Disclaimer: Not mine

Spoilers: None

A/N: Mulder and Scully ran away to some remote island somewhere when they found out I was writing for other fandoms. I understand their jealousy, but don't they understand that I still love them as much as I ever did? I just never got much of a chance to sow my wild oats in my younger years, and I suppose it's catching up to me. I am truly sorry for betraying them, and in the future, I hope we can live peacefully together again. This story is just an olive branch.

"You look like you need macaroni and cheese," Mulder announced upon seeing Scully's expression when she walked into the office. She just stared at him before dropping a packet of paper on his desk.

"Our official reprimands? They're getting wordier. And more specific. And they're making that vein on Skinner's head stick up more."

"All in a day's work."

"I don't think that's funny."

"I'm sorry. Any idea why they didn't want me to go up there with you?"

"I will give you one guess."

"They hate me?"

"And I am just oh so charming."

"You get the crappy end of the deal once again."

"I do."

"Which is why I say you need macaroni and cheese."

"Are you going to make it for me? It holds no magical healing powers unless you make it for me."

"Why are you three today?"

"I'm not three, I'm just grumpy."

"You think I'm magical," he said, sliding into his coat.

"No, I said the macaroni was magical."

"Doesn't that mean the maker is also magical?"

"How did you even get that?"

"I Dream of Jeannie. It's genetic."

"You can't pass genes on to macaroni, Mulder," she sighed, following him out the door.

"You believe in magic macaroni, but you don't believe in genetic macaroni? Double standard."

"I can't even think of a response."

"I can't even believe we just had that conversation."

She chuckled as they walked out to their cars, parked side by side.

"I'll meet you at the grocery store," he said, opening his door. "We can find dessert too."

"Plan."

They got into their cars and she followed him to the grocery store, once again struck by their superior communication skills that came without actually speaking. Sure, sometimes she did feel like grabbing his face and yelling as loud as she could, begging him to understand her. But most of the time, he already knew.

She parked her car a few spaces away from his and joined him as they walked into the store. He grabbed a cart and they started to roam the aisles.

"Mulder why do you always put such weird stuff in the cart?"

"You say always like I do it all the time."

"You do do it all the time."

"Hey, at least I am predictable. A safe haven in a world of storms of unpredictability, solid ground when the-"

"Shut up, Mulder."

"Yes ma'am. Ooh, pudding!"

She chuckled as he put it into the cart.

"Don't forget licorice," she said

"You foodie."

"Licorice is not food."

"It is the way you eat it."

"One pound of licorice is not a lot."

"It is when you weigh four pounds, Scully."

"You're a jerk."

"What a thing to call your best friend."

"Ew, you're a boy."

"I hope so. Can we get some potato chips too?"

"We're going to be bloated."

"Win some, lose some."

They wandered down the aisles for a few more minutes, filling the cart with things that they really didn't need. Scully looked at it and shook her head.

"My day wasn't this bad," she said as Mulder started to put the groceries onto the counter.

"We're just stocking up for next time."

"Oh well that's encouraging."

"Oh crud, did we forget the macaroni?"

"No, it's right here."

"For a second there I thought this whole trip was for naught."

She smirked as the checker rang up their mounds of junk food and Mulder paid.

"To the Bat Cave!" he hollered, jumping on the cart and riding it across the parking lot. She rolled her eyes but laughed inside. This best friend of hers was pretty ridiculous.

"My macaroni is cold."

"Hmm. That's too bad."

"That was not the appropriate response, Mulder."

"And what is?"

"Hey Scully, let me go warm that up for you."

"You got legs. And nice ones at that."

She just stared at him until he sighed.

"Alright, but only because you had a bad day."

"You're so whipped."

"I may be whipped, but I am still alive."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Dunno. Sounded better in my head."

"Are you making a crack at my ability to keep a man? Because if so, then you're totally right."

"And that is how I sleep at night."

"You're such a something, I'm just not sure what."

"We're really on top of our games tonight, aren't we?"

"The banter is a great comfort even when my brain seems to have melted and run out my ears."

"Insert snarky comment here."

"A snort and snappy comeback."

"A comment about your lack of height."

"A demand to shut your mouth you jerk in more colorful language."

"A fake expression of being verbally wounded, coupled with an apologetic guilt trip."

"An eyeroll and nothing else."

"Scully, we have the best conversations."

She chuckled as he handed her the bowl of reheated macaroni and sat down next to her.

"Yeah, I am pretty sure no one else would get it."

"I think it's safer that way."

"Very possible."

They sat in silence for a while as a cheesy 80's movie played on the TV. It was warm and comforting just to be together, with no expectations or stresses directing their actions. He slid his arm around her shoulders and she put her empty bowl on the coffee table before leaning into him. His other arm settled around her waist and her fingers ran across his arm slowly, both of them gently soothing the other.

"Feel better?" he murmured, his lips grazing her ear.

"I hate the way they talk about you," she answered softly. "They ignore everything you have done, all the good things and they focus on the amount of money you spend or the simple fact that your office is in the basement. And I'm proud of you and I say that, and they practically laugh at me. I hate watching them tear you down."

"It's not your fight, Scully."

"Yes it is. Even if it had nothing to do with me, I would still take it as my own because you're my friend and I love you. I fight for you as much as you fight for me. Don't tell me to stop."

"Okay."

He gave her a little squeeze and kissed her hair while she yawned.

"Want some ice-cream?" he asked after a moment.

"Yes," she answered. He started to get up, but she kept her hands clamped around his arm.

"What?"

"Thank you."

"Right back at you."

Their eyes locked for a long minute before he swooped down and kissed her forehead. They hadn't needed words in a very long time, and he didn't want to spoil the moment with them now. A smiled graced her features when he pulled back and he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before moving to the kitchen. Words or not, she was the only one he would ever need.