Title: numero dieci Jersey
Author: sitarra
Rating: K
Spoilers: season 7's Theef
Summary: "Is that my jersey I haven't been able to find since last year?" MSR
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
A/N: This is my first X-Files piece but far from my first story. Since I'm definitely hoping there will be more X-files stories in my future, I'm going to put all titles in Italian. This title means number ten jersey.
Dedication: This goes to Dana for helping me by assuring me this story is up to XF standards. Thank you so much!
Blue and white fabric. Stripes horizontally down the front and back. Long sleeves. Numbers on the front and on the back as well as a name. There were the smallest slits on both sides where it hung at mid thigh. And it was comfortable as hell.
The New York Yankee's jersey was the most comfortable piece of clothing Dana Scully owned. Well, not so much owned as borrowed. And not so much borrowed as the real owner didn't quite know she had it still.
Scully slipped the jersey over her semi naked body, not caring that her body was still slightly moist from her bath. Her hand started for the clip that held her hair up but thought better of it. She'd always liked her up like that.
She didn't bother to put on the blue cotton drawstring pajama bottoms she brought with her. She felt lazy right now.
She admired her appearance for a moment in the large bathroom mirror. Yep, she was in love with a T-shirt.
She left the bathroom with a smile, enjoying how comfortable she felt. After making sure the hotel door was locked, she settled in bed with the book she always brought on cases for the plane ride.
She opened it to her marked place but the words were lost on her. Her mind was elsewhere. She was still remembering what had happened that night at the cabin. It still scared her; to go from having eyesight to fearing for her life had happened all too quickly.
When Mulder had held up the poppet, the indentations still there, she stared in disbelief. How could something like that hold that kind of power?
It had her thinking now. What would she do if she truly did lose one of her senses?
She already knew what it would be like if she lost her eyesight. She looked down at her hands; what if she lost her sense of touch? She ran her hand over the pages of the book, then the cover. Then she ran her hand over the fabric of her sleeve, smiling at the feel.
What if she lost her hearing? She closed her eyes and forced herself to listen to all the noises she drowned out everyday. Could she really go without hearing his voice everyday?
What about her taste or smell? No, she didn't think she could do it and she really didn't want to think about it.
She shook her head to dismiss her thoughts and returned to her book. Just as she had begun to comprehend the words, there was a knock at the door.
She glanced at the clock, for once not caring it was that late of an hour. She swung her legs out from under the covers and marked her place in her book, setting it on the bedside table. She glanced through the peephole before unlocking the door and removing the chain.
"Couldn't sleep?"
"Nah and I didn't feel like letting my mind settle down and think about the case," Mulder answered, stepping into her motel room. She let him, shutting the door behind him, locking it.
"I don't blame you."
"Is that my jersey I haven't been able to find since last year?" he pointed out, scratching his neck.
She looked down at her attire, realizing she hadn't bothered to put on her robe. Come to think of it, she hadn't even brought her robe. Her hands had immediately gone for the jersey that meant so much to her when packing for the trip. It always brought her comfort. Maybe that was why when she got home from a traumatic case, she went immediately for a long bath and the jersey.
She smiled sheepishly, lifting her head back up to look at him.
"Yes, actually it is. I don't suppose you'd like it back now."
"No, no, keep it. It looks better on you than it ever could on me." He eyed her up and down, not even trying to be subtle. She did look good.
It hung on her frame but not too much. It was actually quite snug in some places. The jersey was a bit old; honestly he had forgotten all about it. He'd immediately recognized it as his though by the snag on the shoulder. And the way it hung down to her thighs… that was a sight he would never want to burn out of his mind.
"So how are Doctor Wieder and his daughter?" Scully asked, moving past him to sit on the bed.
"Good, good. They are indefinitely selling the house. They might actually leave the state, they're so shaken up," Mulder filled her in, keeping his eyes elsewhere besides on the sight of her bare legs. "It understandable though."
She pulled the covers over her legs but just barely so. She got a high out of his reactions to her sometimes. She watched him fidget where he stood, his eyes staying on the green carpet.
"Mulder, you do know you're allowed to sit in bed with me don't you? I'd really appreciate the company."
He immediately began to protest. "Well, I just thought…"
He waved off the issue and somewhat reluctantly joined her on the king sized bed. He layed out next to her, a pillow under his head and his hands resting on his stomach. He was just trying his hardest not to glance over at the amount of thigh she showed.
He'd been extremely tempted by her lately. Just the sight of her some days made him mad with lust. No, not lust. Love. Those were the days their innuendos were at their most frequent.
He'd been in love with her for quite some time. It was becoming hell trying to fight it. He was dying to tell her but how would she receive it? Would she be nonchalant about it or would she think he meant it as a friend? Maybe him seeing her in his jersey was a good sign.
"So how are you? You feeling better?" he asked her, tilting his head upward to look at her. She was slouched down against the head board and pillows. She looked adorable.
"Yeah," she nodded. "I'm still trying to forget about it. It's best if I do."
"Why?"
"Honestly? It scares me that something like that caused me to lose my eyesight. You have no idea how scared I was, Mulder."
"I can imagine."
"I had no idea what had happened and then all of a sudden, I could see again. I didn't have time to process it; I had to protect the doctor."
He lifted a hand to find one of hers. She gladly granted him his wish, lacing their fingers tightly together. He squeezed her hand tightly, reminding her he was there to comfort her. The simple act alone was enough to give her semi-pleasant dreams. She still had nightmares on a weekly basis but not as often as he did. His were far worse, too. More than once she had barged into his room in the middle of the night to calm him from his demons. Maybe that was when she first started to love him.
She'd never admit it to him but she loved taking care of him. Just the fact that he let her (most of the time) showed just how much he trusted her. She was still working on letting him take care of her in her times of need but she still trusted him with her life. She loved him with her life.
"You know, the way I see it, it's somewhat of a good thing all of it happened so fast. Sure, it causes mass panic but it doesn't give you time to process it. And with what we see everyday, you don't need to process it." He tilted his head to look at her again. "Know what I mean?"
Scully laughed gently at his words. No wonder she always wanted to be around him every time something horrible happened. He was the best medication for her.
"Oddly I do. And what's even stranger is that I agree with you."
Mulder sat up suddenly, leaning on his elbow, his hand never leaving hers.
"Did I suddenly go deaf or did you just agree with me?" he teased, smiling over at her. She squeezed his hand and settled further under the covers.
"Your ears don't deceive you. But don't get used to it."
He chuckled and scooted up closer to the head of the bed. He settled into the mattress like she was. He kept her hand firmly in his while helping her lay all the way under the covers.
He knew how difficult it was for her to get comfortable in motel room. The strange room, the even stranger stories some of them told, and the bed sheets you never knew what happened on—she hated all of it but she dealt with it. She always needed something comforting to help her.
Maybe that was why she had his shirt.
"So tell me the story behind the jersey."
She looked into his eyes. "I was wondering when you were going to get around to that."
"I thought I'd wait a while. Let the suspense build," he stalled for her.
But apparently she didn't need it.
"Remember the Padget case? Well, I was covered in blood and I didn't want to left alone. That was also the only time I didn't have my overnight bag in my car."
How could he ever forget the Padget case? Seeing her lying on his apartment floor covered in blood still woke him up at night. He thought he'd lost her before he ever had the chance to tell her how he felt.
"Well, you gave me your jersey to wear. I obviously never got around to giving it back." Now she hesitated. He could tell by her expression that she was embarrassed now.
"It's comfortable and comforting knowing that it's yours." She sounded embarrassed too.
"Hey, there's no need to be embarrassed," he assured, brushing a piece of hair back from her face. "Like I said, it looks better on you than it ever could on me."
She blushed at his words, shying her eyes away.
"Well, just so you know, you can keep the shirt. Not because just because you've worn it, I wouldn't want it. But because… you know."
She smiled brightly, the kind she reserved just for him. The kind that made his heart flutter.
"Well thank you. That's very kind of you."
He gave a deep chuckle she swore she could feel through their connected hands. She'd always loved his hands. They were so big and manly but surprisingly gentle. They always held to her so firmly yet so softly.
She had just fallen into her own world of thought when the feel of his fingers moving against hers made her focus go straight back to him. Not that it really would have gone anywhere else.
Her eyes were captivated by the sight of his fingers playing with hers. It was almost as if they were making love. 'If only the rest of our bodies could be doing that too,' she thought with a shadow of a smile on her lips.
He saw it but he also noticed how tired she looked, how afraid she still was. He always knew he'd have to make the first move. He just never thought it would be this.
"Hey Scully," he brought her attention to his face, "you're tired. Why don't you get some sleep and if you don't mind, I'll stay here so I don't get bored."
She smiled but didn't laugh like he thought she would. She must be more tired than he thought.
"That sounds good." Now he knew she was really tired.
She rolled over while he got settled under the covers. She had just turned off the bedside lamp when she felt one arm wrap around her waist.
"You don't mind, do you? 'Cause if it makes you uncomfortable, just tell me and I'll move to the other side," Mulder rambled on.
"I don't mind, Mulder," she reassured. She felt him relax, his arm moving tighter around her. She could feel herself relax as well. "Just don't get used to it."
"I could definitely get used to this," she heard him mutter.
She felt herself relaxing, calmed by the gentle sound of Mulder breathing close to her ear, and actually allowed herself to close her eyes. Just as she was about to succumb to sleep and Mulder induced dreams, she heard his voice.
"The only way that shirt would look better is if it was on the bedroom floor."
She groaned into the pillow.
"See I know you would ruin it," she complained. The only response she received was an apology laced with restrained laughter.
Five minutes later found them deep asleep wrapped safely in each other's arms.
So what'd ya think? Reviews are most welcome!