Writing Prompt 20

writing prompt 20

Also for @randomfoggytiger who requested this prompt: kiss on a scar, and msr

Two's Company

post cancer arc Scully invites Mulder around for dinner; about 850 words; rated t; tagging @today-in-fic

read on ao3

She invited him over for Sunday lunch with her mother, after church.

Slowly, Scully has taken on the advice of father McCue, reaching out with wary hands to those that are important to her. It has been exhausting to let in those that she had shut out. Sometimes she forgets that she is in remission; the instinct to protect those around her strong. In truth, she has always found strength in solitude, drawn to the simplicity of the silence, but without Mulder and her mother she would not be here and she owes it to them to at least try. So Sunday lunch with them both is about all she can muster before her efforts feel distorted and contrived.

That was almost six hours ago and he's still here loitering in her kitchen, while she washes out the two wine glasses they have been drinking from this evening. Her mother excused herself shortly after the dinner, leaving Mulder clinging to her company. He hasn't out-stayed his welcome though: she's enjoyed the time, smiled and laughed and fell into comfortable conversation, sat side by side on her couch, forgetting the elephant in the room. Yet there's a growing nervousness in her stomach–she stops to stare at the palette of deep red at the bottom of the second glass–perhaps precisely because she doesn't want him to go.

When did she become afraid of being alone?

She licks her lip, aware of him watching her from the doorway. The sponge squeaks with bubbles as she wipes out the stain. Casting a glance over her shoulder, she finds him, the sight of him casually leaning against the wall, hands thrust in his jean pockets, enough to pull half a smile from her. His grin back is goofy and big and something in her chest swells. He saunters over, grabbing the tea towel from the cupboard handle as he passes it. She can't take her eyes off him as the ceiling light casts his face with light and shadow, defining those features she knows so well. His nose and lips are prominent in the warm light and his eyes sparkle something mischievous.

He puts a hand on her back and gives her the tea towel to dry her hands. The warmth of his touch serenades her body.

"You look stunning,” he whispers in awe.

She dips her head but can't help her smile, not ready to accept his affection as eagerly as he gives it. Sensing this, he leans closer, driving his point home: “I'm serious, you look amazing: better than ever.”

She manages a humble thank you as his hand travels up and down her back in slow comforting strokes. His warmth spreads throughout her, both slow and heavy like lava in her veins and quick and sharp like lightning through her nerves. Scully cools herself. Focusing on putting the last glass away, she hides the self-regulation of her breath.

“Thank you,” he says simply.

She turns to him. “What for?”

“For dinner, for this–” he gestures between them with a wave of his hand– “for everything.” Her cheeks, red hot, sting with the sudden touch of Mulder's lips. “I… You are so brave and strong everyday, I…”

It's a sentence he can't finish even now. Instead, he reaches for her hand, tethering them together. His thumb caresses her knuckles showing what with words he cannot express.

Her eyes dart back and forth between his, desperately trying to read him. “Mulder…”

He chuckles. “Scully."

“What–”

He brushes her hair behind her ear and gazes at her, as if he could join with her soul if he only looked hard enough. He wraps his arms around her, pulling her in for an all-consuming bear-hug. She allows herself to fall into the familiarity of his shape, his smell, seeking her own private comfort as he presses his nose to the side of her neck. “I missed you so bad and you weren't even gone. There were times I thought I'd never see you again.”

And there it is; the elephant that can no longer be ignored. She holds her breath and tries not to blink, still as a statue, the threat of gasps and tears locked inside of her. His fingers tentatively part the hair at her neck, sensitive fingertips tracing her fresh scar there.

Scully's stomach drops as he kisses just to the side of his fingers, as if saying a prayer to the metal buried beneath her skin.

“I’m sorry I gave you another scar. It shouldn't be like this,” he mumbles, voice thick with guilt.

She pulls away to see his face. “Mulder… you didn't do this: you saved me. It was your strength that saved me."

He laughs nervously, his eyes beginning to get that sheen she's seen before beside her hospital bed. “I guess I’m just grateful now for your company. Thanks for having me around, Scully.”

“I…” She tries for the sentiment he failed earlier but the words lodge in her throat, both insufficient and too much. She opts instead to show her reciprocation, stretching up on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Thank you for being around.”