Chapter Text
He should go out and meet somebody. Get to know them, fall in love with them, build a relationship with them. Yet, relationships took time, he had been down this road multiple times and each one had ended just as badly as badly as the other, this recent relationship taking it to the next level.
He was divorced from somebody he once worshipped and the custody of their child on the line.
He wasn’t going to make a habit out of this. His hand and porn usually did the job but it didn’t always fill the void, fill that sense of loneliness that has been there since he was twelve. Sometimes he just wanted physical human companionship, sometimes he just wanted that too much.
Yet still even after swiping a leaflet that fell out of a magazine at the Lone Gunmen’s for an escort agency it took him a week to build up the courage to call them.
He chooses something called “A Girlfriend Experience”, picks someone somewhere within his age-range and tries not to feel guilty about the whole thing.
.:.:.:.:.:.
She was running late.
Tardiness never felt like an option with her yet Emily had refused to go to bed even after Dana told her she had to go to work. It had ended with Dana a few minutes behind and Emily asleep in her bed.
But it was time to push that life aside for now, to enter this restaurant as Danielle and Danielle doesn’t have a child named Emily or an exam in a couple of months.
The restaurant her client had chosen was nice enough; one of those business-y type places that not many wealthy people touched but it was still classy enough to be considered decent to use.
It was rare that she would be fed- food wasn’t often part of the price, after all, it was an extra expense. Besides, most of the men she had encountered just wanted a suck and a fuck and maybe the odd therapy session. Maybe around three of her requests were for this Girlfriend Experience and it wasn’t like she was rolling in requests that much anyway.
Dana had realised quickly the types of women men went for: blonde, tall, boobs. Short redheads who just about fitted into a B-cup never made the cut that often.
Yet, for whatever reason, she had be chosen. From the emails sent this man seemed nice enough of course from the stories she would hear that wasn’t something concrete to go off. People could carefully choose the words they typed, could portray themselves in a certain way online. The same could be said for in person interactions too but people were more likely to slip up during those.
For now, Dana is tucked away, she dons Danielle and approaches able 25 where her companion for the night waits for her.
When she gets there, it’s a gentle tap on the arm, a smile, and a simple “Hi, Mulder.”
.:.:.:.:.:.:.
Mulder’s heart stops in his chest as he stares at her, struck with the thought of how breath-taking she is.
He wouldn’t say little redheads was his ‘type’ but as he was going through the countless lists of girls he hadn’t wanted somebody his type, he wanted no reminder of Diana and so he had chosen her; Danielle, 5’3, 26 years old and the complete opposite to Diana.
He hadn’t seen her face before, for whatever reason she had kept it off the page, Mulder hadn’t been expecting much in terms of looks because of it yet he can’t keep his eyes off her.
He realises she’s said his name and almost comically stumbles his way to standing up, bashing a leg against the table making the cutlery jump and a brief amount of pain to ripple length ways across his right tigh.
“Danielle,” he says wincing through the pain. Her professional name knowing full well it wasn’t her real name. He might be new to this escort world but 1-800 numbers and taught him enough about fake names, maybe he should have considered using one.
She looks to be smiling at his clumsiness, fighting it back, trying to hide it.
A shaky start Mulder thinks, as he pulls out her chair yet she’s sitting down before he gets a chance to show how much of a gentleman he is.
He’s looking through the drinks menu when he realises she’s staring at him, drinking him in. It makes him feel self-conscious.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
Danielle seems to have realised what she was doing, she quickly looks away from him.
“You’re just…different to who I usually meet with,” she says.
Mulder smiles wryly and cocks his head.
“Is that good or bad?” he asks unsure himself.
“That’s good,” she tells him. “Usually I get the…older men and they definitely don’t go out of their way to buy me food.” She lifts her head up and smiles waiting for his reply.
He has none other than how strange he must seem to her right now, how sad. He also tries not to feel jealous at the thought of her with other men. It’s a thought that comes out of nowhere, a thought he has no right in occupying.
“So do you come here often?” she’s asking.
The answer to was that no. It was a drive away from his apartment, away from any potential sightings of colleagues or people he sees on a daily basis.
“Never,” he says realising this could be chaotic.
But she’s laughing and it’s one of the nicest sounds his eyes have ever heard.
“I hope you didn’t come here just to try and impress me.”
“Try?” he counters. “So I take it you’re not so easily impressed?”
She shrugs. “I’ve been told as much.”
Mulder leans in, surprised at how comfortable he feels around her, how at ease he is.
“Well tell me,” he says. “Are you impressed?”
She looks around the establishment, pretending to think.
“Hmm…I think you could have done better.”
“Okay,” Mulder says leaning back and giving the room a once around himself. He would say he’s done pretty well but she’s laughing again, giggling actually, and the restaurant doesn’t matter.
They order food, not that he’s particularly hungry anymore, but for some reason he doesn’t want this to end. Spending $300 a night to talk seems better than spending $300 on an apology.
“So,” Mulder begins. “What do you do aside from…this.”
He wonders about the answer he will receive. She’s lied about her name, will she lie about this or will to follow the truth as much as she can, altering things here and there. He wonders how much of her true name is in her fake name.
“Well…through the day I study mostly,” she says and this perks his interest.
“What do you study?”
“Uh…” He sees she’s searching for an answer and it breaks his heart to know that he isn’t getting the truth though he had expected her to be a bit more prepared for these questions.
“Chemistry,” she finally says. “I wanted to be a scientist.” She says it almost shyly, tucking her head in and refusing to look at him. He amends his previous thought, perhaps there is a truth after all.
“Wanted?” Mulder asks. “Is that still not possible?”
“Well…I guess so. I’m just worried about somebody hiding out about…this.” She purses her lips and shrugs.
Mulder wonder if he’ll get to ask why she does this but then wonders if that’ll be rude to ask anyway even if did get the chance.
“Well, let me pose you a question,” he says just as their food arrives. “Do you believe in the existence of extraterrestrials?”
He watches as she processes his question, her eyebrows knitting together as she attempts to formulate an answer and Mulder is curious as to what that answer is.
“Logically, I would have to say no,” she says slowly. “Given the distances needed to travel from the far reaches of space, the energy requirements would exceed the spacecraft’s capabilities.”
Mulder finds himself impressed with her, the certainty in her answer, he wonders if he’s getting a glimpse of a real person beneath the professionalism, other character.
“Okay, conventional wisdom,” he says, he expected it. “But when convention and science fail us, should we not start looking to the fantastic as answers?”
He thinks he’s caught her, she takes a while to answer, thinking it over through mouthfuls of salads. Mulder is too preoccupied with her mind to worry about the food that goes cold beneath him.
She swallows her food, sitting back in her seat and Mulder waits for the mental foreplay.
“That’s only if convention and science actually fail us.”
He thinks he’s in love.
.:.:.:.:.:.:.
There’s an easiness Dana feels around Mulder. He’s nothing like her previous clients who see nothing beyond her sexual capabilities. Mulder seems to be interested in her mind, in her and she worries she might have revealed too much of herself to him but it’s rare she finds somebody to match her intellect, her classmates can’t keep up with her, her professors shut her down in order to give other members of the class a chance. She feels intellectually frustrated at times.
“Why do you ask all this?” she inquires.
Mulder shrugs. “Oh, it’s just a hobby.”
“Talking about extraterrestrials is a hobby?”
He looks away and mumbles something she doesn’t quite catch.
“What was what?” she asks.
“I look for them.”
It’s endearing, how different he is from anyone else she’s ever met.
“Do you think you’ll ever find them?” It’s not to jest or to make fun of him.
“I’d like to,” Mulder says with an essence of hopefulness in his voice.
.:.:.:.:.:.:.
He makes the decision that he won’t fuck her.
He’ll pay $300 as a fee to access her amazing mind if he must.
They go away from the talk of aliens, something for which Mulder was glad. He has his own secrets locked away and if they continued on the subject anymore, he was worried they would tumble out of his mouth and he’d reveal how spooky he really was. They talk of other stuff, he throws conspiracy theories at her that he barely believes in himself just to hear her debunk them with finesse. She was the one who was right and he was wrong and Mulder is completely okay with that.
He stops when he reaches her hotel, this is the end of one of the best nights of his life. He’ll go home, think of her, perhaps rub one off to the thought of her, and that will be that. He’ll bin that leaflet and they’ll never talk again.
But she’s stopping when she realises he isn’t beside her anymore and turns with a puzzled look on her face.
“Tonight was great, Danielle,” he tells her. “I really enjoyed it.”
Her face almost seems to fall when she realises what he’s doing but she picks herself back up again, nodding.
“Well,” she says walking back towards him. “If we’re not doing that anymore at least let me give you this.”
Her lips touch his and fireworks go off behind him. Mulder feels as though he’s experiencing his first kiss all over again, new and exciting, and a fear that he’s doing something he’s not meant to do.
It doesn’t take long before he’s kissing her back, his tongue trying to gain access to her mouth and to her own tongue. She grants him permission, thank god, and he almost melts inside her mouth.
They fall against a wall, his head collides with the brick but he doesn’t care, there is nothing else on his mind other than the want to pick her up. He’s bent at an awkward angle because even in heels her forehead just about reaches his chin. He’s unsure what to do with his hands, on her hips, on her waist. She seems to become annoyed at his indecisiveness and takes his hands in her own, placing them against her ass all the while not breaking the kiss.
He grows impossibly hard as his senses go into overdrive. He wants her so bad when he said he wouldn’t.
“Danielle…” he moans coming up for air.
“Dana,” he hears her say and at first he’s confused wondering what she’s talking about. “Call me Dana.”
The penny drops. Her name!
“Dana.”
She’s back on him, kissing him harder this time and Mulder was kidding himself before; he’s going to make love to her.