Title: Sunflower seeds and coffee

Author: Sist3r Spo0ky

Rating: K+

Summary: MSR Fluff. From Scully's POV. Maybe Friday nights didn't have to be so lonely.

Disclaimer: Not mine!

Thank God it's Friday.

It's a ridiculous cliche. What's so great about Fridays? Sitting around at home, drinking cheap wine and watching mindless television with a frozen dinner heating in the microwave. Once in a while getting a call from Mulder, and then going off on some x-file. Most the time, Fridays are just depressing and lonely.

I'd polished off a bottle of wine in an hour. This week had been especially tiring. I barely even realised how much I'd drunken until I stood up. It felt so good, the room did spin a little, but other than that I just felt really, really relaxed. I had a sudden impulse to go visit Mulder.

I nibbled at a piece of bread, and drank a couple of glasses of water before I left. I was fairly tipsy, but I still knew not to make the drive to Mulder's while the room was still spinning.

When I felt a little more in control, I found my car keys.

--

I knocked on the door, and tried the handle. The door opened. Oh God, please, please don't have some other girl there. I begged as I quietly tip toed into the lounge. I looked down at the couch, and opened my mouth to say something. In a quick movement Mulder was standing, his gun pointed at my face. I just left my mouth hanging open, and he dropped his gun to his side.

"My God, Scully! I didn't know..." He put his gun on the table. "Sorry." He touched my shoulder. "Are you okay?" He looked down at the time on the clock, right next to his gun; so I looked at it too. I realised it was three in the morning. Oops. "Are you okay?" He repeated.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine." I was a little shaken. Though I should be used to having guns pointed at my face. For some reason in the dim lighting, and without knowing if it was Mulder or not pointing the gun at me... I was really quite scared. I quickly sat down on his couch, hiding that my legs were trembling. He sat next to me, and turned the TV off mute. "Were you sleeping?" I asked.

"I couldn't sleep, I was just... Lost in my thoughts. Why are you sitting so far away?"

Because if I sit any closer I'm afraid you might be able to read my expression. Then you might know how much I need you right now... Not in a sexual way, I just need you to be near me. I don't want you to think I'm weak, or needy.

He patted the spot next to him, and I automatically wiggled closer to him.

"So why aren't you sleeping?" He asked me. I felt so aware of his arm sitting on the back of the couch. I could smell him. He smelled of sunflower seeds and coffee. I wanted to bury my head into his chest. I almost forgot to reply to him.

"I, er... Yeah I was thinking... Too." His smell, it was becoming so overwhelming. I wondered what he would taste like. What if I were to just kiss him? What would he do if I did that? It wouldn't have been the first time. But maybe he didn't want me too anymore, maybe the others times were just... Flukes. I shivered involuntarily.

"Are you cold?" He asked, his arm on the back of the couch slipped around my shoulders and he gently pulled me closer. As a friend, AS A FRIEND! I told myself.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe I just didn't have much control, but I found myself snuggling into him. My face pressed against him. Instead of stiffening as I expected him to, he relaxed and kissed the top of my head. "Do you want to talk about it?" I knew he wanted to know why I was upset.

"I hate Fridays," I said softly, and he chuckled.

"There's always a first," he said, brushing a piece of my hair off my face, and kissing my forehead. Oh God, I was in heaven.

"For what?" I asked feeling my body warm as he touched my face again.

"Normally people like Fridays. It's the first time I've ever heard someone say they hate Fridays."

"Do you like Fridays?" I asked, wondering if I had interupted him. Maybe he didn't want me here... Oh who was I kidding? He had initiated it. He had pulled me closer, he hadn't sent me away! A smiled into his chest, and took in his scent, he smelled even better than I thought.

"I hate Fridays."

The End.