Thats What The 118 Is. The Family We Choose.

That’s what the 118 is. The family we choose.

a 911 gift for @chimneymisteraprilhan

-happy holidays 🤍

saw this prompt and your writing was the first thing that came to mind: stuck in a traffic jam and accidentally made eye contact from different cars au

i'd die if you did this

I hope the person who requested this is still around to see it!! Thank you so much for sending me this prompt <3 (I may have misunderstood it, but I hope it still fits)

msr | 1.2k | ao3

Scully hated being late.

Her father had a rule he'd instilled in her from a young age. Early is on time, on time is late, and late is never acceptable. While Melissa and Charlie scoffed at the rule, she and Bill carved it into their bones. The moment the clock turned and shifted her from being early to on time, she felt her skin start to crawl.

There was construction near the University Hospital that had been a pain in her ass, so she decided to take the interstate, along with all of D.C. apparently. She was barely out of Georgetown before getting stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic on the Roosevelt Bridge. In ten minutes she'd be late and she had a twenty-minute commute.

"Damn it," she murmured harshly as she ripped the skin by her nail. She brought her thumb up to her mouth as she tried to soothe the sting her anxious habit caused. Between this and running out of hot water during her shower, she was prepared for this to be a shit day. Mulder'd already called a few minutes ago, but she didn't want to answer while she was so stressed and accidentally take it out on him. Instead, she tried to take a deep breath as she grabbed the coffee she'd brought from home.

While she was taking a drink, the car in front of her started moving, so she put her break on the accelerator slightly to move forward. Her phone started ringing again, pulling her attention to the passenger seat. Even from here, she could see Mulder's name on the tiny green screen. He was undoubtedly calling to ask where she was, but before she could think of answering, she had to slam on her breaks to avoid hitting the now stopped car in front of her. The momentum caused her coffee to spill on her blouse, down her chest.

"Goddamn it!" she yelled, hitting her steering wheel in frustration. Putting the coffee back in the cupholder, she pulled the blouse away from her chest to alleviate the burn. Scully unbuckled her seatbelt and turned around to see if her spare bag was in the back seat. For once today, luck was on her side, and she hadn't taken it out since coming back from their last case. She pulled it up with her and set it on the passenger's seat.

Scully usually wasn't the type to give a free show to the entire freeway, but she was at her wit's end. All but ripping the buttons off her blouse, she shed the soiled shirt before balling it up and throwing it in the back seat. It would have been more satisfying if it didn't make a wet 'plop' upon hitting the back seat.

A car honked and she rolled her eyes before inching forward the short space available. Irritated, she turned up the radio so Alanis Morissette's cathartic anger was making her dashboard vibrate. Hooking her fingers under her wet tanktop, she pulled it over her head, pausing as the strap tangled her hair. She whined in pain and contorted her body to try and get unstuck. The chain of her necklace seemed to be the culprit, so she pushed her chest out and reached near the nape of her neck to undo the rolled-up mess of her strap and chain.

Finally, she got the tank top off and threw it in the back with more force than necessary. She let out a frustrated breath and looked down, relieved to see her bra was still dry. Great, practically eight in the morning and I'm half-naked on the interstate.

Adjusting the underwire, inadvertently shaking her breasts a little, she figured at least it was one of her cute bras. There wasn't much to choose from in her spare back, but she had a ribbed white t-shirt that would pass for professional, especially since it was just going to be a paperwork day. She slipped the thin material over her head and tried to check if her black bra was visible through the fabric.

Unfortunately, the outline of her bra was pretty evident, but aside from walking in and out of the building, she was just going to be around Mulder in the basement. He might try to catch a few glimpses, but he was a gentleman and wouldn't make her uncomfortable. Looks like a bad day for her was going to be a good day for him.

With a sigh, she turned to buckle herself back in and noted the car next to hers was the same type of Ford as Mulder's. Looking up, she realized it was Mulder's car, the man himself sitting inside and gawking at her.

Oh my god. The icing on the cake to top it all off, she'd given Mulder a morning striptease.

Scully's face burned in embarrassment. Mulder closed his slackened jaw and swallowed thickly, offering her a smile and a wave. She didn't return the wave, instead, she grabbed her phone and hit redial.

"Morning, Scully." It was odd watching the cell phone tower's delay as his mouth moved and then hit her ear a few seconds later.

"Good morning, Mulder," she replied tersely. "How long have you been there?"

"Um, a while," he answered. She could see his face flush through the windows separating them. "Sorry about your coffee."

That told her all she needed to know regarding how long he'd been there. He saw it all. "Hey," he prompted off her silence. "I'm already running late. Let me get you another one."

"You don't have to do that, Mulder," she sighed. He probably caught an eyeful and was trying to compensate for it.

"I want to," he replied. His voice was so tender that it made her turn to look at him. He was giving her a sweet smile, and for the first time today, she started to feel better. "Besides, you look like you're having a shit day. Let me do something nice."

"Are you just trying to get out of paperwork?" she teased.

"A man never confesses his secrets."

She rolled her eyes and chuffed a laugh, but agreed nonetheless. They stayed on the phone for a little while longer until the roads cleared and they parted ways. She arrived twenty minutes late, and Mulder came ten minutes after her with Starbucks in hand. The little fiasco on the road went unmentioned, the only allusions that it even happened were the small glimpses she caught.

It wasn't until she got home that she realized Mulder had left her voicemails that morning.

Hey, Scully. I was just calling to let you know I'm going to be a little late to work, but I can see your car a little bit ahead of me. Talk about, spooky. Call me back and we can play I Spy.

Scully, I caught up to you. I just saw you almost slam into that guy. Sorry if I distracted you by calling. I'm trying to get your attention, but you're not looking at me. You're… you… uh… I um. Gotta go.

I would like to formally apologize to the person who asked when I would post chapter 2 of my recent 9-1-1 fic, and me saying I would get it up within the next two days, because immediately after I came down with a head cold and was unable to. God really told me no, you cannot post it earlier, you can in fact post it way later than you planned to.

Oof.