Getting Out of the Basement
by She's a Star
Disclaimer: X-Files is Chris Carter's. If it was mine, I'd like to think I would actually be able to afford all of the DVD sets.
Author's Note: Just a rather pointless overgrown drabble that I wrote a few days ago, because one must feed their obsession somehow. :-) Set during late season 6.
"Get your coat, Scully," Mulder instructed, effectively shattering the silence that had allowed my attention to fixate somewhat steadfastly on my work – our work, technically – for the past half hour or so.
"What?" I asked, tearing my gaze away from the laptop screen to see him grinning down at me.
"All work and no play makes Dana a dull girl," he proclaimed, oh-so-surprisingly not bothering to take any innuendo out of that particular statement. I fixed him with the most skeptical look I could manage in retaliation.
Utterly ineffective.
"Come on," he ordered, and placed his hands on my shoulders. The report suddenly seemed much less interesting. "I'm taking you out for ice cream."
"Ice cream, Mulder?"
"That's right, Scully," he responded smoothly. "And don't even think about giving me any of that non-fat tofutti rice dreamsicle crap."
"It hadn't crossed my mind," I answered wryly. "How about that 'this report is supposed to be on Skinner's desk first thing in the morning' crap?"
He seemed to contemplate this for a moment before responding. "Nope. Not gonna cut it."
"I didn't think so," I muttered, pointedly ignoring the triumph in his eyes as I stood up and he handed me my coat.
"The way I see it, Scully," Mulder said as we stepped outside, his tone suggesting that he was about to share something life-shatteringly profound, "A girl has to get out of the basement occasionally."
"Is that right?" I inquired, not bothering to hold back an indulgent smile.
"You sound surprised."
"Well, look who's talking," I said, and nudged him.
"Ah," Mulder said, feigning defeat as he slung an arm around my shoulders. "Touché."
An elderly woman passed us, a knowing smile lighting up her features as she took us in. I knew what she was thinking. It wasn't like we'd never gotten those looks before. People tended to make assumptions; it was an incontrovertible fact of life.
What was surprising, I realized as Mulder leaned toward me and murmured "Check that out, Mrs. Spooky," was that somewhere along the line, I had stopped minding.