#peach just wondering where she really belongs in the grand scheme of things

[dragon-cookies]

I'm highkey bummed that the Mario movie went through the trouble to confirm that Peach is not from the Mushroom Kingdom, and then proceeded to do absolutely nothing with it

I also would've loved to see Peach have an actual reaction to seeing an entire city of humans too. Like she was clearly really excited seeing Mario for the first time, and yet we never get her response to an entire world of humans just like her

[baronessblixen]

I don't know of a more eloquent way of saying this, but when you write fluff it makes my soul happy. Could I please request some fluff from early seasons that includes scully not being able to resist cuddling a warm and comforting freshly showered tshirt clad mulder, and then oh no, they have to share a bed!

Anon, my sweet, sweet anon. I’ve wanted to write this as soon as I got this ask. Then my muse took off with all the words and I was left alone. This is not exactly what you asked for, I fear. I hope you like it anyway. Sorry it took so long. It’s a post-ep kind of thing for “Our Town”.

Tagging @today-in-fic

“Doyou want me to start on the report?” They’re sitting in a diner, somewhereout of Dudley, Arkansas, just the two of them and a waitress that pays them noattention. Mulder fiddles with a napkin, tears off little pieces and makes themrain on his plate like confetti. If he really wants to start writing thatreport, he figures, he’ll have to do it on said napkin. All their belongingsare in the trunk of the car, waiting. Haphazardly thrown into their bags whenthe hotel not so nicely informed them that they’d have to leave. Right now. Scully,mute, sits across from him like a still painting, unmoving yet luminous. Astrand of hair clings to the cut on her forehead and she either doesn’t noticeor doesn’t care. Mulder leans forward to gently brush it away. Her eyes land onhis, alert now.

“Hey.”He smiles softly, but Scully’s face remains stoic. She was fine earlier. Shesaid so, anyway. It dawns on him that maybe, just maybe, she might throw the wordat him every now and then without meaning it. “You didn’t hear me, didyou?”

“Didn’thear you?”

“Iasked you if you wanted me to start on the report,” Mulder repeats andleans back against the chair. It squeaks softly.

“Inhere? Why now?”

“Itwas just…” He wants to do something. Needs to. This case, this throwawaycase that in the grand scheme of life and their work means nothing, almost costhim Scully. Again. How often will they end up here? Today it’s a sleazy diner,tomorrow it might be a dark, endless road. Today it’s a small cut, a bruise.Tomorrow, though… what is going to happen tomorrow? He told Scully she shouldtake off more time. Ever since she’s come back, to life, to him and their work,danger has clung to her like a bad smell.

“Mulder,why are we here?” Her question gives him pause. He observes her face; hermouth half-open in a question she doesn’t know how to ask yet. Her eyes areexhausted, seem empty. Why are they here, indeed. Because of me, he thinks. Asalways. One day he’ll lose her, he thinks as she blinks at him. One day he’llbe too late. He’ll sit in a diner like this, his guilt gnawing and tearing athim, without her. That’s why they’re here; as fine as she seemed early, Mulder isanything but. His hands shaking after he got her back into the car, barely ableto hold the steering wheel, he stopped at the first sign of civilization. That’snot something he cares to admit to her right now, though.

“Weneed to find a place to stay for the night. There aren’t any flights out thislate.”

“Pleasetell me we’re not staying at this diner for the night.” Her face, henotices now, seems a little green. She needs sleep and rest. He suggested adoctor earlier, but she only threw him ‘a don’t be ridiculous, Mulder’ look andhe hasn’t mentioned it again. The least he can do is find her a somewhatcomfortable room.

“No.But maybe they can tell us where to find a hotel.”

Thehotel, it turns out, is just down the road. What the waitress didn’t tell him, however,is that they’re solidly booked. Except for one room. With a double bed. Glancingat Scully, who is out of it again, he nods and carries both their overnightbags inside the small, smelly room.

“Homesweet home,” Mulder mumbles as both bags slip from his hand and land onthe carpet with a gentle thud. “You can have the bathroom first,Scully.” With any luck she’ll be asleep once he’s showered. Her answer isa soft hmm and she rummages through her bag before she disappears into thebathroom. Only after the door closes behind her does Mulder take a deep breath.He stares at the bed in front of him. There’s no way they can both sleep inthere. Ignoring that particular conundrum for the moment he zips open his ownbag to search for something he can wear tonight. A t-shirt and boxers will haveto do. A look at the questionable carpet and he sighs. He’s probably touched,and slept on, worse things, he decides.

Scullyreturns ten minutes later smelling like peaches. She throws him a small smileas she walks over to the bed. Her face freshly scrubbed, the cut on herforehead looks more prominent. One of his hands lands on her arm, the othergently touches the cut. She doesn’t even flinch.

“Doesn’thurt, Mulder.” Her voice is soft as if to reassure him that she’s finewithout saying the words this time. He nods, unable to form any words. Couldhave lost you, he thinks. Could have lost you again. Before he can make a fool ofhimself, he grabs his clothes and disappears into the bathroom. He takes histime under the shower, tries to wash off the picture of Scully kneeling on theground unable to move, trapped like a wild animal. But they refuse to leave andMulder gives up when the water loses its steam and turns cold.

Ittakes him a moment to realize that something is wrong when he steps back intothe room. Another moment before he notices Scully huddled into the corner bythe window. In two quick strides, he is by her side and helps her up. She’sshivering, staring up at him with horror in her eyes.

“Hey,it’s all right. It’s me. I’m here. You’re safe.” Scully huffs; a defiantsound that almost makes him smile. The look in her eyes changes, settles.

“Mulder?”Her voice is as unsteady as he feels. He nods, encouraging her to go on.  "I, um, can you…" She turns,stares at the bed. She’s trying to ask him to sleep somewhere else. Although hehadn’t planned on sharing the bed with her anyway, the unasked question stingsjust a bit.

“Ofcourse, Scully. I’ll sleep on the floor, I’ll-”

“No,that’s not… not at all what I meant.” She bites her lip as her eyes fillwith tears. He’s never wanted to be able to read minds as badly as now. Talk tome, Scully, he pleads with his eyes because his voice isn’t cooperating.

“Canyou- could you hold me? Please? Just hold me?” Mulder counts to threebefore he puts his arms around her and holds her as tightly as he can. If hecould, he’d never let go. He’d put her in his pocket and make sure she’d alwaysbe safe. She is tiny, so tiny, in his arms and yet not tiny enough to carry aroundin his pocket. She giggles against his chest as her hand strokes his back; whois comforting who, he wonders briefly.

“I’mglad I don’t fit into your pocket, Mulder,” she whispers against hischest. Oh, he said that out loud. He leaves a kiss on the crown of her head,reveling in her unique scent. “Let’s go to bed, okay? I’d like to forgetthis day ever happened.” Scully takes his hand and leads him over to thebed like a new, blushing bride. They don’t speak, don’t rationalize, as theyboth lay down on their respective sides. Mulder turns off the light and as hetries to get comfortable without jostling Scully around, without touching hertoo much, she scoots closer. Her name catches in his throat as she puts herhead on his chest.

“Relax,Mulder,” she whispers with a hand over his thundering heart, strokingsoftly. “Please just hold me.” Her words feel like a kiss and disappearinto the cotton of his t-shirt. Carefully, as if she were made of glass, he slideshis arm around her, holds her to him. Just to try it, he closes his eyes. Heexpects pictures to explode behind his eyes. Scully on the ground, Scullyscreaming for help. Being too late. Always being too late. But they don’t come.There’s just the faint smell of peaches, the warm weight of Scully against himand the reassuring sound of her even breathing. Tonight he’ll sleep knowing Scullyis safe. Whatever happens tomorrow, today he couldn’t ask for more.