#the x-files connection
msr | s7 | words: 670
The air is cold. It’s freaking April and Spring is here, but the air is cold because he can’t get Scully to see his way.
Sure, the case is silly, Mulder admits. A woman in Pennsylvania claims to have fostered cubs of mythical creatures she found in the woods behind her house, and two days ago, all the cubs vanished without a trace. Woman claims them to be griffins, which she believes will fetch a handsome price at the black market for exotic animals.
Of course, Scully doesn’t believe in griffins. Mulder isn’t sure he does, either. He’s requested to see some photos, but the woman says she’ll only show the many evidence she possesses in person.
Scully vetoes the case. Maybe she’s a avoiding a visit to the City of Brotherly Love, though to be exact, Mrs. Silverstone lives on the outskirt of Philadelphia. Or maybe Scully just doesn’t care about recovering missing cubs, pets or not. Or maybe she is worried that this will be a repeat of that case in Bellflower, California, which he was so easily lured out by an internet acquaintance. But in Mulder’s defense, that was a legit case, just like this one has the potential to be.
Plus, Mulder’s quite sure that Mrs. Silverstone is a grandma and married. But bring that up certainly doesn’t put away Scully’s reluctance of taking on the case.
“This isn’t a joke!” He wiles. “I think it’s worth a trip, Baby.”
Scully’s expression freezes in the air.
“Scully? Honey?”
Stunned, she looks like her brain has shut down.
“Hey—”
She cuts him off mid-sentence: “We’re talking about work, Mulder, you can’t be calling me babyorhoney.”
“Scully!” His amazement and amusement are both present in his reply. “I’m talking to you. And you never minded those when I called you before.”
“Yes, but context, Mulder! Where we are and what we are doing make a world of difference. We’re talking about work now, and you can’t spring on your babysandhoneys whenever you run out of things to say to convince me otherwise.”
“Oh trust me, Scully, I haven’t ran out of things to say about that, but seriously, I can’t use terms of endearments with you outside of… the bedrooms? That’s ridiculous!”
“Oh?”
Mulder’s never seen her eyes so big.
“I’ve always done that, Scully.” He argues. “You just don’t know.”
“What do you mean you’ve always done that? This is the first time you call me by one of thosewhile discussing work!”
“Oh, that’s what you hear. I call you cute nicknames in my head all the time. Baby, honey, sugar, sweet potato, munchkins, pumpkin, honeybunny, my cabbage, boo-boo, sweetie pie, baby cat, the list goes on and on.”
“You’re lying.”
“Try me, liebling.”
“How do you know so many?” She asks with an air of suspicion.
“A lot of them were what my Bubbe called me. The rest just came to me.”
“What’s your favorite one?”
“Scully.”
“No, Mulder, what’s the favorite term of endearment you imagined using on me?” Her smile makes him swoon. The smile of the girl-next-door, shy yet friendly. Confident only because she feels comfortable in your presence. He’s so grateful to see this smile; at times like this Mulder wishes he has a God to thank for small wonders like this.
“It’sScully. That’s my favorite term of endearment.” He confesses. “Do you remember what we were fighting about, Dana Banana?”
Her eyebrows perk up at that term. And Mulder knows she remembers, but he also knows that his Dana Banana will play dumb for his sake.
“Nope. You threw me off by calling me Baby in the heat of the argument.”
“So…baby is off the table?”
Another time when Mulder wishes he were a religious man, so that he could actually call someone when he prays.
“No.”
“Come here, munchkins.”
“That one’s off the table.” She settles in his arms.
“Yes, Dear.”
“That one’s off the table, too.”
She quickly kisses him so he doesn’t have to keep trying.
Tagging@today-in-fic, thank you.
