Make it Better


Title: Make it Better
Author: ML

Rating: adults only due to subject matter and certain situations
Ep Reference: I’d say this occurs sometime late 3rd season, after certain eps which will become clear as the story unfolds.

Disclaimer: (to the tune of “Copacabana” – ) His name is Carter, he’s the creator, but that was several years ago when they used to have a show. Now I don’t own them, but he’s not playing, so please don’t sue me for having fun, I’m not hurting anyone.
Note: Happy belated birthday to Rachel. I DP’d when giving her greetings, and this is my penance. These are the elements you requested, but the story didn’t turn out the way I expected. I think M&S pulled rank on me. Hope you like it, all the same. I’ll list the elements at the end. No beta, because sometimes I like to live dangerously .

Synopsis: M&S fight. Then they make up. Sort of.

====

~Somewhere in New Hampshire~

“If we miss our flight,” Mulder said, “it will be his fault.”

“If you need to blame someone, you can blame me,” Scully said. “I’m the one who stopped to help him.” She kept her eyes focused on the road. “Though if you really want to blame anyone, you should blame yourself.”

“Me? Why? What did I do?”

“You scared him, Mulder. If you hadn’t come up on him so suddenly, he wouldn’t have run. And he wouldn’t have tripped on the curb and stubbed his toe.”

“I had no idea that I was so scary. All I did was come around the corner –”

“–at a dead run, Mulder. With your gun out. How else would an eight-year-old boy react to something like that?”

“I thought I heard a scream,” he explained for what felt like the hundredth time. “Considering everything that’s happened in the past few days, it was a normal reaction.”

They’d spent days in this little town, investigating something the Gunmen had put them onto. Absolutely checked out, they swore. “Manifestations out the wazzoo,” was how Frohike had put it, and both Langly and Byers had nodded solemnly.

He guessed what really came out of a wazzoo was swamp gas, after all. He’d be giving the boys a piece of his mind when they got back to civilization. At least it wasn’t as bad as the gas plant in Miller’s Grove. Neither he nor Scully was covered in dung, and that had to be a plus.

Not that there weren’t plenty of odd things going on in the little town. Nonetheless, they were ordinary odd things — the usual complement of town eccentrics, including folks who were either excited that something might be “happening” in their little town, or who resented the intrusion and were mulish and uncooperative.

“It’s okay, Mulder, I forgive you, and I’m sure that Derek does as well,” Scully said. “I really think there was a serious case of hero-worship starting up with him.”

“With you or with me?”

“With you, of course. Big, tall G-Man that you are.”

Scully was doing her best to cheer him up, but he wasn’t ready to be cheered yet. “A lot of good it does me. He’s the one who got your attention. It wasn’t even bleeding.”

“You should know from experience that stubbed toes hurt, Mulder, bleeding or not.”

He didn’t reply, just chewed his lip thoughtfully. Scully glanced over at him.

“You’re pouting.”

“Am not,” he replied automatically, unable to stop himself. Sometimes something in him made it difficult to agree with Scully on even the simplest things.

“You are too,” she said, “and you might as well admit it. You always do this when a case doesn’t pan out.”

“And you don’t?”

“No, I’m too busy trying to make you feel better,” she muttered, and she clapped her hand over her mouth, eyes wide.

Mulder smoothly pulled over to the side of the road and killed the engine. “Would you care to repeat that?” he asked calmly.

She shook her head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say it. It wasn’t very nice.”

“I don’t expect nice from you,” he said. “I expect the truth. So, out with it. What exactly did you mean by that remark?”

“I thought you were worried about missing our flight,” she hedged.

Mulder looked at his watch. “Even if we broke all the speed laws, we wouldn’t make it. And frankly, considering our track record, I don’t like the odds.” He settled back in the seat, arms folded. “And how long have you harboured this deep-seated resentment toward your partner? I’d venture to say, quite a while.”

Suddenly, she rounded on him. “Maybe I have, Mulder. Would it make any difference to you one way or the other? I don’t see you changing, just because I call you on it.”

“I just don’t see it, Scully. I always thought that misery loved company, and now I find that for you, once a case is over, it’s over. Period. You never give it another moment’s reflection.”

“That’s not fair. And it’s not what I said.”

“Is it wrong to feel disappointed that something doesn’t pan out?” he changed tack slightly. He was like a dog with a bone now; he wasn’t going to give this up until someone got his or her hand nipped. Or slapped. Or something.

“Of course not, Mulder, I –”

“But I’m forgetting that every case that goes nowhere is another notch in your belt, right? Something to report back to your superiors.” He made his finger a gun and blew the smoke from it. “Another one bites the dust,” he squealed in a very poor imitation of the song.

“You promised that you’d never bring that up again!” she hissed, anger rather than regret now sparking in her eyes.

“Crying foul, Agent Scully? Are you going to complain because I don’t fight fair?”

It got very quiet in the car. Also very cold.

“No,” she said, suddenly very calm, and then pursed her lips and turned away from him.

He shrugged and started the car again. “Whatever.”

Scully gave him the silent treatment all the way to the motel, and when she came back with the keys, he noticed that they were on opposite ends of the building.

Fine. He’d just go find his own dinner, and Scully could do what she liked.

In her own room, Scully fumed. Maybe saying what she did wasn’t the most well-considered remark in the world, no matter how often she’d thought it. But Mulder really hit below the belt with his rejoinder.

Maybe it was better this way. They haven’t been getting along all that well lately, and maybe it took a blow-up like this to clear the air.

Sure it did. She heard a car peeling out of the parking lot and looked out the window just in time to see Mulder driving away.

x-x-x

When his phone rang in the wee hours of the morning, Mulder was sure it was Scully, calling to apologize.

“Agent Mulder,” Skinner’s voice sounded unnaturally loud in his ear.

“Yeah — yes, Sir,” he mumbled.

“I understand you’re already in New Hampshire on another case.”

“Yes, we were on our way home but got, uh, delayed,” he said, rubbing his hand over his eyes. How did Skinner know this? Scully must have called him, of course.

“You shouldn’t be far from the town of Comity. You’ve been requested to investigate a string of occurrences there.”

“What kind of occurrences?”

“It’s my job to make assignments,” Skinner said. “It’s your job to figure them out.” The phone went dead.

Mulder stared at it sleepily for a few moments before heaving himself out of bed and heading for the shower. Scully was going to love this.

When Scully heard the banging on the door she was sure it was Mulder, come to apologize.

She was half right.

No one had any right to look as wide-awake as he did at such an ungodly hour of the morning. “Got a call from Skinner. They’re expecting us the next town over,” he said.

“What for?” she asked.

“Guess it’s our job to find out,” he said over his shoulder as he headed for the car.

x-x-x

~Two Days Later~

Now Leaving the Town of Comity, New Hampshire, the sign said.

She was never so glad to see the back of a town. She’d thought the case before this one was bad, but Comity was worse.

Neither of them spoke for several miles. Scully began to think that she had, in fact, taken the wrong road. No way in hell she was going to admit that to Mulder, however. Besides, the more miles they got away from Comity, the better she felt.

Mulder looked out his window at the moonlit landscape. Maybe he didn’t have the best sense of direction in the world, but in this instance, he was sure that Scully was taking them father away from civilization instead of toward it. But he wasn’t going to say anything, not one thing.

At last, Scully could see some lights up ahead. Civilization at last. A Holiday Inn, and if she wasn’t mistaken, an all-night restaurant. She glanced over at Mulder. He sat slumped in his seat, head against the window. Was that drool at the corner of his mouth?

Didn’t matter. She’d never say anything to him. She tapped him on the shoulder tentatively. “Mulder? Mulder, we’re here.”

“Hunh?” He said indistinctly. He turned toward her blearily and inertia carried him all the way to flop against her shoulder. He snored gently.

“Mulder.” She felt an inexplicable tenderness toward him. She flicked a finger gently against his cheek. “Wake up. Food. Lodging.”

“‘Kay,” he mumbled.

“Wait there,” she said, pushing him gently away from her shoulder. His eyes blinked a little at her as she got out of the car.

There was no trouble obtaining rooms, even at this late hour. She checked them in and when she got back to the car, Mulder was awake.

“I could get used to this sleeping in the car thing,” he grinned slightly. It was a tiny olive branch, maybe only one leaf, but it was a start.

Mulder noted that their rooms were side by side this time. He carried Scully’s bag for her, and waited while she opened her door and turned on the lights. Satisfied that all was as it should be, he went to his own door. He paused only long enough to put his bag down inside, then went to knock on Scully’s door.

“Want to grab a bite?” he asked when she answered.

Scully smiled and they walked across the parking lot together to the restaurant.

The restaurant was brightly lit, but almost empty this time of night — or, more properly, morning. Scully turned down the offer of coffee and asked for hot tea. Mulder decided to go for broke and asked for his iced.

While they waited for their orders, Mulder played with the sugar packets, not sure what to say to Scully. Things had been strained between them lately, to say the least. He could be a big man and admit that it was as much due to him as to Scully, but that didn’t make this any easier.

Across the table from him, Scully watched Mulder’s long fingers move packets around aimlessly. Aimless to her, anyway. She couldn’t always see the reason why he did things, but he usually seemed to have a reason. She just wasn’t sure it was always a good one.

Still, making cracks about his reaction to their cases was kind of a low blow. She didn’t have to comfort him; that was her decision. Maybe it was her indirect way of dealing with the frustration of some of their cases. Offering comfort was a twofold benefit, she’d always heard: it did both the comforter and the comforted good. And it wasn’t like he expected it. She noticed that he often made personal comments in a way that deflected the personal. As if when things got a little too intense, he had to defuse the situation somehow.

Interesting theory. She wondered if she’d ever have the guts to call him on *that*.

It might be fair to call him on it, but it would only have made things worse in recent days. She had the feeling that anything either of them had said or done in Comity would have come out wrong. As it was, they’d both said things better left unsaid and the whole situation had escalated from bad to worse.

She didn’t even want to think about Detective White.

They both looked up at the same time and said, “I’m sorry.”

They grinned at each other. “We couldn’t have timed that better if we’d tried,” Mulder said.

“No,” Scully agreed.

“We really know what buttons to push, don’t we?” he continued. “And I did my best to push them all the past couple of days.”

“You got some good ones in,” Scully said.

“So did you,” Mulder said. “You know what they say: you always hurt the one you love.”

Scully looked down at her steaming tea, but Mulder thought it was more than the hot beverage that made her face pink.

“Did I hurt you?” Scully asked softly after a moment. “I didn’t mean to, really.”

It took him moment to realize that she’d actually taken his bait. Did she realize what she’d just admitted? In a very non- direct, non-committal way that is. He couldn’t have done better himself. “Well, we could blame it all on the misalignment of the stars,” Mulder ventured.

Scully’s expression told him what she thought of that theory. “Or, we could really talk about what happened for a change,” she countered surprisingly.

“Now there’s a novel idea,” Mulder joked.

“Seriously, you know that we always just store these things away, but eventually they come out. And at the worst possible time,” Scully pointed out.

Mulder nodded, and took a long drink of his iced tea. He wasn’t sure this was a good idea after all.

“I *do* care about how our cases turn out,” Scully said. “But I also care about my partner. And sometimes you’re so affected by the outcome, you can’t see the larger picture.”

“Which is?” Mulder asked.

“That the case is generally solved, even if not in the way you thought it would be.”

“I think we’ve established that sometimes that’s a matter of opinion,” he said.

“Or a matter of scientific fact over speculation,” she contradicted.

“Simply put: we agree to disagree,” Mulder said.

“Well, that’s how you see it,” Scully said.

“We’re still agreeing to disagree here, Scully. You’re not going to change your stance any more than I am. But I think it’s one of the things that makes us such a great team.”

“Just don’t think that I’m not as affected by the cases as you are,” said Scully. “Disagreeing doesn’t mean dismissing.”

“I know that. I do,” he said.

“We’re not going to change each other,” she said.

“No, but maybe sometimes we can meet each other halfway,” he suggested.

“Maybe,” she said with a smile.

x-x-x

How did they end up in Scully’s doorway kissing? He wasn’t exactly sure. One moment they were walking back from the restaurant, and the next moment he’d taken her key from her hand to open her door for her. Their hands brushed, she turned her face to his, and that was all it took.

Without letting go of each other, they stumbled into Scully’s room. Mulder managed to catch the edge of the door with one foot and push it closed, never removing his hands from under Scully’s coat. Her hands were busy at his tie, then his collar button.

This coming together had nothing to do with a misalignment of stars. This was meant to be. He’d known it from the moment she’d darkened his basement door, looking so forthright and sure of herself, and almost making him blow his cool right there on the spot. Two FBI geeks, striking sparks off each other from the moment they laid eyes on each other. A match made in heaven.

He’d thought about this in the past, more than once. What he’d say to Scully, what she’d say to him. How he’d reveal her body, layer by layer, savoring each small revelation as it came. Hell, he’d even fantasized about what kind of underwear she’d be wearing. Often, they were the same plain cotton that she wore the night she dropped her robe in front of him. Funny how she was more comfortable revealing her skin than her feelings.

But his mind was wandering when he really wanted to be concentrating on what was happening right now. Things were moving way too fast to suit him; Scully seemed almost as crazed as he did.

Scully wasn’t sure what had gotten into her, but she didn’t want to stop. She was sure if she said anything, opened her mouth for anything other than kissing Mulder, the whole thing would fall into ruins. Therefore, she did her best to keep her mouth occupied with Mulder.

Her fingers, usually so precise and careful, fumbled at unfamiliar buttons and fabrics. Mulder caught at her hands, replacing them with his own to unfasten his shirt and then his belt. She moved her hands to his head, pulling him down to kiss again, then putting her fingers against his mouth, afraid he’d speak and ruin everything. His lips closed around her fingers and he drew them into his mouth, sucking them gently, and her knees nearly buckled.

Mulder had been slowly backing her toward the bed — or had she been leading him? — and now her calves felt the mattress behind her. She sank gratefully down on it and Mulder followed, gracefully landing next to her without ever losing the grip he had on her. He was just as intent on undressing her as she had been on undressing him moments before.

She closed her eyes and gave herself over to the sensation of Mulder touching her. She felt the warmth of his fingertips through the fabric of her blouse as he unbuttoned it, then the slightly rough drag of them over her exposed skin, outlining the edge of her bra but not going beyond it. Her feet were flat on the floor, and she thought hysterically of the nuns’ admonitions in high school about making out with boys. Her feet were flat on the floor, sure, but she was still flat on her back. Mulder reached around to unfasten her skirt and she arched her hips up off the bed to make it easier. He yanked the skirt down and then returned to roll her pantyhose off, along with her underwear, in one smooth motion. He stood up long enough to shuck off the rest of his clothes. Scully scrambled backward on the bed, never taking her eyes off Mulder as he straightened up and she saw him fully (and healthily) naked for the first time.

He grinned self-deprecatingly as he noted her expression, but said nothing. He enjoyed his own view of Scully, now scrambling backward on the bed — not to get away from him, but to pull the scratchy spread down. She was still wearing her bra and he was grateful she hadn’t removed it on her own. He’d been saving it for last, a treat like whipped cream on chocolate pudding.

It was slightly chilly in the room, but not enough to account for the way she was trembling. She registered the increase of warmth as Mulder lay down beside her, but it did nothing to decrease her trembling, which seemed to have started somewhere in her solar plexus. She turned toward him to kiss him, raising one shaking hand to stroke his face. His arms came around her, caressing her skin. He lowered the straps of her bra one after the other, letting his palms and fingers glide over her skin and around the outside swells of her breasts. She could barely breathe, waiting for his next touch.

She felt one of his hands release the back clasp of her bra and then he was slowly sliding it down her arms. There was nothing left now between them. He took a moment to gaze upon what he’d just uncovered and then lowered his mouth to one nipple, bestowing a tiny kiss on its apex before closing his mouth over her and pulling.

Stars exploded behind her eyes and she had to close them against the sight of Mulder at her breast. Therefore she was taken by surprise when she felt his hand at the other, fingers brushing and kneading the sensitive point before trading hand for mouth.

She didn’t know what to do with her hands. She gripped the bedsheets, but little by little relaxed and raised her arms to touch him, brushing her hands through his hair, caressing his face. She felt cool air as his mouth left her breasts and traveled up to her lips, placing small kisses along the way.

Their mouths met again, and bodies moved incrementally closer to each other, a gravitational pull.

As much as he was reveling in this, he had to say something. He had to. He didn’t want to wake up and find that this was all just another fantasy borne of too many hours in the car with Scully. So far she seemed pretty pleased with the way things were going, but he had to be sure.

“Scully?” It was barely a whisper from him. He felt like he hadn’t spoken in centuries. She opened her eyes and turned toward him, a glazed expression on her face. Was it lust? Desire? A dream-state? He had to be sure.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked.

She closed her eyes and nodded, lips glistening from their last kiss. “Mm-hm,” she said, brushing her hand from his waist to his hip. Her mouth sought his. “Yeah,” she clarified.

“I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret later,” he persisted, hoping she wouldn’t take him up on his gallantry.

“No,” she said breathlessly, hands wandering restlessly up and down his sides. “Are *you* having regrets?”

“No, and I won’t, either,” he said between kisses. “Just checking.” He kissed her again, stroking her hair as his mouth caressed hers. “This isn’t considered ‘comforting your partner,’ is it?”

Scully froze and pulled away from him, turning her back to him.

He hadn’t been having any regrets, but he sure was now.

After a moment, he reached over and put his hand on her back. Her lovely, smooth, bare back.

Big regrets.

“Hey,” he said softly. “I didn’t mean it.”

She turned over and he could see tears glittering in the corners of her eyes. He’d rather she shot him. She sat up, gathering the sheet around her. “Maybe a small part of you does. Are you sure it’s not like what you said earlier? That there has to be some truth in it? Why else would you say it?”

“Stupidity,” he said. “Pure and simple. But I’m sure that you’re right. I’m sure that there’s a corner of my brain that’s screaming what a bad idea this is, and will do anything to put a stop to it. I’m sure that there’s a small part of you, I hope just a small one, that’s doing the same.”

“If that’s so, we’ve just had the mental equivalent of cold water thrown on us, wouldn’t you say?” she asked. “Maybe we should listen to that small voice.”

“Or not,” he said. “How do you know it’s your conscience? How do you know it’s not just fear?”

She considered his words for a moment. “It’s true that I’ve always been afraid that this might happen. That some day I’d just go off the deep end and have my way with you, like some crazed animal.”

Now I know that my favorite dream was Scully’s greatest fear, Mulder thought. He got up off the bed, hunted around for his boxers while Scully avoided looking at him.

An excruciating amount of time passed in silence as Mulder found his scattered clothing, avoiding touching or even looking at Scully’s, which made the chore even more difficult. When he had enough on to keep himself from freezing outside, he said heavily, “I guess this is where I say goodnight.”

Scully was still having a hard time looking at him, but she steeled herself to meet his eyes. “Goodnight, Mulder. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” he said. “More than I can say.” He turned toward the door, and turned back, determined to bring some lightness to the situation in his own way. “You’re not going to file a sexual harassment complaint against me, are you?”

Scully blushed and shook her head, letting her hair hide her face. “If anyone should file one, it should be you. I’m the one who instigated it.”

That gave him pause. “You did? I thought I did.”

“I kissed you first,” she said. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“Well, no harm done,” he said lightly. None that he’d let her see, anyway. “Try to get some rest.”

Scully was still speaking. “Besides, as annoyed as I get with you sometimes, and as you get with me, I know you’d never do anything to hurt me. Not really.”

“Absolutely,” he said automatically, edging toward the door before he did something unmanly.

“And I’d never do anything to hurt you. Because I do love you.”

His hand had been on the door, just about to turn the knob, when any power to move was stolen by her words.

“Would you care to repeat that?” he asked softly, his back still to her.

“Didn’t you hear me?” she asked, and he thought that maybe there was a hint of a smile in her voice.

“I have an eidetic memory,” he said, “but I don’t think I’ve ever claimed to have superhuman hearing.”

“I said,” she repeated softly but very clearly, “that I love you.”

He finally turned around. Scully sat with the sheet still wrapped around her, hair tousled and eyes bright. “Do you mean, love me like a friend, or…?”

“Why don’t you come over here and find out?” she said, and he really could see the smile on her face this time.

“Do you take back what you said?” he asked.

She looked confused. “Which time?”

“When you said you were afraid of me,” he said flatly.

“I never said that,” she said.

“I heard you,” he insisted.

“No, I said I was afraid of myself. You just weren’t listening.”

He waited to hear the words, “as usual,” but they didn’t come. He guessed he didn’t need to hear them.

“Guess I need to work on my listening skills,” he said with a small smile.

“I guess we both could,” Scully admitted. “Now, could you just shut up and come over here?”

He wiggled his eyebrows. “Are you coming on to me, Scully?”

She merely smiled her enigmatic smile, and once he’d joined her on the bed, there was no need to question anything else.

x-x-x

Daylight seeped in around the blackout curtains and outside in the world there were sounds of doors slamming and cars starting. Not so in Room 1013, where the only sound was soft breathing and the sound of a coffee maker wheezing its last drops of brew into the carafe.

Scully rolled over and opened one eye. “Mulder, what are you doing?”

“Makin’ coffee,” he replied, and brought a cup over to her. She looked even more adorably tousled than she had the night before, and he was very glad to be there to see it. He handed her a coffee and a kiss.

“Mm,” she said. “I know I’m not dreaming.”

“Why? Is the coffee bad?” he asked, settling in bed beside her. He’d been parading around in the altogether for Scully’s benefit, but it was cold out there.

“No. But I think if this was a fantasy, there’d be no morning breath,” she said.

“I’ll have you know I brushed my teeth,” he said defensively.

“Not talking about yours,” she said. Her answers tended to be short and to the point in the mornings.

He turned her head toward him and kissed her softly once, then again. “Hm, maybe it is a dream. I don’t detect any morning breath.”

“Maybe you’re biased,” she said.

“Maybe I just like the way you taste,” he said, pleased when she blushed.

She sipped at her coffee for a moment and then asked, “Where do we go from here, Mulder?”

“Barring another directive from Skinner, the nearest airport and then home, I think.”

She frowned. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“Yeah, I know. I was just trying to hold it off for a few more minutes. We’ve never woken up together like this, and I want to savor it.” He took the coffee cup out of her hands and kissed her very thoroughly, easing them both down on the bed. “Is it too soon to ask if you like morning sex?” he whispered in her ear. She shivered, which he took as a good sign.

“I don’t think I can go back to the way we were before last night,” she said. “But I don’t know how we’re going to handle it.”

“I think we’ll do okay,” he said. “I think you said it best last night. Even when we disagree, we can usually find a way to work things out.”

“But this is different, isn’t it? I don’t want us to work out our frustrations in bed. We are never going to totally agree with each other, and this puts another level of complication into our relationship.” Scully flopped on her back and stared at the ceiling.

“Are you saying you don’t want this? That we need to go back to partners and nothing more? Can you?” Mulder did his best to keep an even tone.

Silence as Scully thought things over. Mulder could see the gears turning in her head, and could only hope that the outcome would be in his favor. Not that he’d give up easily; he’d been patient so far, and he could be patient again. He hoped he could be, anyway.

“I don’t think so, Mulder,” her reply came finally, and his heart almost stopped.

“I think I need a little clarification on your position,” he said, barely daring to look at her.

“I don’t think I can go back,” she said, turning toward him again.

“That’s good to hear,” Mulder said, aware of just how big an understatement it was. “Especially since I just can’t seem to help myself around you.”

“What do you attribute that to?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” he replied. “Poor impulse control?”

“Very flattering, Mulder,” she said dryly, turning away.

“It’s all part of my big plan,” he said, turning her back to face him.

“You planned this?”

“Well, not this specifically. I’m talking about the larger scheme of things. I figure that neither of us can go very long without one pissing the other off — but I figure that the make-up sex will be spectacular.”

“You have a devious mind, Agent Mulder.”

“Indeed I do, and thanks for noticing,” he grinned, leaning down for another kiss. “And you didn’t answer my question: how do you feel about morning sex?”

“It depends,” she said, tracing a line down his chest.

“On what?” he said, capturing her fingers and kissing them.

“Whether it’s morning or not,” she replied.

“In that case,” he said, “Good morning, Sunshine.”

~the end~

Thanks for reading!

Additional notes

: Rachel suggested Mulder, a stubbed toe, and Scully making it all better. But once I started putting a few words down on the screen, the characters sort of took over. I hope you like the outcome all the same.