I'm Not in Love

By Crowdreamer

Setting: Season 4

Description: AU, MSR, explicit sexual content. Based on the episode Small Potatoes. Mulder has a crush on Scully after her near-kiss with "fake Mulder". I always thought it would be awkward for them after that happened, and wanted to explore what might happen because of the incident.

"You're not a loser, Mulder."

"Yeah…but I'm no Eddie Van Blundht either."

'Cuz if I was,' he thought, 'I'd have figured out that I could have you by now.' They walked in silence, side by side, both of them embarrassed by the events that had taken place: Mulder breaking into Scully's apartment, only to find Eddie, a.k.a. Mulder, close to scoring with her in all her inebriated giddiness.

Scully had not spoken of the events of that night with him, leaving him to wonder, 'What was it he said? What actions did he take that were different from my usual friendly banter with her, that led to such a stark change of outcomes? How on Earth did this roly-poly of a man do something that I've never been able to do, despite all the nights we've spent in hotel rooms right next door to one another?'

Maybe he had taken her for granted, concluding in his subconscious that she would never want to get involved with him "that way" and ruin a perfectly good partnership. Maybe it was a valid concern, but Mulder did not care about that right now. He was enamored with the idea that Scully was really into him. He knew there was chemistry, of course. But all the little flirtations had always ended up in nothing but ambiguities. Now he knew that Scully really did want to take it to the next level, and he wanted to know how to do that.

The next day, he walked through the door with a jubilant, "Hi, Scully!"

But she seemed irritated about something. "Hey, Mulder."

Maybe the direct approach was best. "Scully, can we talk about…the other night? I mean…with you and…Van Blundht…at your…"

"Can we just drop it Mulder?"

The forthcoming tone of her statement stunned him. "Uh…sure."

"Thanks, I…I just don't want to talk about it right now."

"O-okay. Well then. I have a new case for us. There's a medium in New Jersey who claims to channel a spirit named Odunraf. She says she has been predicting major events throughout the last two decades."

"So what's so unusual about that, Mulder? People have been claiming to predict the future throughout history, including Edgar Cayce and Sylvia Brown, dating all the way back to Nostradamus, and even Biblical times."

"But nobody has ever been this accurate before. This woman's name is Claire Bonnie, and if the information I have on her is right, she has accurately predicted the first bombing of Serbia-down to the exact day, the genocide in Rwanda ten years before it happened—including the number of people who would die and who the perpetrators would be, and the winners of the last ten Kentucky Derbys. Needless to say, the woman is independently wealthy and has no need to boost her reputation for the purpose of financial gain."

"And what is your…our interest in her, Mulder?"

"She is predicting an alien apocalypse in 2012. I need to question her and get all the details, and then verify her past predictions. She could be a really important source of information, Scully. I'm going to see her right now—do you want to come with me?"

"No, that's okay. I need to get those budget reports to Skinner today."

"Sounds like a blast, Scully." She sighed. He wasn't winning any points…yet.

Mulder found the house of the medium, and was surprised at how down-to-earth it was in appearance. He didn't know what he had been expecting—a cheap white-washed building with a neon sign, perhaps. But it was just a regular two-story contemporary home with wood siding and a nature-like, welcoming feel to it. Claire, an attractive woman with dark hair and gypsy-blue eyes, welcomed him in warmly. As they were sitting down, the first thing she said to him was, "You want a reading." It was definitely not a question.

"Well…that's not exactly why I'm here."

"Oh, but you were hoping to sneak it into the conversation."

He paused. "Actually…"

"It's okay. I'll do one for free." She whipped out a deck of decorative cards and said, "You're wondering about a love interest."

"It's not exactly a love relationship, I mean…"

"But you want it to be." She smiled knowingly as she laid out the cards. She touched a card with a picture of a seated queen holding a sword. "This woman is fiercely independent."

"I'll say."

The next card she looked at portrayed an overflowing chalice resting on a God-like hand, with a dove holding a cross above it. "Oh and she is totally into you."

"Yeah?" Mulder said, surprised.

"She sees you as a source of safety, and relies on you for support and companionship. But…" she said, pointing to a card with a picture of a knight on horseback brandishing a stick. "You are an intense person, who believes in the fight against dark forces. Your causes are legitimate, but you can be bossy whilst pursuing your goals, and your intensity is exhausting at times."

"So…chill out?"

She looked up at him. "Pretty much."

The next card showed a man standing between two tall staffs with a globe-like object in his hands. To Mulder, he looked like he was contemplating worldly problems. "Plus, you are conflicted about your relationship with her. Part of you wants to jump in head-first, and the other part is putting on the brakes. You need to decide…" She left it at that.

"But if you want anything to happen, you have to take the first steps towards your goal, and you need to act now. And if you do," she said, smiling now, "your relationship will develop into a partnership of even deeper affinity and mutual understanding. It will be a union of soulmates." The card she was looking at now depicted a man and a woman facing each other, each holding a chalice. The man's hand was reaching towards her, and a winged lion perched over them, protecting them. Mulder was astonished by the way this card resonated with him on some deeper level.

Claire hastily shuffled the cards. "Okay, now that we have that out of the way, can we please talk about the subject that you were supposed to be here for?"

"Sure…of course." But he hardly heard another word she said after that. He forced himself to focus enough to ask some questions, and then he took the paperwork she handed him and left. She stopped him at the door to say, "When you come off cloud nine, call me and we can have a real discussion about the impending invasion."

"No problem. Thanks for the reading," he said, and stumbled off in a love-sick stupor.

Mulder tingled with excitement when he got back to the office. He tried to keep his face from noticeably lighting up when he saw Scully. "So how was the meeting with the medium?" she asked.

"Fine. It was…fine." Was he smiling? He better wipe that smile off before she asked him about it and he had to come up with a plausible explanation.

"So….what miraculous revelations did she make, Mulder?"

He hesitated, trying to remember one thing Claire had told him that was not related to Scully. "Um…not much really. It was all kind of vague. I have all the material right here," he said, flashing the stack of papers in his hand. "Maybe we could go over it together tomorrow."

She groaned like a schoolgirl being asked to clean out the garage. "I don't know, Mulder, I might have more receipts to go over." Then she smiled. "I'm not sure which sounds better right now."

He ignored the comments and focused on the smile. And tried not to allow his own to linger too long. "Don't sound so excited Scully."

Mulder got very little in the way of sleep that night. He was too busy dreaming of the great realm of desirable futures that were possible. And her face. Had he ever noticed the way the light caused a sparkle in her green eyes before? He secretly wished the phone would ring, whether it was a confession of her undying love or just a rogue question about a case.

The next day, he primped himself in a way he had not done since high school. He thought about wearing cologne, but knew she would notice, which might cause an uncomfortable moment between them.

In the office, she brought up the Claire Bonnie file before he had a chance to mention it. He saw that as a good sign. He laid it in front of her, and when she was leaning over to look at a document more closely, he leaned in and pointed at a picture so that his arm was right next to hers. She acted as if she didn't notice, of course.

There were other opportunities for flirtation throughout the day, and Mulder took advantage of all of them. Scully took them in stride without acknowledgement. He was confused—was she enjoying this as much as him, or was she just so used to the close contact between them that she thought of this as the same as every other day? Claire had said to take steps to win her over…what else should he be doing?

The rest of the day went by uneventfully, and Mulder was disappointed when the end of the workday came without any more clarity about Scully's feelings about him. Maybe Claire was wrong. Surely she couldn't be one-hundred percent accurate, could she? She seemed to be right on with all her other predictions so far, though.

Mulder thought about inviting Scully over for dinner that night. It was a Thursday and they had work the next day, but it was still close enough to the weekend to be feasible. But he chickened out, and then kicked himself all the way home that he didn't follow through on his impulse. He spent another night dreaming about her shapely legs and plump lips.

Friday came, with more of the same—the object of his affection taunting him with her luscious Scully mannerisms and intelligent banter, intertwined with moments of near-contact and brief brushes of skin on skin. Mulder was going crazy.

It was the weekend. Perfect timing for a quiet night together. But despite his best efforts, Mulder could not get up the courage to ask her. He kicked himself over and over as she walked out the door with a simple, "Have a good weekend, Mulder."

On his way out of the office, Mulder noticed an object lying on the floor—a scrap of paper, perhaps. He bent over to pick it up. It was about the size of a large playing card. He turned it over to see an image on the face that sent tingles down his arm. It was the tarot card from Claire's house—the one with the man and woman facing each other.

How did this get here? Who put it on the floor just outside his office, and why? Was it Claire? It had to be—she was the only one who knew about it. But why would she drop it off in this way? Was it a signal to him?

Maybe it was meant to be a sign that he needed to be brave and move forward in a direct manner. But how could Claire have known that he hadn't already? He could drive himself crazy with all the unanswered questions, but he decided to stop ruminating on it and take the advice of the unseen sage.

He approached Scully's door that evening with apprehension, flowers in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. He stopped and turned to face her door, dropping his head and sighing. He raised his hand and knocked.

The seconds that went by next seemed like an eternity. Was he actually shaking? This felt too much like high school prom.

The door opened. "Mulder?" She stood there for a few seconds, and then stepped aside to let him in.

"I, uh…" he stammered.

"This all seems too familiar," she interrupted.

"What do you mean, Scully?"

"Nevermind. Come, sit down. I'll open that." She took the wine bottle from his hands. He set the flowers on the kitchen counter and sat down on the couch.

Mulder was in a rare, speechless mood. He wondered if this was how things played out when Eddie Van Blundht was sitting in this exact spot. If only he could have been a fly on the wall…

"So…" Scully handed him a glass half-filled with red tastiness and sat down next to him. He tried not to down the whole glass all in one fell swoop. The words were still not coming.

"So…"

They sat there in silence for a few moments. 'Topic starters,' he thought. 'Claire Bonnie. No- no work. The tarot reading—absolutely not. Let's see. Maybe steer the conversation to her?'

"So what have you been up to, Scully."

"Not much. Just reading a book."

"Anything I'd know?"

"I don't think so, no." Another pause. God, this was hard. Why was it so hard? They had known and worked with each other for four long years. "Mulder, do you ever…think about what if you had done things differently?"

Hmmm….did she mean…them? "Uh, well, no actually. I mean, I'm not sure I would want to work on anything but the X-files. Maybe the circumstances of my life could be different, like I wish my sister had never been abducted…"

"No, I'm not talking about just work, Mulder."

She was leaning in a little closer now, and it was so hard not to just lean over and…ah, what the hell?

He felt his head closing in towards hers, and she was not backing away. In fact, if anything, she was moving in closer to him. He tilted his head slightly and brought his lips to hers. The second they touched, there was a charge of electricity like lightning had come out of nowhere and honed in on these two souls alone. His hands wrapped themselves around her while their mouths sealed together in a tender kiss that made his whole body ache for more.

The kiss transformed into a more passionate affair, with lips and tongues probing like lungs grasping for air underwater. Scully's hands stroked his face while Mulder's stroked her…breasts? Was he really feeling her breasts?

He thought he ought not assume too much. He pulled his mouth away from hers long enough to whisper, "Scully, is this okay?"

She did not even open her eyes, her mouth seeking his once again. "Yes, God yes." They were both making little moaning sounds that intensified their longing. Mulder leaned her backwards with his body on top of her, and they pressed together, writhing in ecstasy. And then the clothes began to come off.

The couch was perfect-wide and flat, as if she had chosen just the right one for this very occasion. After he peeled off her panties, he groaned as she grabbed his manhood through his briefs, and she pulled them down so he could take the final plunge.

The phone rang. He was not sure if it was his or hers. "Ignore it Mulder."

He obeyed, and took his place on top of her once again, all the barriers removed this time. He entered her, still feeling somewhat hesitant, but he was not going to stop now. He wasn't sure if it was the fact that he hadn't gotten laid in so long or the fact that it was Scully underneath him, but he was pretty sure this was the most enjoyable experience of his entire life.

They moved in unison, her legs and feet gripping his ass like a vice. He couldn't get away if he wanted to. "Mulder…" she whispered. "Mmmmm…."

The sweat lubricated their chests, reminding him that she had beautiful curvy breasts at the ready. He grabbed one in his hand and felt her nipple harden, and she let out a satisfying howl. Her head tilted back and her mouth opened slightly in a state of pure bliss. He was determined to go the distance, so when he felt as if he could not hold back any longer, he stopped completely while his cock pulsed inside her. Ready to go a little longer, he began to rock her again.

Turned on by his near-climax, she began to let out a moan that increased in volume as she neared her peak. At the moment that she began to orgasm, he felt the folds of her insides grab him, which sent him into a simultaneous pinnacle of pleasure. He felt his juices flowing inside her and out of her, and there was something satisfying about knowing that he had left his mark in her.

They adjusted while they caught their breath, and settled in next to one another, with Scully leaning on him and resting her head on his chest. "Mulder?"

"Huh?"

"Why haven't we ever done this before?"

"I'm not sure, Scully." He guessed he was ready to have this talk now. He sat up. Scully followed suit, and rested against his naked body. She pulled a blanket up around her to allay a sudden chill. Mulder continued with his train of thought. "I guess…I just assumed that if the time was right, we would know."

She nodded. "Also, I think in the back of my mind I was afraid of screwing up a good thing, you know?"

"Yeah, I do," she said quietly. "But it seems like such a natural progression now. Ever since the incident with…Mr. Small Potatoes, I've been realizing that I…I have feelings for you Mulder."

She looked at him with trepidation, fearful of his reaction, perhaps. He smiled, and she relaxed. "I feel the same way, Scully."

"You mean…?"

He touched her face. "I love you Scully. I think I have for a long time."

A tear inadvertently rolled down her cheek. "I love you too, Mulder."

They could not resist any longer, and fell into a passionate kiss. Scully pulled back just enough to say softly, "Let's do it again." And any plans they had previously imagined flew out the window as a more intimate future took shape.

In the morning, Scully finally remembered to check her phone. After listening to a voice message, she said, "It was Claire Bonnie who called last night."

Mulder emerged from the bedroom wearing only his briefs. "Oh? Why is she calling you?"

"I don't know, Mulder. Maybe we should go find out."

They rode to her house holding hands, even though technically they were on the job. Nobody would have to know. When they arrived, Claire was expecting them.

Waving a hand towards Scully, she said first thing, "This is the one."

"How could you tell?" Mulder asked. "Was it the smile on my face?"

"I'm psychic, remember?"

Something fell out of Mulder's jacket pocket, and Scully stooped to pick it up. He didn't remember putting anything in his suit. "What's this?" Scully asked.

"Uh…oh, let me have that," he said, trying to snatch the item out of her hands. It was the tarot card that had been left for him at his office door—the one that had led to the joyous events of the night before.

She pulled it away before he could get his hands on it. "What is it?" she asked.

"Let me have it Scully. It's nothing." She examined it closely. He felt his cheeks turn bright red.

Examining it, she smiled. Pointing to it, she said, "What does this say on here?" She handed it back to him to show him writing that he had not seen before. Surely he would have noticed if there had been writing on it?

He scrutinized it, and before the meaning of the words could register in his brain, he realized that the handwriting was Scully's. Then the light bulb went on, and as he heard Scully laughing, he read the words again:

I Had You Big Time!