April Showers Drabblethon Prompt 30
Title: Adjustment Period
Author: pukajen
Prompt: Prompt 30
Fandom: X-Files
Character(s)/Pairing(s): MSR
Genre: General
Rating & Warnings: PG
Word Count: 1,000
Summary: The past two weeks had been an adjustment in so much as there wasn’t really anything to adjust to.
Mulder felt his stomach drop as the plane took off. To his left, Scully was calmly reading a Into Thin Air, to his right cars and buildings got smaller and smaller. One of the games Mulder played with himself on flights was trying to identify as many landmarks and major thoroughfares as he could until the plane left the immediate metropolitan area.
He figured Washington didn’t count any more as it would tax even his memory to figure out exactly how many times he’d flown in and out from the surrounding airports.
This was their first out of town case they’d been assigned since That Night. Nineteen days ago, Mulder lured Scully to the office on a weekend to try and get her to chase crop circles with him. Seventeen days ago, he returned to Washington to discover his very science-based partner had had an epiphany of sorts while following a faceless woman after running into an ex-lover. Sixteen days ago, he woke up to find Scully standing at the foot of his bed, wearing a calmly determined expression as she watched him sleep.
The past two weeks had been an adjustment in so much as there wasn’t really anything to adjust to. That Monday, they’d both gone to the office as usual, companionably slogged through paperwork, then gone back to his apartment. There was never any discussion of if she was coming over to his place, it was just a given.
There was no gut-wrenching figuring out this new level of their relationship, no scene with recriminations or dramatic declarations of love; there didn’t need to be, they both carried more than enough guilt, and Mulder knew that Scully loved him, just as she knew he loved her.
It was never a question of love, more a question of if they were ready for this change, if they could handle being intimately involved with every part of the other’s life. Years of working so closely together meant that there were no surprises, not need to adjust to new routines or figure out how to deal with annoying habits.
Scully knew he was a kind of slob, he knew she was a bit of a neat-freak, but so far neither trait was a problem; though Mulder knew he was picking up a bit more with Scully around. Just as he knew she refrained from commenting when he tossed his keys on the coffee table or left a plate in the sink.
The plane leveled off at cruising altitude, he heard the telltale clicks as the fasten seatbelt sign dinged off. Neither he nor Scully undid theirs; both leery of unexpected turbulence.
Glancing at Scully one last time; her head was bent, hair curtaining her face as she read, and Mulder forced himself to not reach out and tuck the strands behind her ear. It was a desire warn smooth over time, no longer the sharp pang of years ago.
Mulder put on his headphones and buried himself in the casefile.
# # #
Their motel rooms were adjoining, but then, Scully suspected all the rooms at the Lazy Pond Stay-N-Sleep were adjoining. The black roller bag she usually travelled with was in room nine, her suits in the closet, her toiletries neatly arranged on the meager countertop, but she was curled up under the covers in the bed of room eight. Flipping through the snowy channels twice, Scully finally settling on a documentary on the construction of the Panama Canal.
Mulder sat at the rickety table, glass on, intently studying a grain picture of a supposed poltergeist that was blamed for no few than three fires, seven vehicular accidents, and twelve cases of assault and battery.
Adjusting the cheap pillow behind her back, Scully let her eyes roam over Mulder. In the past, when she looked him over, it was always with the professional eyes of a doctor. Or so she told herself. Now, Scully didn’t need that excuse; he was wearing an old grey t-shirt proclaiming the wonders of New York and a pair of pale blue boxers. His long limbs were well-muscled and tanned despite the fact that it was barely spring.
Long before last week, Scully knew what it felt like to have his arms wrap around her, to hold her close, to feel his lips brush her skin, but now she knew what all those things felt like when he was intent on seducing her, better yet, what it felt like to be held by him as they lay in bed drifting off to sleep after having made love.
Much like that Monday night, there wasn’t a discussion of where she was going to sleep. Scully wasn’t sure when they started leaving the doors between their rooms unlocked, they’d left them opened least a cracked since Padget; a crack that steadily grew as the weeks passed.
Like so much in of their relationship, they never discussed the change, never commented on it, just adjusted their routine and carried on.
“Come to bed, Mulder,” she said as she watched him jerk himself awake for the third time.
“I just want to finish this,” he muttered absentmindedly.
“It’ll still be there in the morning.”
“You sure?” Mulder asked sardonically.
“Mostly.”
He grinned at her and stood, stacking the papers on the table into neat piles. From her close proximity, Scully could easily hear the pops of his spine as Mulder stretched before ambling the short distance to the bathroom.
Rearranging the pillows, Scully made herself as comfortable as she could in the lumpy motel room bed. She turned onto her side and waited for Mulder to finish brushing his teeth.
The covers lifted and the mattress dipped as Mulder settled next to her. It was a bit of an adjustment having him sleep next to her, but it was one that Scully was happy to make; years of longing and loneliness were over. Letting out a sigh, she drifted off to sleep secure in his light, yet reassuring embrace.
Author: pukajen
Prompt: Prompt 30
Fandom: X-Files
Character(s)/Pairing(s): MSR
Genre: General
Rating & Warnings: PG
Word Count: 1,000
Summary: The past two weeks had been an adjustment in so much as there wasn’t really anything to adjust to.
Mulder felt his stomach drop as the plane took off. To his left, Scully was calmly reading a Into Thin Air, to his right cars and buildings got smaller and smaller. One of the games Mulder played with himself on flights was trying to identify as many landmarks and major thoroughfares as he could until the plane left the immediate metropolitan area.
He figured Washington didn’t count any more as it would tax even his memory to figure out exactly how many times he’d flown in and out from the surrounding airports.
This was their first out of town case they’d been assigned since That Night. Nineteen days ago, Mulder lured Scully to the office on a weekend to try and get her to chase crop circles with him. Seventeen days ago, he returned to Washington to discover his very science-based partner had had an epiphany of sorts while following a faceless woman after running into an ex-lover. Sixteen days ago, he woke up to find Scully standing at the foot of his bed, wearing a calmly determined expression as she watched him sleep.
The past two weeks had been an adjustment in so much as there wasn’t really anything to adjust to. That Monday, they’d both gone to the office as usual, companionably slogged through paperwork, then gone back to his apartment. There was never any discussion of if she was coming over to his place, it was just a given.
There was no gut-wrenching figuring out this new level of their relationship, no scene with recriminations or dramatic declarations of love; there didn’t need to be, they both carried more than enough guilt, and Mulder knew that Scully loved him, just as she knew he loved her.
It was never a question of love, more a question of if they were ready for this change, if they could handle being intimately involved with every part of the other’s life. Years of working so closely together meant that there were no surprises, not need to adjust to new routines or figure out how to deal with annoying habits.
Scully knew he was a kind of slob, he knew she was a bit of a neat-freak, but so far neither trait was a problem; though Mulder knew he was picking up a bit more with Scully around. Just as he knew she refrained from commenting when he tossed his keys on the coffee table or left a plate in the sink.
The plane leveled off at cruising altitude, he heard the telltale clicks as the fasten seatbelt sign dinged off. Neither he nor Scully undid theirs; both leery of unexpected turbulence.
Glancing at Scully one last time; her head was bent, hair curtaining her face as she read, and Mulder forced himself to not reach out and tuck the strands behind her ear. It was a desire warn smooth over time, no longer the sharp pang of years ago.
Mulder put on his headphones and buried himself in the casefile.
# # #
Their motel rooms were adjoining, but then, Scully suspected all the rooms at the Lazy Pond Stay-N-Sleep were adjoining. The black roller bag she usually travelled with was in room nine, her suits in the closet, her toiletries neatly arranged on the meager countertop, but she was curled up under the covers in the bed of room eight. Flipping through the snowy channels twice, Scully finally settling on a documentary on the construction of the Panama Canal.
Mulder sat at the rickety table, glass on, intently studying a grain picture of a supposed poltergeist that was blamed for no few than three fires, seven vehicular accidents, and twelve cases of assault and battery.
Adjusting the cheap pillow behind her back, Scully let her eyes roam over Mulder. In the past, when she looked him over, it was always with the professional eyes of a doctor. Or so she told herself. Now, Scully didn’t need that excuse; he was wearing an old grey t-shirt proclaiming the wonders of New York and a pair of pale blue boxers. His long limbs were well-muscled and tanned despite the fact that it was barely spring.
Long before last week, Scully knew what it felt like to have his arms wrap around her, to hold her close, to feel his lips brush her skin, but now she knew what all those things felt like when he was intent on seducing her, better yet, what it felt like to be held by him as they lay in bed drifting off to sleep after having made love.
Much like that Monday night, there wasn’t a discussion of where she was going to sleep. Scully wasn’t sure when they started leaving the doors between their rooms unlocked, they’d left them opened least a cracked since Padget; a crack that steadily grew as the weeks passed.
Like so much in of their relationship, they never discussed the change, never commented on it, just adjusted their routine and carried on.
“Come to bed, Mulder,” she said as she watched him jerk himself awake for the third time.
“I just want to finish this,” he muttered absentmindedly.
“It’ll still be there in the morning.”
“You sure?” Mulder asked sardonically.
“Mostly.”
He grinned at her and stood, stacking the papers on the table into neat piles. From her close proximity, Scully could easily hear the pops of his spine as Mulder stretched before ambling the short distance to the bathroom.
Rearranging the pillows, Scully made herself as comfortable as she could in the lumpy motel room bed. She turned onto her side and waited for Mulder to finish brushing his teeth.
The covers lifted and the mattress dipped as Mulder settled next to her. It was a bit of an adjustment having him sleep next to her, but it was one that Scully was happy to make; years of longing and loneliness were over. Letting out a sigh, she drifted off to sleep secure in his light, yet reassuring embrace.