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skelavender · 1 month

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“Still, my mom is going to imply…” “I know. It’s not serious. I mean, it’s not like we’re married or anything.” Scully chuckles and pushes up onto her toes to press a kiss to his cheek. “Now that’s not going to help dissuade the rumors, Agent Scully.” He teases. “At this point, I don’t think there’s any hope.” OR After a year of platonic marriage, things start to change.

read chapter one of you are in love on ao3, or below the cut!

One look, dark room

Meant just for you

Time moved too fast

You play it back

Buttons on a coat

Light-hearted joke

No proof, not much

But you saw enough

***

November 1996

There are flowers on Mulder’s desk.

A bouquet of… well, Mulder’s not great with flowers, but they’re all purple. There’s lavender, he knows that, and what he’s guessing are violets and irises. The last he can’t recognize, but it looks like a purple daisy. Maybe it is just a purple daisy? He didn’t know they made those.

As he steps further into the office, he notices Scully behind the desk. She had been gone when he woke up, which was unusual for them, but had left a note on the coffee maker saying she had some errands to run before work and she would meet him there. It was folded and in his pocket.

“Good morning,” she greets.

“Hey. Who sent you flowers?”

Scully raises one eyebrow and a small smirk graces her face, a challenge. “Check the card.”

He looks at her with curiosity and approaches the desk. He plucks the card out of the little fork, and when he unfolds it, he blinks dumbly a couple times.

Happy anniversary, sweetheart.

Oh.

It wasn’t as though he’d forgotten. Of course not, not in a million years. Her gift is waiting at home, on top of the bookshelf in their home office where she could neither see nor reach. That was part of why he’d been disappointed when he woke up to a cold bed. He had wanted to give it to her before work, but she left before he got the chance. He had ordered personalized stationery for her, paper being the traditional gift for a first wedding anniversary, from a store down in Rosslyn. They have Special Agent Dana Scully, M.D. letterpressed across the top in green, with a notepad to match.

“I don’t think anybody has ever gotten me flowers before.” He notes with a dreamy tone to his voice. Scully has impressed him.

Her satisfied expression softens. “I’m glad I could be the first.”

“Thank you, Scully. I love them.”

“You’re welcome.”

“God,” he laughs and ducks his head. “I can’t believe it’s been a year. It’s flown by.”

“It has, hasn’t it.”

“It seems like just last month we were averaging a hospital visit every two weeks.”

Scully snorts, “Not that we’re that far off.”

Mulder chuckles, and rounds the desk to peck her cheek. “I didn’t forget, by the way. Your gift is at home. I’ll give it to you this evening.”

“I didn’t think you had.” She mirrors the small kiss and Mudler retreats to the chair Scully usually sits in. If she wants the desk today, she can sure as hell have it.

***

Scully pulls up outside her mother’s house and parks the car. She’s unbuckling her seatbelt when his hand shoots out and stops her. Her eyes shoot up to meet his, one brow raised.

He’s been thinking about it since Maggie called him to extend the invitation to the dinner. When they were first discussing getting married, Scully was concerned about her mother finding out. She had mentioned to him that she didn’t think her mother would keep the secret, but he suspected that she was afraid she wouldn’t approve of what was essentially a sham union.

But Mulder wears his ring, and people tend to be curious.

Most of the time he can get away with vague answers that aren’t really lies, but he knows Mrs. Scully would grill him about it. He can only answer so many questions by talking about Scully without really talking about Scully before her mother notices.

“Your mom still doesn’t know, right?”

Scully knows what he’s talking about immediately. “No. Only that we’re living together.”

He slips his ring off his finger and holds it out to her, “Will you hold onto this for me?” Her mouth forms a little O. “She’ll have questions. There are only so many ways I can skirt them.”

“Of course,” she says. Her hands trace the neckline of her cardigan. He’s about to ask what she’s doing as he’s still holding the ring out to her in a flat palm, until the gold chain pops out and she undoes the clasp.

It would be so easy to forget about it. That she also wears the ring. That their union isn’t one-sided. That she’s as intertwined with him as he is with her. She wears it openly at home, sometimes, but the necklace remains hidden when they’re out and about. Despite that, Mulder, with a possessive streak that he tries to damp down, remembers. The image of her ring laid against her chest, or the fleeting vision of it on her finger for a couple days in the hospital, is settled into its own corner of his mind. He thinks of it more often than he’d like to admit.

Scully plucks the ring from Mulder’s hand and slides it onto the chain. It clinks into place next to hers. Two hearts, strung together.

“Thank you for mentioning that, I hadn’t considered it,“ The thought of hiding you hadn’t crossed my mind, she doesn’t say. She tucks the necklace back into her shirt and goes to unbuckle her seatbelt again. “You ready?”

Mulder nods, and they approach the Scully residence.

“She does think that we’re dating, you know.” Scully says as they walk up the pathway side by side.

“Really?”

“I tried to explain we’re living together because of the convenience, but she was not convinced.”

Mulder’s hand goes to the small of Scully’s back as she does up the couple steps onto the porch. “I’m not surprised. She always seemed to think we were…”

“I know. But now she’s pretty damn sure of it.”

“You did your best.”

Scully wonders how different things would be if they were… romantically entangled. Would he have fought her mother’s Thanksgiving invitation so hard? Would his hand be in hers, or around her shoulders, instead of on her back? Would he drop a kiss onto her lips on her mother’s front porch before facing the crowd inside?

She steps back and her eyes crawl up and down Mulder’s form. One of the buttons on his shirt doesn’t match, she notices. The cleaner would have attached a closer match, so he must have done it himself.

Who had taught him to sew a button? It’s not a skill she would expect him to have. She can’t exactly picture his mother sitting him down to teach him. Every time Scully thinks she finally knows Mulder, finally understands him, something new surfaces that makes her rethink him.

Scully sucks in a breath and refocuses. “Still, she’s going to imply…”

“I know. It’s not serious. I mean, it’s not like we’re married or anything.”

Scully chuckles and pushes up onto her toes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Now that’s not going to help dissuade the rumors, Agent Scully.” He teases.

“At this point, I don’t think there’s any hope.” She rings the bell.

“Dana! Fox! Oh, it’s so good to see you both.” Maggie swings the door open and greets them with her usual warm, excited smile. She takes each of them in for a hug and kiss on the cheek.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Mom.”

“Happy Thanksgiving, Mrs Scully.”

Maggie slaps his arm playfully. “You call me Maggie, Fox, how many times do I have to tell you.”

“Alright Maggie.” Mulder smiles at his shoes. Mulder fucking loves Maggie Scully. She offers affection so freely, in a way Mulder isn’t used to experiencing, especially not in a familial manner. He wasn’t raised with this, with hugs hello and being allowed to call friends’ parents by their first names. It’s foreign to him. She’s been trying to get him to call her Maggie since she started feeding him while Scully was gone, but it had never stuck.

“Bill and Charlie are in the living room, why don’t you two go sit with them while I check on the bird?“ Maggie offers.

“Tara and Marcel couldn’t make it?”

“No, Tara decided to go to her parents last minute, and Marcel is, well, Polish, so he didn’t want to come back over with Charlie for an American holiday.” Maggie winks at her daughter. “You’re the only one who brought a partner this year, Dana.”

“Mom, that’s not—“ Scully sighs and runs a hand over her forehead in exasperation before deciding to just drop it. “I’m surprised Charlie was able to get the time off, he usually isn’t.”

“I’m not teaching this semester,” a new voice explains, Mulder turns around to face a burly looking redhead. “I’m focusing on research and writing. Makes it a bit easier to get away for American holidays.” He turns to Mulder and offers a hand, which the agent takes. “You must be the Agent Mulder I keep hearing about in Dana’s emails. Charlie Scully.”

“That would be me. It’s good to meet you.”

“Dana says you just go by Mulder?”

“With a first name like mine, you’d go by anything else.”

Charlie laughs, “So tell me, Mulder, has Dana ever told you about what happened at her senior prom?”

“No, she has not.” Mulder replies, tone keen and interested. He turns to his partner, “Scully, am I about to unlock embarrassing childhood stories?”

“Charlie, you promised you would never tell anyone!”

Charlie taps his fingers together conspiratorially, and begins regaling Mulder with the story as they enter the living room.

Upon introduction to Bill, Mulder understands why Scully had laughed so hard at a joke he once made about the two of them having an affair. Bill hides his contempt for Mulder poorly, with a pinched smile as they shake hands and the occasional glare. When Maggie calls them into the dining room to gather for the meal, Mulder sticks to his Scully’s side and Bill settles himself on the other end of the table, at the head.

“Mom, that was delicious,” Scully says as she pushes her chair back. She then turns to Mulder, “Should we get on the dishes?”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that, Dana.” Maggie protests, rising from her seat.

“You cooked us an amazing meal, Mrs. Scully, please let us clean up.” Mulder places a hand on her shoulder to encourage her to stay in her seat and converse with her sons, and he and Scully retreat to the kitchen with piles of dishes in hand.

“You wash, I dry and put away?” Scully offers, and Mulder nods.

“Thank you for inviting me,” he says after a few moments of quiet washing. “I was afraid it would be awkward. I mean, Bill doesn’t seem to like me very much, but Charlie seems nice.”

“I can’t believe he told you about Marcus.” Scully laughs, “That story is so embarrassing.”

“I’m just glad to have finally earned your embarrassing childhood stories. It’s like I’ve reached the next level of friendship.”

Scully snorts. “Right, Mulder. Step one is they bail you out of jail, step two is they shoot you, three is get married, four is buy a home together, and five is learn about their senior prom. That’s the natural order of things.”

Maggie watches from the other room as Mulder tilts his head back to let out a full belly laugh. Dana elbows him, and he deposits a smear of suds onto her nose in response. As she observes the ensuing playful water fight, Maggie can’t help but hope they soon see what she does, what she’s sure Charlie has picked up on as well, what Bill might still be unaccepting of. There’s so much affection between the two of them. Dana looks up at Fox with a look that she’s never seen on her daughter’s face before, one filled with raw affection. Maggie can tell that whatever they have, it’s coming to a head. Something is there. Everything is there, glowing between them.

Plus, Fox has a thin strip of paler skin on his fourth finger of his left hand, right where a wedding ring would lie.

next chapter ->

#LTWrites #LTW: you are in love #fics #fall into place series #the x files #todayinfic #.txt

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skelavender · 16 days

Text

“Do you want to go get dressed, and I’ll make breakfast that is a little less…” he glances at her failed meal, “Runny and charcoal?” She nods. “Thank you, Mulder.” “Of course.” He presses a kiss to her head and releases her. As she retreats to the bedroom, Mulder continues, “But I want that shirt back!” “Tough luck, sweetheart!” She shoots over her shoulder with a grin.

read chapter four of you are in love on ao3, or below the cut!

Morning, his place

Burnt toast, Sunday

You keep his shirt

He keeps his word

And for once, you let go

Of your fears and your ghosts

One step, not much

But it said enough

***

December 1996

Scully’s alarm goes off at 7:00 on a dim Sunday morning, rousing her hours earlier than she would like. She groans and wriggles out of Mulder’s arms to silence the clock before it can wake him as well.

The goddamn lab is backed up, and the today is the only day open for her to run tests on the river dirt all through Gillyberg’s body, which needed to be removed, sampled, and analyzed meticulously.

She’s really not looking forward to it. Especially not in the dreary December morning light, in the cozy bed she desperately wants to stay in, with a sleeping Mulder still trying to hold her warm body close to his.

She brushes his hair out of his face and kisses his temple before getting out of bed. She slides glasses on her face and her feet into her slippers, foregoing pants and trodding out into the kitchen for coffee wearing just one of Mulder’s old t-shirts.

Scully is not exactly what one would call a morning person. Especially not on Sundays before 9. Especially not on Sundays before 9, expecting to be on her feet for at least five hours, and when every goddamn kitchen appliance seems to be malfunctioning.

Her coffee is weak. Her eggs are runny. The final straw is when her toast burns to a crisp. She pushes the plate across the counter and drops her head onto it in defeat.

“Scully?” A sleepy voice calls from the hallway. She lifts her head to look and oh, oh suddenly everything makes sense.

A Mulder-shaped blob shuffles toward her. She thinks he might be rubbing an eye, which would be absolutely adorable and Mulder-like, but she can barely make out the shape of him through glasses that, apparently, are not her own.

“I can’t see anything.” She says dumbly as Mulder approaches. He lifts his hand to remove the glasses, and slips the correct pair onto her face. He takes her into his arms, and she goes willingly, wrapping her arms around his back. She’s slotting right into a place that has always been hers.

“I put mine on your nightstand by mistake last night.” He explains, “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“I don’t want to work today.” She mumbles into his chest.

“I’d rather have you home, too. Thanks for doing our dirty work, Scully. Literally.” Scully just grunts in response. Mulder puts his hands on the sides of her neck, thumbs on her cheeks, and looks down at her. ��Do you want to go get dressed, and I’ll make breakfast that is a little less…” he glances at her failed meal, “Runny and charcoal?”

She nods. “Thank you, Mulder.”

“Of course.” He presses a kiss to her head and releases her. As she retreats to the bedroom, Mulder continues, “But I want that shirt back!”

“Tough luck, sweetheart!” She shoots over her shoulder with a grin.

***

Scully ends up stuck at work all goddamn day. After finishing the autopsy, she calls the house to tell Mulder that she’s going to the lab to try to get something on the dirt samples she extracted from Gillyberg’s digestive system. Her insides had been absolutely packed, more so than would normally occur with a body drifting downriver, so there had been a number of samples. When she calls their landline, she is greeted with her own bored voice saying “You’ve reached Fox Mulder and Dana Scully, please leave a message after the tone.” She catches him on his cell, and tells him that she’ll be home for dinner.

When she does make it home, it's to the sound of a rock song that she knows Mulder has played before but can’t quite place, and a pleasant smell coming from the kitchen.

“Finally, I was starting to think that you’d gotten locked in one of those corpse drawers or something.” Mulder calls from the kitchen as Scully slides her badge and gun into the drawer in the front hallway and places her jacket on the coat tree by the door.

“Sorry, honey, I was waiting on the test results on the dirt from the potential dump site.”

“Find anything?”

“Yes, we ran tests on just about everything, pH, phosphate, nitrate and nitrite, organic matter, you name it… they all match, Mulder. The dirt from the woman’s home matches the dirt found in her digestive tract.”

“So they killed her in her home, and threw her in the river in a panic? Do you think it was premeditated?”

Scully puts her coat on the hook and her gun, keys, and wallet on the entryway table. “I don’t think so. I think it was definitely intentional, but not necessarily well thought out ahead of time. The sheer amount of dirt in her body wouldn't happen naturally, and there are signs that she was decomposing in open air prior to being tossed in the river. I don’t think it was done in a panic, Mulder, I think the decision to dispose of the body that way was made days after killing her. It was planned, just very poorly.”

“Where does that leave us?”

“I don’t know. Nowhere, for tonight. Confirming the dump site doesn’t help us solidify a motive, or tie her to the medical group we were tipped off to.”

Mulder taps the wooden spoon on the pan thoughtfully. “Do you think the guys could get into their records and try to find something?”

“Let's leave it for tonight. I’m hungry.” Scully leans on her elbows over the kitchen peninsula. “What’s for dinner? Can I help with anything?”

“I found your stir fry recipe. You want to chop the veggies?” He nods towards a cutting board next to the stove, where he stands stirring enough to prevent the contents from sticking.

Scully washes her hands and complies, chopping routinely. When the CD finishes, Mulder nods towards the stereo, “Do you want to choose the next one?”

Scully selects a CD from the shelf below the player and slips it into the disk bay before returning Mulder’s CD – apparently, Green Day’s Dookie – to its case.

I wanna hold the hand inside you

Scully reenters the kitchen and Mulder beams at her, “Mazzy Star, good choice.”

“Thank you,” she replies before returning to her cutting board.

I wanna take the breath that’s true

Mulder’s eyes don’t leave Scully, he just takes her in. The only difference between now and when she left this morning is the lack of suit jacket and heels, and the soft, unguarded expression on her face.

I look to you and I see nothing

The slope of her nose. The angle of her chin. The slightest smear of mascara under her eye. He does his best to stamp the image into his mind, so he never forgets what she looks like when she’s cooking with him in their home, dancing around each other’s space in comfortable, practiced motions. He loves her, loves the domestic routine they’ve built so much it hurts.

I look to you to see the truth

Scully finally catches him staring, and looks back up at him. “What?”

You live your life, you go in shadows

He clicks the stove off and steps toward her, and she puts the knife down in turn. “Mulder?”

You'll come apart and you'll go blind

“Come here.”

Some kind of night into your darkness

Mulder grabs Scully’s hand and draws her in. He wraps his free arm around her back and her own presses into his bicep.

Colored your eyes with what's not there

He starts to sway, and leads her around the kitchen. Not quite the ballroom dancing from his youth, but it’s close.

Fade into you

Strange you never knew

Fade into you

I think it's strange you never knew

The way Scully is smiling up at him makes something burst and shine inside him. He’s reevaluating his concept of happiness, unsure if it's ever burnt this bright in his chest before. He doesn’t think he could keep off his face if he tried.

She’s beautiful.

A stranger's light comes on slowly

Mulder spins Scully out, and pulls her back in, even closer than she was before. She’s pressed against him.

A stranger's heart without a home

She rests her head on Mulder’s chest and listens to his heartbeat. He wonders if she can tell how fast it’s racing, if she knows the effect her proximity has on him.

You put your hands into your head

Something seems to have shifted in her. Like a barrier has been moved, and he can see a whole new part of herself that she’s kept walled off from him for the past three years of their partnership, for the past year of their marriage. This isn’t the usual, guarded Scully; this is Dana.

And then its smiles cover your heart

Scully looks back up at him. He sees something in her eyes, in her slightly open lips, and reads it as permission. As desire.

Fade into you

Strange you never knew

Mulder lowers his head minutely, bringing his and Scully’s faces closer. Her eyes lower to his lips, and her hand snakes up to rest on the back of his neck, nails running along his hairline and making him shiver.

Fade into you

I think it's strange you never knew

Scully’s hand applies slow, firm pressure, bringing him down, closer, and god, he’s nearer to her than he’s ever been. Closer to everything he’s ever wanted.

Fade into you

Strange you never knew

The moment shatters. It shatters along with the gorgeous, bee shaped stained glass window. It shatters along with the cupboard door, right near where Mulder’s head would be if he wasn’t leaning down to kiss Scully. It shatters with Mulder’s hope.

Fade into you

Scully reacts before he does. She drops to the ground, bringing him with her, and he lands right on top of her with a grunt.

“Where’s your weapon?” She asks, clearly shifting into fight mode a lot faster than he is.

I think it's strange you never knew

“The bedroom.”

“Dammit, mine’s in the front hallway.”

I think it's strange you never knew

“I’m going to run for yours, it’s closer and there are more walls between it and the shooter. Stay. Here.” She orders.

“Scully, don’t–”

Mulder tries to grab her, tries to keep her on the floor where they’re mostly covered and mostly safe, but she’s off and running in an awkward crouch before he can get the sentence out. Another shot rings from the window, once again just missing her and landing in the couch. She grabs the gun off the entryway table and scuttles through the living area to couch behind the couch and match the shooter’s angle. She fires three rounds and there’s a thud from the backyard, and the sound of bullets hitting the brick of the back wall cease.

“Scully?” Mudler asks, still crouched behind the counter.

“Mulder, are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” He peeks over the countertop at his partner, her gun and eyes still trained in the direction from which the shots were fired. She risks a glance at him to confirm he’s intact.

“I think I got him. Or at least scared him off. Grab my gun and call 911, I’m going to go check.”

“Wait a second.” He rounds the peninsula separating the kitchen from the living room and takes her in his arms. She relaxes at the contact, dropping her rigid shooting stance to embrace him back. “You’re okay?”

“I’m okay.” Her voice is muffled in his shirt. She breaks away and focuses back on her mission. “Go.”

For once, Mulder does as he’s told.

***

Scully did, in fact, hit their assailant. He and his rifle had been perched in the tree in the backyard, and had fallen out when Scully had hit him in the shoulder. He was unconscious when Scully found him, and was cuffed to a gurney as soon as he woke.

The gunman, being the world’s worst assassin, conveniently confesses immediately to being hired by someone within the Excellium Medical Group, the very organization they were investigating in connection to Gillyberg. The one that, after poking through the woman’s computer in a less than legal manner, it turns out was involved in some very illegal organ trade. Gillyberg was preparing to report them, so they had killed her. Sloppily.

When Mulder and Scully had started poking around, they put out a hit. Luckily for Excellium, they were almost always together, so there was no need to coordinate assassinating them both. Unluckily for Excellium, they were almost always together, and therefore virtually impossible to kill.

When Mulder finally locks the door behind the last CSI tech, he leans back against it with a thud and drops his head into his hands.

Fuck. Fuck. He’d almost kissed her. And that fact had saved his life, if the trajectory from the stained glass window to the bullet hole in his cabinet door is any indication. If he hadn’t been leaning down, the bullet would have lodged itself right into his head instead of the cabinet.

Well, at least being head over fucking heels with his wife who isn’t really his wife had done something good for him. She had saved his life, again.

“Mulder?” Scully calls from the other room. She pokes her head into the entryway. He lifts his head to look towards her. She’s wrapped in a blanket that is usually kept on the couch, the one from his apartment. It doesn’t match the couch, but they keep it there anyway.

“You alright?”

She nods, and holds her arms out to him. He bundles her up into his own and tucks her head into his chest, nestled under his chin. Right where she fits, right where she belongs.

“Let’s go to bed.” She mumbles into his shirt, grabbing at the fabric at the back. He pulls away and kisses her forehead.

“Yeah. Let’s go to sleep, Scully.”

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