Chapter Text
Scully's first official day back after her abduction felt more like an elementary school holiday party than a normal work day from Mulder's perspective. She took a week off to recover after getting released from the hospital, and he was pretty sure that was only because he'd enlisted the help of her mother and they wore her down together. During that time, she'd met with Dr. Karen Kosseff who declared her mentally sound, before she was back in the office, ready to work bright and early.
He wished she'd take it easy, but he recognized that was the pot calling the kettle black. "I need to work, Mulder. I want to come back." That was all she said over the phone every time he so much as tried to broach the subject of prolonging her paid time off. The only reason he wasn't pressing harder was that he worried time away was having the opposite effect. The more he refused her request to let everything return to normal, the more she had to stew in just how far from normal the past three months had been.
Mulder had arrived to work an hour before he usually did so he could prepare and make everything look presentable for her. While he couldn't control if Mrs. Scully or Melissa were recounting any stories about him to her, he didn't think Scully needed to know how much her absence had taken a toll on him, and the first step to ensuring she wouldn't find out was making sure everything was in order.
As soon as he got to their office, he encountered what would be the first of many bouquets and 'Welcome Back' cards. It was evident that Scully had many admirers at the Bureau, and he couldn't help but wonder if she kept her acquaintanceships with other agents a secret from him since she knew his reputation made it harder for him to connect.
While he was tidying up the neglected office, several more bouquets were sent down. Some were delivered by admirers, some from the accountants he knew Scully liked, but all of them were lavish and inviting. Mulder wasn't quite sure where they should go, so he decided to scatter them around the room so that she was reminded of her welcome no matter where she looked. As he moved the various vases and bouquets around, he couldn't help but nosily glance at who each arrangement came from. Several names were unfamiliar to him, but others stuck out.
Mom.
Blevins.
Ellen.
Tom Colton.
Dr. Kosseff.
Kimberly.
Holly xoxo.
Skinner.
Forever yours, Melvin.
Mulder suddenly felt a twinge of guilt. Should he have gotten her flowers? He didn't even think of that. In all technicality, he did give her a gift while she was in the hospital, but it was hard to feel good about the gag gift while staring at the two dozen sunflowers that Skinner had sent. Even Frohike's bouquet was impressive, and he was pretty sure Scully was still nursing the first batch he'd given her.
As soon as he was about to succumb to the urge to run across the street and pick something up, he heard the comforting sound of Scully's heels clicking down the hallway. He quickly scampered behind his desk, trying to look casual while Scully rounded the corner. Her tuft of red hair poked around the doorframe and a pair of curious blue eyes met his accompanied by an enthusiastic grin.
"I'm sorry," she apologized, her voice taking on a soft tone as she walked into the room. "Am I in the right place? I'm trying to find the FBI's most unwanted."
Her playful attitude brought a beaming smile to his face as he played along. "Well then, you're in luck. Though, it seems today I'm sharing the space with the FBI's most wanted," he teased, gesturing his hands broadly to show off all the welcome bouquets and gifts.
He was surprised to realize she hadn't even noticed them until they were pointed out — that her attention had been solely focused on him. "Did you do all this?" she murmured, looking around the room in awe.
Mulder shrugged, and the twinging guilt of showing up empty-handed ached a little more. "Call me Martha Stewart," he joked. "But these are from… well just about everyone else."
Her brows shot up as she strolled around their office, bending down or stretching up to inhale each bouquet of unique flora.
Mulder leaned against the filing cabinet and happily watched her. Even if he hadn't given her a single flower, the look of wonder on her face was all he could hope for. He was blatantly gazing at her when she finally wandered over to the giant bundle of red roses bursting from an ornate glass vase. The monstrous thing had to cost more than his last government paycheck.
A bashful smile spread across her face while her thumb ran kindly over the parchment of the name tag. "Who're those from?" he pried.
"Um, they're from Agent Cooper," she answered, a lilt in her voice.
"Oh."
His short reply caused her to look up with a furrowed brow. "Do you not like Agent Cooper?"
Mulder wished he didn't like Agent Cooper, but he just might be the nicest guy he'd ever met. "Oh, no. I like him a lot. In '87 when I was with the ISU, he worked a sting operation in Tijuana that was the talk of the Bureau. I've met the DEA agent who worked with him on the case, and she always sings his praise."
Scully nodded as if that was the answer she expected, that shy smile returning despite her efforts to repress it. "He gave a guest lecture to my class when I was at Quantico. I really like him."
"He must've liked you too if he sent you such a nice bouquet," Mulder murmured, staring at the lavish roses.
"I didn't think I left much of an impression, but two dozen roses seem to say otherwise. They're beautiful."
"They aren't exactly cheap, either," he mumbled.
He didn't think of the bouquet again for a while after that. Instead, his focus was on aptly watching Scully reintegrate back into her natural habitat. Despite all the time that had passed since they'd last cohabited the Hoover basement, being back felt like they'd never left. With every critique of his messy workspace and every shared glace, the same mantra kept repeating in time with his heartbeat.
I missed her.
For the rest of the morning, Mulder was reminded that he wasn't alone in his sentiments. The bouquets of flowers seemed to foreshadow a procession of visitors who had made their way down to the basement to see if Dana Scully was really back in the flesh. Each time a new person showed up, Scully would look at him bashfully before gracefully accepting the fawning of the guest. Even though he could tell she was appreciative of everyone's concern, he knew Scully hated being at the center of attention like this. He didn't need to ask to know she was aware that her abduction and return were the center of office gossip for months.
As much as he wanted to shield her from anything that would make her uncomfortable, he couldn't help but relish witnessing Scully interact with people who cared about her. A young woman he didn't know very well named Holly came down and filled Scully in on 'everything she'd missed' on Mad About You, and even though Scully was trying to play it like she was only slightly interested anytime she caught his eye, the detailed questions and rapt attention she was giving Holly said otherwise.
However, no matter who came down, it seemed that someone always had to draw attention to the vibrant red roses sitting near her. He felt an irrational sense of irritation bubble up every time she shyly answered Agent Cooper and everyone fawned over how great he was. It felt wrong to resent such a nice guy, so he blamed it on the fact that the people singing Cooper's praise only spared him a fleeting glance when visiting their office.
Regardless, he couldn't ignore the way Scully's attention always seemed to linger on the name card, even after her guests left. Even when he tried asking her if she wanted to grab lunch together, she continued staring at the card, her tongue swiping nervously across her mauve-painted lips.
Mulder moved closer. "Something wrong?"
"No." She shook her head and plucked the folded card from its nest of roses. "No, it's just that… I think you're right. Agent Cooper likes me."
"Who wouldn't?" Mulder wanted to reassure her of how much she was truly appreciated around the Hoover Building, if the swarm of flower arrangements and parade of guests and phone calls hadn't given that away already.
Scully huffed with her chin dipped to her chest. "I mean he really likes me."
Oh! His eyes widened. "Oh."
"Yeah…"
A sudden urge of something he did not want to identify as territoriality left his heart racing. "So he asked you out on the card." It wasn't a question. Her mixed expression of astonishment and bashfulness told him so loud and clear.
"Saturday night."
It was irrational, he knew it stemmed from the trauma of losing her, but the thought of her going out with someone she barely knew made his stomach churn. Mulder knew this possessiveness was unbecoming and that Scully would rebuke it in an instant, but he couldn't help but wish he could keep her by his side at all times to make sure she was safe. Despite this, he found himself asking, "And that's not a good thing?"
"I just-" she paused, her worry creasing the smooth skin in between her eyes. "I think I'm bad at dating." The admission was given in a breathless whisper as she cast her eyes to the card clasped in her hands.
He was glad she looked away so she missed the pout that involuntarily took residence on his face. Mulder knew admitting something didn't come naturally to Scully was hard for her. She'd all but broken the copier machine in the break room because she didn't want to confess that she didn't know how to send a fax. She was a woman who took pride in doing things right, and while he didn't revel in her mistakes, he certainly enjoyed seeing her vulnerable side. Admitting she struggled with something this intimate in nature had to be killing her, but it was just so painfully cute to him.
He contemplated deflecting her comment with a joke, but if it didn't land after she just admitted something in a moment of vulnerability to him, he imagined she wouldn't be apt to be open with him in the future.
"Hey," he murmured gently, waiting to continue until she met his eyes. "I think you're being too hard on yourself."
She chuffed a laugh. "No, I know that I can be awkward."
Mulder's eyebrows furrowed at her self-assessment. Awkward? He could see intimidating; during cases her candor sometimes came across as off-putting to those who didn't know her, but he always considered her to be graceful and straightforward. Maybe blunt, but definitely not awkward.
"I know the reputation I have," she admitted, tossing the card on the desk before wringing her hands together. "I presume he does too."
"I don't," he replied earnestly.
Scully glanced at him to see if he was teasing her and he pouted his bottom lip, urging her on.
"That I'm frigid, no fun," she replied.
He gawked and shook his head before she even finished. "Frigid?" he repeated, the word tasting vile on his tongue.
"Frigid bitch, ice queen, stick in the mud, take your pick." She was repeating the words with an attempt at indifference, but he could tell from her demeanor and the slight hitch in her voice that it offended her.
"Who's saying this?" he asked, askance.
His tone must've been harsher than intended because it caused her to laugh. "What are you going to do? Beat them up?"
Mulder seriously considered it. But the look of amusement gleaming in her eyes caused him to reconsider, his petite partner could and would take care of herself if she saw fit. "Just say the word and old Spooky will scare 'em off."
"Of that, I have no doubt," she said fondly, her eyes darting back down at the card.
Mulder reached his hand out and tapped his fingers against the wood of his desk to coax her to look at him. "But, seriously, I know hearing that must hurt, but I don't think it's a widespread sentiment. I mean look at how many people were happy you're back! You have pretty much every section of the FBI covered here," he explained, gesturing to the array of flowers, gifts, and cards that had taken over their office. "You have a bouquet of sunflowers from Skinner. Skinner!"
"He probably thought they'd remind me of your habitual seed consumption." She smirked, then scrunched her eyes shut. "It's hard for me to let loose. To… relax."
"To let someone in," Mulder finished for her.
Scully's eyes popped open again. "Yes."
They hadn't discussed their pasts very much. Scully knew some of the heavier aspects involving Samantha, he had little doubt that she could glean that he didn't come from the happiest of homes, but they didn't really talk about their life experiences growing up.
Despite that, with the anecdotes he'd learned from her mother and sister, Mulder was certain he knew what she was like. A studious, dedicated young girl who thrived off of the validation of adult figures in her life. Just knowing her now, he was positive that she was the type of person growing up who was considered gifted and talented, and while she undoubtedly was, he imagined that when she was put into situations where she didn't immediately thrive, she shut down under the presumption it would be too risky to expose vulnerability.
In other words, this was probably her nightmare.
"Are you going to turn him down?" Mulder pressed.
"Maybe." He watched as his usually self-assured, confident partner chewed her plump lip and let her gaze fall to the floor. She looked upset, and Mulder felt his heart break at the notion she was disappointed in herself. "It's probably for the best," she shrugged.
"That's not what he thinks," Mulder chided, tapping his finger against the folded tag. It had a cheerful greeting on the front and he could see the extra time the man took to woo her in whatever plea was written on the inside. He had to give it to the guy, it was a grand gesture, Mulder thought sourly.
Scully smiled softly, unaware of his sudden dour musings, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "What if I freak him out?"
Painful realization began creeping through his veins, and he felt his brain fog over. She thought her abduction made her undesirable. Neither of them had spoken the A-word since she'd returned, and he wasn't about to break the streak right now. Waiting until the silence provoked her into looking at him, he maintained her unguarded gaze and firmly stated, "Then he doesn't deserve you, and all you have to offer."
She arched a brow, a blush painting her cheeks a pretty pink. "Thanks, Mulder," she murmured.
Mulder could tell she wasn't convinced, and he understood her anxieties were deeper than a single conversation could assuage. It bothered him that she couldn't see how incredible she was. Then, an unconventional idea struck him, and he was offering it before he took the time to think it through, "We should go on a date."
Her eyes widened as her attention snapped to him immediately. They sat in silence for a moment as his idea hung in the air between them. "W-wha…" she stammered, but he cut her off before she had a chance to finish her thought.
"You know, like a practice round," he supplemented. "You're nervous about getting into the dating scene again, so we could do a trial run. That way you feel more confident when it comes to the real deal."
Initially, he was confident she was going to turn him down. Her face contorted into a familiar expression of disbelief, but slowly melted into contemplation. He hadn't put much thought into it, but in all honesty, it wasn't his worst idea.
"So… we treat it like a date, but without the stress of it being an actual date?" she mused aloud.
"Exactly," he nodded. "Purely platonic."
Scully tilted her head in contemplation and he felt excitement brew in his gut as he realized she might actually take him up. "Where would we go?" she asked.
"Wherever you want to go," he shrugged, lifting his feet onto the desk while reclining in his chair. Something comforting swept over him as they spoke about making plans together. It almost seemed… normal.
"Where do you think Agent Cooper would want to go?" she pressed. Then, as if remembering they were still at work, she quickly looked over her shoulder to make sure no one was listening.
"Well, I heard he's a simple kinda guy, big fan of black coffee and pie," he started. "I think if he had things his way, he'd eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner at local diners."
"That sounds nice," she remarked, pausing as he held out his finger.
"But, he strikes me as a man who would spare no expense to show a woman a good time. Perhaps he'd take you out to an expensive dinner, maybe drinking and dancing," he added. He was surprised to see Scully's face twist in displeasure upon that remark. "No good?"
"That just doesn't really appeal to me," she replied.
"Romance?"
She chuffed a laugh while shaking her head, a tendril of red hair falling loose from behind her ear. "No, the grandiose romantic gestures. It just feels a bit… inauthentic. I'd much prefer just a relaxing night in than anything that lavish, but I know a night in isn't an option."
"Why?" he pressed, intrigued at these unexpected Scully-insights.
She shot him a look that let him know he'd just betrayed the ignorance of his gender.
"Inviting a man into your home on the first date, aside from being dangerous, can send a message that some may misinterpret as a promise or guarantee."
Her explanation made him feel dumb for not considering that and he winced in acquiescence. Thinking about Scully inviting a date into her home wasn't what he wanted to think about anyway.
Switching topics, he asked, "What's a turn-off about the big romantic gestures?"
"A lot of the guys I've dated in the past go a bit overboard. They'd take me to expensive dinners, buy me expensive gifts, and I don't mean to sound ungrateful or anything — but it always makes me uncomfortable, especially when I barely know them, because it feels like they're buying my affection. I feel like I can't reciprocate, and I hate the feeling of being indebted to them."
A deep hum resonated from the back of his throat as he digested her words. It was interesting hearing this from her perspective as a woman. He couldn't help but think of Jack Willis. Her admission that she dated her academy instructor had caught him off guard but didn't necessarily surprise him. Mulder had worked with Willis a bit, and while he was nice, he could easily see him being the type to try and flaunt his money to impress her; to toss out the exorbitant stuff en masse and see what stuck. It didn't sit right with him that he'd dated her while she was a student, but he didn't think it was his place to comment on, especially with his recent death.
"Besides," she added, drawing his focus back to her. "I don't really enjoy meeting new people, especially not in these settings."
"Really?" he asked. His response earned a look of surprise from her, and he clarified by explaining, "I don't know. I've always thought there's something appealing about meeting someone for the first time. There are no preconceptions you have to fight. It's like you have full control of your own clean slate."
A sympathetic expression passed across her features, but she deftly hid any pity she may have felt brewing beneath her skin. She'd been around him long enough to know pity wasn't something he enjoyed.
"But hey," he blurted, trying to change the darkening mood. "At least you've met Agent Cooper before."
"Yeah, I guess you're right," she mused. "But… I think I would like to take you up on your offer for a practice round. As long as it wouldn't make you uncomfortable, of course."
"He asked to take you out Saturday?" he confirmed, waiting for her nod. "Well then, looks like that leaves us tonight." The words spilled from his lips effortlessly, but his skin felt alive with the knowledge that Scully'd just accepted his invitation for a date — practice or not.
"I'm not interrupting any plans, am I?" she wondered, clearly anxious she was asking too much of him already.
Little did she know, he'd give her the moon if she asked for it.
He waved his hand dismissively in the air with a playful smirk, "Let's just say this will serve as a much-needed refresher for me as well."
"Thank you, Mulder. I think it'll be easier with you," she admitted, avoiding his gaze as she grabbed a file from the desk.
He wasn't sure if she meant easier because they were friends or easier because she didn't want anything more than that so the stakes were low. What he did know was that this was the second best thing to happen to him in a long while.
"How does this sound? I'll find someplace to eat that I think is date-worthy and I'll pick you up at eight," he offered.
"It's a date."