By:xf4ever
xf4ever2003@yahoo.com
 

RATING: PG, for one lousy stinkin' curse word

DISCLAIMER: Not mine. Several seasons would not have
occurred if they were.

CLASSIFICATION: MSR/UST/S/V, unapologetic fluff

SPOILERS: Are there spoilers anymore? Maybe I should just
say that this falls in the good old days where Mulder and
Scully flirted like crazy, but probably weren't in the
sack, the show consisted mainly of good old MOTW eps,
nobody was pregnant, and nobody was hiding life-threatening
diseases from their partner.

FEEDBACK: xf4ever2003@yahoo.com, but only if you're gentle.
No, really, I'd like to know what you (yes, YOU!) think.

ARCHIVING: Please ask first, but I can't imagine any reason
I'd say no!

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is my first fic. Ever. Yes, I am
joining this particular bandwagon rather extraordinarily
late in the game, but I hope that in deference to my
writing virginity, you, my fair readers, will see fit to
treat me kindly. See further notes at the end.

Oh, and P.S., any and all mistakes here are mine and mine
alone. Someday I'm sure I'll be brave enough to ask a beta
for help, but today is not that day.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

AD Skinner's Office
February 14th, 1998

Could he get away with it?

From the glazed look in Skinner's eye, he could probably
have set off several minor explosions without catching the
attention of his superior.

Mulder had never made any great effort to appear interested
in the goings-on of quarterly budget meetings. In fact, he
usually tried his best to avoid them altogether. Although
Scully insisted on dragging him along anyway, he suspected
that she secretly relied on his ability to find urgent
cases at the far reaches of the nation when they received
the dreaded budget memo.

This time, he had failed her; for some reason he couldn't
understand, Skinner had refused to approve his 302 for a
case concerning the mysterious situation of several
patients at a San Diego hospital who had begun to discharge
a purplish mucus from their nasal cavities. Mulder expected
Consortium involvement, possibly connected to the
development of a hazardous bio-weapon, but neither Skinner
nor Scully were convinced.

So now he sat here, trying desperately to maintain
consciousness and contemplating slipping his partner a note
under the table.  That wasn't too juvenile, right? In fact,
some might consider it cute; endearing.?

He somehow doubted that Scully would perceive it quite that
way. However, if he didn't do something soon, he would find
his himself sliding to the ground, the tragic victim of
Profound Stupification of the Brain.

In what he knew to be a pathetically transparent attempt at
subterfuge, Mulder focused his complete attention on Agent
Brody at the head of the rectangular table, (who Mulder
secretly suspected of operating under a waking coma worthy
of its own X-file) and took up the appearance of a fully
engaged and attentive agent, scribbling notes on the
scintillating accounting information making its way to his
unresponsive auditory canals.

He heard Scully shifting in her seat behind him and to his
right. His expression did not change from its customary
deadpan, but he allowed himself a mental grin when he
realized the source of her discomfort. She knew full well
that he never paid attention during these meetings, and his
sudden interest in department expenditures and budget cuts
was making her suspicious.

Mulder scribbled a quick missive on his notepad, and, after
discretely tearing off the corner of paper that it
occupied, slipped it seamlessly into Scully's skirt-clad
lap under the guise of scratching his knee.

For a brief moment, Scully considered the option of
ignoring her partner's attempt to liven the meeting. But
after a few moments of contemplation, she saw no harm in
reading the note, so long as no one else noticed. There was
also the small fact that she was bored out of her mind to
consider.

So, in a much more subtly executed maneuver than Mulder's
Totally Focused Special Agent act, Scully allowed her eyes
to drop the slightest bit to the note resting in her lap.

:::So, Scully, in your professional medical opinion, do you
think it's possible that Skinman has discovered the secret
of napping with his eyes open?:::

To Mulder's delight, he witnessed Scully smoothly move her
writing hand from the desk to her lap out of the corner of
his eye. Seconds later, her chair moved closer to his, and
the paper was slipped onto his right thigh.

:::I think a more pressing question is how long it will be
until we're allowed out of here, so "Skinman" can regain
access to the couch near the door:::

Mulder smirked. In seconds, the paper was returned to
Scully's hand, which had been patiently waiting under the
table for her partner's reply.

:::Ooo, Scully, what's the hurry? Concern for the boss, or
a hot date tonight?:::

Sometimes, Scully thought, Mulder was just too predictable.

She took the time to tear off another piece of paper to
replace the abused scrap that they'd been using as she
considered her reply. She couldn't resist the opportunity
to tease him.

Mulder waited impatiently to see how his she would respond.
Scully seemed to be in a playful mood, and he was always
pleased to get a sarcastic witticism out of his normally
no-nonsense partner.

The paper she slipped back to him contained only one short
line:

:::Why - you offering?:::

It was all Mulder could do to restrain the full-fledged
grin that threatened his expressionless facade when he read
his partner's note. Frisky much, Scully? he thought as he
quickly scrawled his reply and handed it back.

:::For you, baby, anything :::

Scully snorted when she read his answer. The sound awakened
the agent across the table from her, who gave her a bleary
glare before facing the front of the room again. Scully
mouthed an apology and reminded herself to remain cognizant
of where they were.

By all rights, she should be pissed, at least by the
terminology; but wasn't that always the deal with Mulder?
He always walked that thin line between amusing irreverence
and blatant impropriety. It just so happened that today she
was willing to walk that line with him. Nothing like a
mind-numbingly boring budget meeting to lower your
inhibitions.

She took a deep breath before quirking her mouth and
writing her reply.

:::Anything, Mulder? Does that mean you'll be my
Valentine?:::

Mulder froze when he read his partner's words. Valentine?
Shit, it was Valentine's Day, wasn't it? He supposed he'd
known that somewhere in the back of his mind. It was hard
to escape with all the advertisements posted everywhere
urging him to "Buy something special for the one you love,"
but somehow it had never penetrated his consciousness in
any significant way. All of a sudden he was unsure about
Scully's intentions. Was this her way of reproaching him
for not doing anything for Valentine's? Did he have an
obligation to do anything as her partner? Somehow he'd only
thought that the holiday carried obligations for boyfriends
and husbands, and he was neither. Right?

But things had been changing between him and Scully. It had
been so subtle that it had taken him quite a while to
notice it, but he WAS a psychology major, and these things
did tend to catch his attention. The honest truth was that
they had both been quietly building up their relationship
in subtle ways that were more geared towards improving
their friendship than their partnership. He tried to
respect her religious views more; she tried harder to make
sure that he knew she had faith in him, even when they
disagreed; they touched more; they were both more sensitive
to the other's emotional needs; in short, they were
beginning to silently acknowledge the depth of their
interpersonal relationship.

Maybe he should have done something for Valentine's Day.
Maybe that's what this new awareness between them should
have been leading up to. He suddenly felt incredibly
guilty.

*******

She had made a huge mistake. Mulder had his panic face on,
which usually only happened when he was faced with imminent
and excruciating physical suffering, or difficult emotional
situations.

Scully suspected that it was the latter that plagued him
now.

What had she been thinking? Mulder teased and poked fun,
but he really never expected her to reciprocate. For all
his sex appeal and bravado, Mulder wasn't the most
romantically mature man in the world. She should have known
better than to push him. And what was she supposed to do
about it now? They were in the middle of a budget meeting;
it wasn't as though she could drag him outside and
apologize.

She had to figure out a way to fix this.

*******

But what was a guy supposed to do for his not-really-
girlfriend/best friend/unacknowledged soul mate for
Valentine's Day? Especially a guy like him - who hadn't
been in a major relationship in almost a decade?

Just then, Mulder's reverie was interrupted by a small hand
creeping onto the sleeve of his suit jacket. He turned just
slightly to his right and hesitantly looked his partner in
the eye. And what he saw was Dana Scully looking at him
with the most resigned, concerned look of apology on her
face that he'd ever seen.

Within seconds, he realized how ridiculous it was to think
that Scully would expect anything from him on Valentine's
Day. Scully was the most low-maintenance woman on the face
of the planet, and his case of nerves had more to with the
expectations that he had for himself than any expectations
that she had for him.

He slipped his hand under the desk, and, in a quick move
that shocked both of them, he gripped her hand and leaned
over to whisper in her ear:

"I'll be your Valentine any day, Scully. You just let me
know when you're ready."

For a brief moment, their eyes connected in inexpressibly
eloquent tenderness. Then he turned back towards the front
of the room and addressed his attention to Agent Brody.

Scully's expression never changed, but she felt the
sentiments in his gaze run straight to her gut and spread
warmth all over her body. She had been wrong. Mulder was
ready, and he wasn't afraid to say so. She communicated her
appreciation for his words in the only way she could.

She gave a tight squeeze to the fingers that still firmly
held hers under the table.
 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

ADDITIONAL AUTHOR'S NOTES:  I feel like it's worth
mentioning here that I am perfectly aware that this story
stretches our beloved duo's tendency towards caprice a
little farther than reality (or CC) would ever allow.
Regardless, I was inspired by the holiday, and I don't
think I dragged them too far away from the realm of
character credibility.

I wrote this in one day, and, for all I know, will be
posting a corrected version some time in the future. Until
that time, I hope you've enjoyed my little bit of holiday
fluff ?. Happy Valentine's Day!

Oh, and BTW, I am in fact aware that "stupification" is not
a real word.