Title: Tuesday Author: DM E-mail: unruhe1121@hotmail.com Feedback: is treasured and always replied to. Rating: PG Category: V, R Key words: Mulder/Scully Romance Spoilers: Monday, Arcadia Disclaimer: Not mine; they belong to 1013 Productions, FOX, and most importantly, David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson. Summary: “Marry me, Scully,” he asks again, “make me the happiest undercover agent in Washington.” Notes: This is the seventh vignette in a series that follows Mulder and Scully through the episodes in Season 6, beginning with Rain King. They’re more or less a series of stand-alone stories, the MSR having already been established in the first two installments. If you would like to read the series, it goes as follows: ‘Kroner’ ‘Georgetown’ ‘One Simple Kiss’ ‘We All Make Mistakes’ ‘Personal’ ‘Peanuts’ ‘Tuesday’ They may all be found here: http://www.geocities.com/dmldr42/fanfiction.html All of my other stories may be found at my website: http://www.geocities.com/dmldr42 I dedicate this one to Carol A. Thank you so much for everything! Love you! Tuesday By DM “Agents, Assistant Director Skinner will see you now,” Kimberly smiles at my partner and I can’t help but notice how her eyes seem to greatly appreciate what she sees. Is this a new development, or am I simply more aware of these things now that Mulder and I have. . . made things personal? Mulder doesn’t seem to notice the attention and I’m almost embarrassed to admit how much that pleases me. We take our usual seats, and Skinner asks for our report on the robbery yesterday. I’m not sure when Mulder found the time to write it, but I left the responsibility to him, seeing as my understanding of the incident still remains unclear. Even after Mulder’s explanation in our office just a few minutes earlier. The look on Skinner’s face tells me he’s not pleased with Mulder’s conclusion. “I’ve seen the movie, Agent Mulder. I didn’t much care for it then, and I certainly don’t care for it now.” Mulder doesn’t reply and glances in my direction for what I interpret is a gentle plea for the slightest bit of validation. I know I can’t scientifically explain what allowed my partner to know that Bernard Oates was in possession of a bomb yesterday, but I can offer my support. “It defies explanation, Sir, but I think we’ve both seen enough over the years to know that Agent Mulder’s theories are correct more often than not.” A quick glance to the right allows me to see a smile flirt with the corner of Mulder’s mouth. I know he wasn’t expecting me to say what I did. Skinner obviously isn’t convinced, though, because he barely hesitates before continuing, “so, you’re buying this too, Agent Scully? I have to say, I’m disappointed in your lack of judgment.” I’m agitated at this, and I spare no sarcasm in my retort. “What other explanation might you suggest, then, Sir?” Mulder lets out a deep breath and I have to agree. I don’t quite care for where this meeting is headed. Skinner opens his mouth but thinks better just as he’s about to speak. He stands up instead and gathers some papers from his desk. “I’m sorry, Agents. I’ve been here for the past 24 hours and I’m ready to go home.” He offers a weak smile, then grabs his jacket from the back of his desk chair. “Unfortunately, I have meetings scheduled from now until three, first of which is with the Section Chief regarding this fascinating tale,” he gestures towards Mulder’s report, “that vaguely resembles a Bill Murray flick.” He puts on his jacket and turns his attention back to my partner and me. “ What matters is that Oates’ accomplice-- victim, whatever you prefer, was the only casualty in what had the potential to be a fatal disaster.” I’m a bit put off by the sudden turn in Skinner’s attitude as we rise to leave. I assume we’ve been dismissed, as he’s almost out the door himself. “Oh,” he turns to us, halting our exit. “You’ve been assigned a new case, an X-File.” He walks back to his desk and hands Mulder a file. And that’s it. Meeting over. One spur of the moment X-File behind us, and one awaiting our attention elsewhere. Only problem is, Mulder won’t tell me where our first catch back on the X- Files is taking us. The tilt of his lips as he quickly peruses the file tells me I’m not going to be pleased with the details of our new assignment. He tells me he has to make a quick stop on the thirteenth floor before joining me down in the basement. I eye him warily, but let him get away with it because I’ve learned it’s useless to get in the way when he has something up his sleeve. He’s gone 45 minutes and I’m starting to grow impatient when he suddenly walks through the door with an almost wicked grin pasted across his face. He shuts and locks the door behind him, and with a devilish sparkle in his eyes, closes the distance between us. Before I’m able to move, I’m in his arms and his breath is warm on my lips. My body is screaming to give into the intense desire I have to finish what he’s started, but the sensible portion of my brain is fighting desperately to resist him. “Do you remember what we talked about, Scully?” His lips brush against mine as he moves them to speak. “Keeping our personal life out of our work,” he reminds me. “Yes,” I breathe, losing what little control I have left. “We decided it wasn’t professional.” “Unless,” he prompts. “I don’t recall there being any exceptions.” Against all better judgment, my eyes slip closed as I submit to my partner. Our lips meet and the room feels as though it’s whirling around us. After several long, delicious moments, he leans back enough to speak, “marry me?” My breath literally catches in my throat and I pull away quickly, making myself dizzy in the process. He can’t possibly be serious. “Mulder. . . I-“ He begins to laugh and I can’t say I appreciate his reaction in light of what’s just transpired. “I should be offended, but luckily for you, I was aiming for such a response.” I feel confused, embarrassed, disheveled. And he’s sitting there laughing at me. Sometimes I really don’t understand what makes the man say and do the things that he does. He reaches into his pocket and produces a small box. “We said that the only acceptable situation to display our budding romance would be undercover.” He opens the box and a diamond ring glitters from within its velvet cocoon. “Marry me, Scully,” he asks again, “make me the happiest undercover agent in Washington.” So help me, but the man knows how to smooth over just about any situation. I’m not quite as upset as I was a moment ago, but that doesn’t mean I’ll be letting him off the hook quite so easily. “If I recall, Mulder, that wasn’t quite how the agreement went.” “Yes it was,” he sounds so sure of himself that I’m going to enjoy this all the more. “No, Mulder, I’m quite sure we agreed that our personal relationship would be set aside during any and all investigations assigned by the Bureau.” “But the assignment-“ “The assignment might call for some role playing, yes. But, surely you’ll agree that we need to keep a healthy distance between business and pleasure. . . regardless of the circumstances.” “You can’t be serious, Scully.” “Oh, I’m very serious, Mulder.” I smile up at him and can’t help but be pleased with how dramatically I’ve turned this entire situation around. Even though he must sense that I plan on softening my resolve. . . with the right kind of persuasion, that is. “Let’s get going, partner.” “Yeah,” he snaps the ring box closed, that wicked grin painting his face again. “Let’s get going. . . Mrs. Petrie.” “Mrs. Petrie?” Uh, oh. “Mulder? What are you leaving out?” His smile widens, “I’ll tell you on the plane. . . Laura.” He starts towards the door. “Mulder. . .” I warn, my new-found, victorious glee disappearing fast. I walk quickly to catch up with him. “The name’s Rob.” We reach the elevator and, as I stand there, I feel a slow burn rising. I need to get this out. Now. I place my hands on my hips, knowing the impact my body language tends to have on Mulder. I want him to know just how displeased I am with his childish sense of humor. “Rob and Laura Petrie? You’re a sick man, Mulder.” “That’s what they tell me.“ The door slides open and he goes inside, waiting for me to join him. “Coming, honey?” he adds in a saccharine monotone. I remain where I stand, absorbing his attitude. “The X-Files are ours again, Mulder. I thought you’d be taking this a little bit more seriously.” “I am,” he smiles and I stand there waiting for him to be honest. Finally, he sighs, “A routine missing person’s case in suburbia isn’t exactly an X-File, Scully. It’s a job for the local PD.” “Skinner doesn’t seem to think so.” “Yeah, well, he must be right then.” His gaze falls away from my eyes. “Mulder-“ “Look, Scully, we both know we’re being monitored. It’s a joke, why not play along?” “Because that’s not who you are.” “No, it’s who I have to be.” He pushes a button and the doors begin to shut. “I’ll pick you up in the morning.” “No, Mulder,” I say to the closed door. “It’s who you choose to be.” I stand there for another moment before pushing the elevator button, experiencing that old, familiar flood of annoyance at having just been ditched. “Welcome back to the X-Files, Agent Scully,” I mutter to myself as I step inside. End.