are you wearing space pants because your ass is out of this world
standalone; fluff; pg-13 for language; season one, after the first Tooms case; UST; Mulder receives a V-Day card and is immediately suspicious. Trust no one.
A.N.: I depressed the hell out of myself with that V-Day angst so here’s some early, early MSR fluff.
He stares at it like it’s going to explode on him, and he does this for a very long time.
You see, no one in the Bureau cares as much about their work as he does. And that means no one really arrives earlier than he does – and today, well, he arrives earlier than normal.
Somehow he still manages to be the butt of the joke, even at seven o’clock in the morning. He stares at the object some more, wishing for all the world he had laser vision so that he could obliterate the offending cardboard and send a final message to the FBI: fuck you, fuck you, fuck you.
And the worst part? The craftsmanship is remarkable. It even has – he pokes at it suspiciously – yes, it even has beads, and little googly eyes, and goddamnit it’s got those glow in the dark stars, the same ones he has up in a secret corner of his apartment, the ones Samantha would stick all over her door.
So someone has not only arrived to work ridiculously early (or ridiculously late, considering the time he left), but they put a bunch of effort into sticking it to good ol’ Spooky Mulder.
He opens up his little Valentine’s Day card quickly, snatching his hands away as if the thing could snap his fingers in two.
‘YOU’RE OUT OF THIS WORLD, VALENTINE,’ it reads. Good lord, it has glitter.
Here’s the thing. The little heart-eyed alien on the front is gray, not green, and he can’t think of any agent intelligent enough to make him feel that ridiculous. Agent Colton? Mulder had been so sure that asshole hadn’t even been listening. Christ. Skinner?
It infuriates him because look – he plays their game by their rules (most of the time), doesn’t show his face in the bullpen or go to any of their dumb parties. Valentine’s Day is especially off limits after that whole Fowley thing, where everyone talked he couldn’t fuck her right to hide the crazy –
He quickly slams the card shut and shoves it under a random textbook, grimacing when a whole slew of files cascade from his desk and scatters on the floor.
Scully, standing in the doorway with her gigantic shoulder pads and a plate full of pink-frosted cookies, jumps at the commotion and puts the cookies down to help him clear up the mess. When they stack all the folders back on the desk, they actually look a little neater than they did before. Huh.
She offers him cookies and they eat while discussing their next case, a college student in Dayton, Ohio who claims to have rushed in a sorority filled with actual witches. Mulder picks up a book – something on the history of witchcraft in the midwest – and in his excitement to be arguing with Scully, he’d completely forgotten about the card until it flutters to the desktop between them.
“Oh!” Scully’s eyes light up as she grabs it from him, shaking it a little so the beads clack together and the googly eyes wonk out. “You got my card.”
Mulder stares at her stupidly, for a long enough time to make it weird and her self-conscious.
“Missy helped me make it,” she shrugs, setting the card back down. She is so bad at faking nonchalant. “She’s very artistic.”
“I didn’t get one for you,” he blurts out. And then Scully’s the one eyeing him oddly.
“You didn’t have to, it was a spur of the moment…” she trails off, smiling widely as he takes the card back in his hand and traces the stars with his fingertips. “Let’s turn the lights off to see them glow.”
She gets up to flick the switch and turns around to find him leaning back in his chair, his tiny grin just barely illuminated by the glowing green of the stickers.