goodnight.
He promised himself he'd bring her coffee and a Danish in the morning as he let himself out of her room.
Fig. 8
"Hey Scully," he said as she answered the door. She reached for the coffee without replying.
"Good morning, Mulder, how did you sleep, Mulder, thanks for the coffee, Mulder," he supplied for her.
"Thank you for making sure I didn't wake up cold last night, Mulder."
He smiled. That was enough. He watched as she double-checked the room before joining him at the door.
"We have time to stop by the hospital to see Richie after we're done at the field office, if you'd like."
She smiled and kissed him softly on the cheek. "Thank you for the coffee, Mulder."
Fig. 9
"Hey Mulder?" she said as they sat in the back of the taxi.
"Yeah?" he responded as he watched the pedestrians outpace them in the morning traffic.
"Which are you more proud of: figuring out your X-File or busting the Catrona crime syndicate?"
Mulder looked at her, trying to decide what she was truly asking. Her expression gave away nothing. He took it at face value. "Well, breaking up a mob family will definitely look better on my resumé."
"But you're more proud of figuring out Henry Weems?"
"Is that bad?"
"No, Mulder, I don't think it's bad at all."
Fig. 10
They stood in the elevator alone, riding down the thirteen flights to the ground floor. On floor eleven he cupped her cheek in his hand and kissed her.
At floor six, she stepped back and gave him a look that indicated she was not pleased with him.
"Hey Scully," he said just after the door chimed open on floor G. "When?"
"Not then, Mulder."
"Well then, when?"
"At this rate, not again," she said shortly as he followed her quick stride through the lobby and out the front door. She was moving fast, but he didn't think she was angry.
Fig. 11
"Hey Scully," he said to catch her attention before gesturing down the hallway. She had been admiring the children's artwork on the wall.
She turned and followed him. He let her step just ahead of him and placed his hand on her back. She was half a stride ahead of him, but their silent communication was in synch as they walked down the hall together.
"What time is the flight?" she asked as she reached to open the door.
"4:55," he answered. He slid his hand down to squeeze her hip before they stepped through the door, smiling at Richie.
Fig. 12
"Hey Scully, watch my bag. I'm going to the bathroom."
Scully nodded, not looking up from the gossip magazine she was engrossed in, trying to finish it before their flight. She only read them in airports, loath to admit she even bought them. Airports were gossip-rag neutral territory, airplanes weren't.
He wandered off to find the bathroom and something to do other than read over her shoulder. He threw himself down next to her when he returned, putting his arm around her shoulders.
She reached up and laced her fingers with his, resting their hands on her shoulder. He smiled.
Fig. 13
"Hey Scully, want to join the mile high club?" Mulder asked as the flight attendants demonstrated the seat buckles.
He saw a twitch of a smile as she rolled her eyes. She leaned down to dig the newest edition of JAMA out of her bag and he caught a glimpse of skin between her shirt and pants.
Mulder rested his hand on her thigh as she settled in to read an article.
Later, after rearranging herself sideways and hooked her legs over his, he softly stroked her knee. She drifted off, comforted by his touch and warmed by his presence.
Fig. 14
"Hey Scully, take my bags. I'll meet you there."
"I told you that you'd have to go after four Cokes."
He left her and jogged off toward the bathroom while she continued on to the taxi stand. He'd catch up and then cut her in line while lying to her about washing his hands.
She felt his presence a second before he dropped a kiss on her cheek and wrapped an arm around her waist with a "Thanks, honey." He ignored her when she glared.
When it was their turn, he said, "Georgetown," and got in the cab with her.
Fig. 15
He didn't need to walk her up to her door, but he did. He didn't need to take her coat, but he did. He didn't need to press her up against the wall and kiss her slowly, but he did.
"Hey Scully," he said, before kissing her again.
"Yeah?" she replied, before pulling his head down a little lower.
"We're not always going to play by your rules. Sometimes I just want to kiss you when I want to kiss you."
"Hey Mulder," she said just before she nibbled at his bottom lip. "When have you ever followed my rules?"
The End
Author:
colebaltbluePairing: Mulder/Scully
Rating: PG
Summary: A series of 15, 100-word drabble vignettes set after "The Goldberg Variations."
Author's Note: Written for
xf_is_love. Thank you to my beta for dealing with my complete and utterly pointless procrastination, you're the best! Feedback is always appreciated!Fig. 1
"Hey Scully, if Weems had an inordinate amount of luck, more than, say, your average person, wouldn't it stand to reason that there is someone out there in this world with the exact opposite?"
"You mean someone who experienced only bad luck?"
"Yeah. Think about it, Scully. The world's unluckiest person."
"You mean, like falling through an apartment floor after turning a sink’s shutoff valve the wrong way?"
Mulder looked at Scully. She was sitting next to him in the car, staring straight ahead with a smug look on her face. "Are you implying something, Scully?"
"It's your theory, Mulder."
Fig. 2
"Hey Scully, does your family have any connections to the Irish mob?"
Scully raised an eyebrow in reply, wary of where Mulder appeared to be headed.
"I mean, if I needed someone thrown off a building, do you have an uncle, cousin, maybe a grandmother that I could call?"
"Mulder, if you need someone thrown off a building, I’m sure you can find plenty of people not related to me to do it."
"So you have an Irish mob connection?"
"Well, I know that my brother would throw you off a building, and right now I’m willing to let him."
Fig. 3
"Hey Scully, if--"
"No, Mulder."
"You don't even know what I was going to ask."
"I have a pretty good idea, and whatever it is, Mulder, I won’t entertain it. If you'd like to ask me something outright, please feel free."
"But..." Mulder paused and took a bite of his Chicago-style pizza to give himself time to think. Scully looked at him expectantly while he chewed.
"Why now? Why us now?" he asked quietly.
"Because I finally realized that I could live with your bad luck and my brother will only throw you off a building if I ask."
Fig. 4
"Hey Scully."
"Mulder, we discussed this. I write the reports because Skinner prefers it that way. If you continue to offer editorial comments over my shoulder, then I will kick you out."
Scully looked him in the eye. "And I will not let you back in," she continued slowly.
He sat down on the bed. She was wearing pajamas and he was in boxers and a t-shirt. If he was very lucky, they would both be sleeping in the bed that he was sitting on. He had the distinct feeling that if he continued, they would end up sleeping alone.
Fig. 5
Scully closed the laptop when the clock read 10:52 p.m. Mulder had been trying not to fidget on the bed while he watched television with the sound turned off, not wanting to bother her.
She stretched, stood, and walked over to the bed and frowned at his sprawl occupying most of the bed. Mulder made room for her on half and watched as she curled up against the headboard, away from him, not inviting touch.
"Hey Scully," he said, reaching out a finger to brush along her knuckles.
She seemed to understand and hooked her finger in his. "Hey, Mulder."
Fig. 6
"Hey Scully," she heard Mulder murmur next to her.
Her "What?" in reply failed to form properly in her mouth and came out as just a sound. She then started awake, still propped up against the headboard. Mulder's face was close to her own and his hand was raised as if to touch her. He smiled and lowered it.
"You fell asleep, sleepyhead."
Scully smiled and turned, resting her head on his shoulder and legs against his waist. He hooked his arm around her curled legs and felt her warmth. He smiled and promised himself he would remember this moment.
Fig. 7
"Hey Scully," he said softly as he awoke a few hours later. They had both moved further down the bed and she had curled herself around him in her sleep.
Despite the heat of her body against him, he knew she would wake up cold and send him back to his room. Better to leave voluntarily than be banished. He woke her up just enough to get her under the covers before softly kissing her cheek and whispering goodnight.
He promised himself he'd bring her coffee and a Danish in the morning as he let himself out of her room.
Fig. 8
"Hey Scully," he said as she answered the door. She reached for the coffee without replying.
"Good morning, Mulder, how did you sleep, Mulder, thanks for the coffee, Mulder," he supplied for her.
"Thank you for making sure I didn't wake up cold last night, Mulder."
He smiled. That was enough. He watched as she double-checked the room before joining him at the door.
"We have time to stop by the hospital to see Richie after we're done at the field office, if you'd like."
She smiled and kissed him softly on the cheek. "Thank you for the coffee, Mulder."
Fig. 9
"Hey Mulder?" she said as they sat in the back of the taxi.
"Yeah?" he responded as he watched the pedestrians outpace them in the morning traffic.
"Which are you more proud of: figuring out your X-File or busting the Catrona crime syndicate?"
Mulder looked at her, trying to decide what she was truly asking. Her expression gave away nothing. He took it at face value. "Well, breaking up a mob family will definitely look better on my resumé."
"But you're more proud of figuring out Henry Weems?"
"Is that bad?"
"No, Mulder, I don't think it's bad at all."
Fig. 10
They stood in the elevator alone, riding down the thirteen flights to the ground floor. On floor eleven he cupped her cheek in his hand and kissed her.
At floor six, she stepped back and gave him a look that indicated she was not pleased with him.
"Hey Scully," he said just after the door chimed open on floor G. "When?"
"Not then, Mulder."
"Well then, when?"
"At this rate, not again," she said shortly as he followed her quick stride through the lobby and out the front door. She was moving fast, but he didn't think she was angry.
Fig. 11
"Hey Scully," he said to catch her attention before gesturing down the hallway. She had been admiring the children's artwork on the wall.
She turned and followed him. He let her step just ahead of him and placed his hand on her back. She was half a stride ahead of him, but their silent communication was in synch as they walked down the hall together.
"What time is the flight?" she asked as she reached to open the door.
"4:55," he answered. He slid his hand down to squeeze her hip before they stepped through the door, smiling at Richie.
Fig. 12
"Hey Scully, watch my bag. I'm going to the bathroom."
Scully nodded, not looking up from the gossip magazine she was engrossed in, trying to finish it before their flight. She only read them in airports, loath to admit she even bought them. Airports were gossip-rag neutral territory, airplanes weren't.
He wandered off to find the bathroom and something to do other than read over her shoulder. He threw himself down next to her when he returned, putting his arm around her shoulders.
She reached up and laced her fingers with his, resting their hands on her shoulder. He smiled.
Fig. 13
"Hey Scully, want to join the mile high club?" Mulder asked as the flight attendants demonstrated the seat buckles.
He saw a twitch of a smile as she rolled her eyes. She leaned down to dig the newest edition of JAMA out of her bag and he caught a glimpse of skin between her shirt and pants.
Mulder rested his hand on her thigh as she settled in to read an article.
Later, after rearranging herself sideways and hooked her legs over his, he softly stroked her knee. She drifted off, comforted by his touch and warmed by his presence.
Fig. 14
"Hey Scully, take my bags. I'll meet you there."
"I told you that you'd have to go after four Cokes."
He left her and jogged off toward the bathroom while she continued on to the taxi stand. He'd catch up and then cut her in line while lying to her about washing his hands.
She felt his presence a second before he dropped a kiss on her cheek and wrapped an arm around her waist with a "Thanks, honey." He ignored her when she glared.
When it was their turn, he said, "Georgetown," and got in the cab with her.
Fig. 15
He didn't need to walk her up to her door, but he did. He didn't need to take her coat, but he did. He didn't need to press her up against the wall and kiss her slowly, but he did.
"Hey Scully," he said, before kissing her again.
"Yeah?" she replied, before pulling his head down a little lower.
"We're not always going to play by your rules. Sometimes I just want to kiss you when I want to kiss you."
"Hey Mulder," she said just before she nibbled at his bottom lip. "When have you ever followed my rules?"
The End
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}