A/N: This was written during the Write-In hosted by the incomparable @lepus-arcticus, and it is literally nothing but fluff and ridiculousness.
Their third week together, Mulder tosses something at her as she walks in the door. She ducks and barely catches it, shooting him a scowl when some coffee sloshes on her plaid blazer.
“What’s this?” Scully asks.
“I noticed you didn’t have one. I know you probably didn’t have use for one in sunny Califor-Nay-Yay, but for most of the climates we’ll be travelling to for our field work, especially in the Pacific Northwest and here on the East Coast, they’re going to come in handy.”
Scully finally glances down.
It’s a London Fog catalogue.
“What, you have something against them?”
“Not really, but they’re a little…Spy versus Spy, aren’t they? What, are we gonna get matching hats to go with them? Start talking like gangsters? ‘You’ll never catch me, Coppa?’” she says before biting off a smile.
“Nah, these are really nice. They’re weather resistant, they keep the chill off, and they’ll keep your suits nice and clean. They even come in size extra petite, or whatever you are. I checked.”
Scully thumbs through the catalogue, fretting. “Mulder, don’t you think an umbrella does most of those things just as efficiently? And I have thicker peacoats I can wear over my suits. I just don’t know that I’ll use it enough to justify the expense.”
Mulder takes a sip of his coffee, shrugging. “Just pick one out then and tell me which one you decide on. I got a guy back in the UK. He’ll ship it over to me. No import tax.”
She stares at him before flipping through the glossy pages again. She has to admit, some of them do have a certain appeal. Especially that camel-colored one.
“I just think that this whole aesthetic lends itself to some excessively grandiose concept of what a G-man should look like that you have built up in your head, Mulder,” Scully says, indignant that she’s actually considering this. “That dark trench you have, it’s like your cape and cowl. Maybe it’s more your thing than mine.”
“Then get a lighter one, Scully. I really think it’d be both functional and…becoming on you.”
“There’s a pick-up line I can sense coming that you should probably keep to yourself,” Scully murmurs, just loud enough for him to hear and smirk at.
She finally pauses on one page with an audible intake of breath. It’s beautiful. A lighter color, halfway between wheat and grey. The perfect neutral. Cinched waist, double-breasted, it even comes with a detachable hood.
“Hand it over, Scully,” Mulder smiles.
And she does.