I Can’t Even Make Fun Of Mulder And Scully For Acting Like They’ll Drop Dead If They Ever Stand More

i can’t even make fun of mulder and scully for acting like they’ll drop dead if they ever stand more than six feet away from each other because the fact that that can and does happen is, like, demonstrably true

Home is Whenever I'm With You

a short fluffy fic by yours truly.

“You okay back there?” Scully shouted to Mulder from her place on the couch. He’d been tinkering around his kitchen for the better part of an hour.

Mulder answered the door when she arrived earlier and immediately directed her towards the living room. He told her to sit and handed her a beer. “Just relax, I got this.” She nodded silently, cracked the top off of her drink and rested her stocking feet on the edge of the coffee table.

He had caught her before they left work that day and asked her to come over for dinner. When she asked if she could bring anything he shook his head and told it was a surprise.

Now she was one episode of “Murder She Wrote” down and was itching to do something. She didn’t get a response to her question so she padded her way across the apartment and peeked her head into the kitchen. “You sure I can’t help you with anything?”

“I’m about done. Just a few more minutes.” Mulder smiled as he pulled a mitt over his hand and opened the oven door. Inside on the rack sat a large casserole dish. Whatever was cooking was covered in cheese.

“Smells good.” Scully scanned the scene. It looked like a tornado blew through. The sink was piled with the few pots and pans he kept on hand. On the counter sat a cutting board and a knife with remnants of vegetables left behind. Mulder closed the oven door and turned to her. He placed his hand on her back and gently ushered her back out into the living room.

“It’ll be worth the wait, I promise.”

Scully sat back down on the couch. A minute later Mulder emerged from the kitchen holding two candlesticks and some cloth napkins. He arranged them on the coffee table with the vase of flowers Scully noticed when she walked in earlier. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small matchbook. He struck the matches and lit each candle. Scully smiled happily to herself. This was sweet. She appreciated the effort he was going through.

Mulder went back into the kitchen and dished up two plates. He brought them out to their makeshift dinner table and sat them beside each other.

“What do we got here?” Scully asked.

“Cheesy chicken and broccoli casserole with a caesar salad and a toasted roll.” Mulder replied as he tucked his napkin into the collar of his shirt.

“Sounds lovely.” Scully dug a forkful of casserole and took a bite. “And it tastes even better than it looks. Good job, Mulder.”

“Thank you. My mom used to make this all the time for us as kids. Samantha and I were never good at eating our vegetables, so she’d hide them in this dish and we’d gobble it right up.”

“Sneaky, I like it.” Scully smiled.

They both sat and enjoyed their meal in silence for a few minutes. I could get used to this. Scully thought to herself. She loved the domesticity of it all. It was nice to slow down every once in a while and enjoy each other’s company.

They finished their dinner and Mulder moved to pick up their plates. Scully caught him by the arm. “No, let me. You cooked this wonderful meal, the least I can do is help with the dishes.”

“You wash, I’ll dry.” Mulder winked.

“Deal.”

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outerspacecastawaypart2

1 month ago