Collage by Erin - archived at E's X-Page

TITLE:  Conversation Hearts II:  The Dating Game
AUTHOR:  Lara Means
E-MAIL:  LaraMeansXF@aol.com 
CLASSIFICATION:  SR
RATING:  R
ARCHIVE:  Gossamer, NO; Spookys site, NO (I'll submit directly to 
both); Ephemeral, YES; anywhere else, YES, but if possible please 
let me know

SPOILERS:  Fire, Duane Barry/Ascension/3/One Breath, Tempus 
Fugit, Redux II, Biogenesis/The Sixth Extinction/Amor Fati, 
Millennium

SUMMARY:  Mulder and Scully's first date.

DATE POSTED TO ATXC:  02/24/00

FEEDBACK:  Hey, writers live for this stuff.  Constructive 
criticism is welcomed, on ATXC or at LaraMeansXF@aol.com

DISCLAIMER:  "The X-Files" is copyright Twentieth Century Fox 
Television and Ten Thirteen Productions.  The show, its premise 
and characters were created by Chris Carter and are used here 
without permission.  No copyright infringement is intended, no 
profit will be realized.  (I've also borrowed the name of a 
character from Carter's "Millennium" as a pseudonym.  Same 
disclaimer applies.)

AUTHOR'S NOTE:  I can never seem to write a fluffy little story 
-- that's how this started out, just a little ball of fluff 
about how Mulder and Scully might do Valentine's Day.  Now, 
well...

"Conversation Hearts" is a three-part series.  Part One, "My 
Funny Valentine" (rated PG), was posted on 2/20/00.  This one, 
"The Dating Game," is Part Two.  Part Three, "Always, Forever" 
(rated NC-17), will follow soon.  This is *not* a work-in-
progress -- it's just a story I've got completely written in my 
head but haven't had the time to put down on paper yet.

These stories are sort of a follow-up to my story "Nonessential 
Personnel."  It isn't necessary to have read that story to follow 
these; just know that Mulder and Scully spent a day back in 
January playing in the snow and making out. <g>

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

CONVERSATION HEARTS II:  THE DATING GAME

by Lara Means

FBI Headquarters
Office of Special Agent Fox Mulder
Friday, February 11, 2000
4:37 p.m.

The day passed uneventfully.  Only two more candy hearts turned 
up, one in my laptop case and another in a box of blank disks.  
One said "I Wonder," the other "I Hope."  I thought idly that he 
might've planted these that morning in anticipation of our date.  
Our date.  Mulder and I had a date.

I felt giddy, like a teenager -- the guy I like actually asked me 
out!  God.  I'm twenty years past that stage, I should be more 
mature about this... shouldn't I?  I mean, after all, it's just a 
date, it's just Mulder.

But that was the point.  It was *Mulder.*  My partner, my best 
friend, the man I... the man I love.  And we were finally, 
finally taking another baby step forward.

I glanced over at him.  He was leaning back in his chair, feet on 
the desk, suit coat off, sleeves rolled up, pencil in his mouth, 
apparently engrossed in the latest issue of "Weekly World News."  
I took the opportunity to study my partner, something I didn't 
get a chance to do often.  He usually caught me staring.

Mulder has no idea what a truly beautiful man he is.  He's grown 
into his looks over the years, become more handsome instead of 
merely attractive.  I took in his hands, strong and gentle, as 
capable of delivering a knock-out punch as a soft caress.  His 
arms, warm and comforting, always open.  His shoulders, broad and 
supportive, bearing the weight of the world, deservedly or not.  
His eyes, an impossible blend of green and gold and brown -- I 
could very easily lose myself in his eyes.  His mouth...  The 
pencil fell from it at just the right moment and I stared 
unashamed at his lips.  The upper one, slightly thin and 
perfectly bowed.  The lower one, plump and full, occasionally 
pouty when he wanted it to be.  His tongue darted out to moisten 
those lips and I inhaled sharply.

His eyes found mine.  "Scully?"

Damn.  Caught.

I blinked, stalling, trying to keep him from realizing that all 
coherent thought had fled my mind.  "Huh?"  Yeah, that'll work.

"Something wrong?"

"No -- um, I was just, uh -- wondering about tonight.  What time, 
where we're going...?"

He smiled, folded his newspaper.  "Eight o'clock, and it's a 
surprise."

"It can't be a surprise, Mulder, I need to know how to dress."

He pursed those lips, and I had to close my eyes for a second.  
"Up."  My eyes came open and an eyebrow arched.  "Dress *up*."

"How 'up'?  Formal, semi-formal, dressy casual...?"

"I don't know, Scully, just... nicer than regular work clothes."

"If you'd tell me where we're going, I could call."  He shook his 
head, and I sighed.  "Fine.  I think I need to shop."  I gathered 
up my things and left, tossing him an affectionate smile on my 
way out.  I was rewarded when he pursed those lips again and blew 
me a kiss.

Dana Scully's Apartment
Friday, February 11, 2000
7:49 p.m.

I knew exactly the dress I wanted to wear tonight.  It was a 
sapphire blue matte jersey, too lightweight really for February 
but I didn't care.  It was clingy and flowing at the same time, 
hugging at the waist and draping softly from my hips to my knees.  
The low neckline showed a little cleavage and dipped even lower 
in the back.

And I didn't even have to shop for it.

I found the dress just before Christmas, when I still harbored 
some hope that Mulder and I might have a 'normal' New Year's Eve.  
I should've known, of course, that 'normal' for us would involve 
hunting down the walking dead and forestalling the apocalypse in 
the process.  Oh well -- at least we were together at midnight 
and finally shared a kiss, even if it was in an emergency room.

So there I was, dressed to the nines and ten minutes early.  I 
paced, touched up my makeup, checked my hair, changed earrings at 
least three times... then finally there was a knock on the door.  
I opened it and -- oh my God.  Mulder.

Beautiful couldn't begin to describe him.  Elegant came close.

His silk blend suit was a dark gray, lighter than charcoal, and 
clearly from some famous designer -- Donna Karan maybe, or Prada.  
A snow white shirt, dove gray tie and black wool overcoat 
completed the picture.  The last time I saw him looking quite 
this impressive, he was wearing a tuxedo and kissing Phoebe 
Green.

The thing was, he was looking at me with the same awe-struck 
expression I'm sure I was wearing.

We stood there a moment, just staring open-mouthed at each other, 
then I recovered enough to ask him in.  That's when I saw the 
rose.  One perfect pink rose.

Damn, he's good.

"Scully, you..."  That was all he could get out.

I was at a similar loss for words.  "You, too."

I closed the door behind him and he held out the rose to me.  
"Happy Valentine's Day.  I know it's not until Monday, but..."  
He leaned in and kissed me softly.  I murmured a thank you and 
took the rose, moving into the kitchen to find a vase.

On my way from the kitchen, he caught my arm.  His fingers 
trailed down to turn my palm up, and he placed a small velvet box 
in my hand.  "Happy Valentine's Day."

"Mulder..."  We exchanged shy smiles, and I kissed him again.  "I 
want to save yours for later."

"You didn't have to..."

"Neither did you."

"Well, since I did, why don't you open it?"

I looked at the box again and raised an eyebrow in his direction.  
He gave me a nod and I lifted the hinged lid with a little 
trepidation -- I wasn't entirely certain that jewelry was 
appropriate at this stage in our relationship.  But Mulder 
delighted in pushing the envelope, so I opened the box.  What I 
saw took my breath away.

Earrings.  Pearls surrounded by amethysts.

"Mulder... they're..."  I looked up at him, at the uncertainty in 
those green-gold-brown eyes.  "They're beautiful, but... they're 
far too expensive, I can't..."  I closed the box, held it out to 
him.  He didn't take it.

"Now, Scully, it's bad form to question the cost of a gift."  He 
said that with a little grin, but there was something in his 
eyes, in his voice.  I'd hurt him -- I hadn't meant to, but I had 
done it just the same.  My heart ached at that.

Mulder took my hand, the one holding the box, and closed both of 
his over it.  "Consider it an early birthday present.  Amethyst 
is your birthstone, right?"  He knew it was, that's why he chose 
them.

I reached up and stroked his face, then covered his hands and 
smiled.  "I don't know, Mulder.  They can't quite compare with my 
Apollo 11 keychain."  He smiled a little at that, but I could 
tell he was still upset.  First the candy hearts at the office, 
now this -- he was trying to be sweet and sensitive and giving 
and loving, and all I did was rain on his parade.  I could be 
such an idiot sometimes.

I caressed his hands.  "Well, now I know why I couldn't decide 
which earrings to wear."  I tilted his chin up, made him look at 
me.  "Thank you, Mulder."  It was what I should've said in the 
first place.  He smiled, some of his hurt assuaged.  I kissed 
him, hoping to soothe away the rest of it, then went into the 
bedroom to put on Mulder's earrings.

Mistral Restaurant
Friday, February 11, 2000
8:26 p.m.

Mistral was the Flavor of the Month as far as D.C. restaurants 
went -- great reviews from all the food critics, packed every 
night of the week, a month-long waiting list for reservations -- 
so either Mulder planned *very* far ahead or he knew someone.

He'd been very quiet in the car.  That wasn't like him -- usually 
he shrugged off stuff like this, brushed it off with a joke.  For 
some reason it was different this time, and I knew I had to say 
something.  I had to apologize -- which wasn't like either of us.  
Our apologies were usually unspoken or implied.  Maybe that would 
have to change.  Maybe it should.

As the valet drove off, I took Mulder's hand.  "Mulder... I'm 
sorry."

"What for?"  His voice was soft, but he wouldn't look at me.  I 
stepped closer, touched his face.

"For hurting you."  He didn't say anything, so I went on.  
"Yesterday and tonight.  You did something -- *two* somethings -- 
incredibly sweet and generous, and I..."

He shook his head.  "No, you...  The thing at the office, you 
were right, it was too much, it could've caused... problems.  
And tonight..."

"I should've just said thank you."

"Scully, I saw them and I wanted you to have them, that's all.  I 
never wanted you to feel obligated..."

"What?"  I searched his face, not believing what I was hearing.  
"You thought I didn't want them so I wouldn't feel like I owed 
you anything at the end of the evening?"

The corners of his mouth twitched in a little grin.  "It sounds 
kinda silly when *you* say it."

"It *is* silly, Mulder.  I thought we knew each other better than 
that."

"We do -- we did, anyway.  I don't know anymore, Scully, things... 
things are changing between us."

"Mulder, we're still the same people.  No matter what happens.  
The only reason I hesitated about accepting the earrings was 
because I thought they were too expensive for a Valentine's Day 
gift."

"So I should've just said Happy Birthday instead?"

I smiled up at him.  "Thank you, Mulder.  They're beautiful."

He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, fingered the earring 
there.  "*You're* beautiful."  He leaned in and kissed me, then 
we went inside.

Mulder ordered a bottle of very good wine to accompany our meal 
-- chicken parmesan for him, fettucini alfredo for me.  We held 
hands most of the evening, lacing our fingers together.  We fed 
each other pasta, laughing when we missed and we got sauce on our 
faces.  We wiped away the errant food, licking each other's 
fingers clean.  We pulled each other close and kissed, softly 
gentle and deeply passionate.  It all felt incredibly sensual.  
Maybe it was just that we were behaving this way in public.  
Maybe it was just that it was Mulder.

Ruby's Bar
Friday, February 11, 2000
10:42 p.m.

As upscale as Mistral was, Ruby's was, well, downscale.  Not run-
down, but not fancy at all.  Mulder and I were definitely 
overdressed.  Ruby's was a neighborhood bar -- evidently, it was 
*Mulder's* neighborhood bar.  It wasn't exactly in his 
neighborhood, but it was obvious he was a regular from the moment 
we walked in the door.

"Foxy Mulder!  Where you been keepin' yourself, darlin'?"  That 
was Ruby, the owner -- a lithe black woman, shorter than me, her 
jet black hair shot through with steel gray.

I raised an eyebrow at the name she used.  Mulder just sighed and 
shook his head.  He leaned down to give Ruby a peck on the cheek 
and introduced us.

"What's your first name, honey?"  I told her, and she clucked at 
Mulder.  "Pretty name like Dana, and you call her Scully."

"Ruby, I've told you about that..."

"Uh-huh.  Come on, I've got your table all ready."

Mulder smiled and put his hand at the small of my back to guide 
me through the crowded bar.  On the way we passed the bartender 
and a couple of waitresses, all of whom greeted him as 'Foxy.'  I 
glanced back at him.  "Come here often... Foxy?"  He just sighed 
and shook his head again.

Ruby showed us to a table with a little 'reserved' sign on it, 
far enough from the bandstand so we could hear each other talk, 
but close enough to the dance floor to reach it easily.  And from 
what I could tell, both from the music and the way Mulder moved, 
we'd be dancing a lot.

The band was playing an eclectic mix of classic R&B, jazzy blues 
and funky dance tunes.  The female singer was tall and regal 
looking, with a rich voice I envied.  Her male counterpart also 
played guitar, with a technique that seemed to be a cross between 
B. B. King and Jimi Hendrix.  They were playing what sounded like 
the Gladys Knight arrangement of "I Heard it Through the 
Grapevine" as we came in -- Mulder's hands were immediately at my 
hips, willing me to move along with him.  We were on the dance 
floor before I knew what hit me.

We stayed on the dance floor almost constantly, holding each 
other close no matter the tempo of the song.  Mulder's an 
incredible dancer.  All his years of running, swimming, 
basketball, baseball -- his athletic grace translated beautifully 
to grace on the dance floor.  Ordinarily I'm a very self-
conscious dancer -- I've always thought myself too short to be 
all that graceful -- but with Mulder, I felt like Ginger Rogers, 
Cyd Charisse, Paula Abdul...  He held me close but not too tight, 
guided my steps expertly.

He also seemed to know the words to every song the band played -- 
he sang in my ear almost constantly, sometimes pulling away and 
singing directly to me when the words meant something to him.  It 
was endearing and romantic -- and I loved seeing him like this.  
He was exuberant, almost joyful.  It was worth every single candy 
heart strewn all through the office to see this side of him.

When the band took a break, I went off in search of the ladies 
room and stopped at the bar to talk to Ruby.  The FBI Agent in me 
took over as I asked questions, but she didn't hesitate to answer 
them.

I was surprised to learn that Mulder had been coming to Ruby's a 
few times a month for nearly ten years.

"He says he comes 'cause he likes the music.  I think he just 
likes someplace to call home."  I nodded -- that sounded like my 
Mulder -- then she continued.  "Well, there *have* been a couple 
times when we wouldn't see him for months at a time..."

I shrugged.  "We travel a lot."

Ruby shook her head.  "He always tells me when he's out of town 
on a case."  She paused a moment.  "The first time was about 
five, six years ago -- when you were missing."  I looked at her 
curiously.  She knew about that?  "After you were found he came 
back.  Spent just one night sitting here with me, drinking and 
crying, then everything was back to normal."

She paused again, then went on.  "Second time was when you were 
in the hospital with your cancer, when things looked really bad."  
I felt the blood draining from my face and I wondered just how 
much of my life this woman knew about.  "Same thing happened -- 
you got better and he came back, spent an evening drinking and 
crying, then..."  Ruby looked at me, at the stunned surprise on 
my face, and smiled gently.  "Don't worry, honey.  He never talks 
about you to anybody but me.  And I know how to keep my mouth 
shut."

"I never knew how all that affected him.  He never said..."

"I imagine you never said how what happened to him last year 
affected you, either."

"Yes, I did..."

"Dana, if you were a regular here like he is, you'd have come in 
one night after you knew for sure he was gonna be okay, you'd 
have sat right there, drinking and crying, then you'd have gone 
on like nothing ever happened.  Just like him."  She shook her 
head again.  "You have to be strong for him, like he has to be 
strong for you.  You're both so busy being strong for each 
other..."  She smiled then, that same gentle smile, and I 
returned it.

I heard the band take the stage again and knew Mulder would be 
looking for me.  I moved off to join him, then turned back to 
Ruby.  "Does the band take requests?"

"Sure do."  She slid a notepad and pen toward me.  I wrote down 
the name of the song I wanted to hear and handed the slip of 
paper to her.  She read it and smiled.  "Want 'em to read a 
dedication?"  I considered it, then wrote down something else.  
Ruby read it and laughed.

As I headed back to Mulder, I had to ask.  "Ruby, why does 
everybody here call him 'Foxy'?"

She laughed again as she passed me, on her way to the bandstand 
with my request.  "Honey, you're gonna have to ask him about 
that."

I reached our table just as the band launched into a spirited 
rendition of Donna Summer's "Hot Stuff" -- so naturally, I 
grabbed Mulder's hand and pulled him to his feet.  Our bodies 
pressed close together, moving to the beat, I knew we were 
playing with fire.  I could feel his breath on my face, and when 
he kissed my neck I shuddered.

His hands slid from my hips up my back, teased at the low 
neckline there -- the feel of his fingertips on my skin was as 
intoxicating as the wine we'd shared at dinner.  I knew I wanted 
more of that -- I wanted to feel his touch all over, I wanted to 
feel his skin on mine.  I felt a bit cheated, though -- I 
couldn't feel him, his skin, under my hands.  So I made the most 
of what I could touch -- I let my hands slip down his back to his 
hips, to his ass.  He gasped a little at that, and pulled back to 
look into my eyes.  I kissed him deeply, pulled his hips to mine, 
felt his arousal hot and hard against me.

The song ended and he broke the kiss.  We stood very still, eyes 
closed, breathing heavily.  We opened our eyes at almost the same 
moment, and we came together in another kiss.  Then, from the 
bandstand...

"We're not disturbing you two, are we?"

My blush started around my chest and spread all the way to my 
hairline.  Mulder didn't seem the least bit embarrassed.  He 
glanced up at the female singer, who was smiling at us.  "Hey, 
Tasha?  Shut up and sing."

"Don't know if we need to do this next one after all.  It's a 
request, to Foxy from Dana..."

I glanced up at her then, and she gave me a little wink.  I 
kissed Mulder gently as Tasha began to sing the song I'd 
requested.  When he recognized it, he smiled and brought a hand 
up to stroke my face, then we began to dance.  I felt warm and 
safe and loved in his arms -- I hoped he knew that, knew that the 
words Tasha was singing came from my heart, albeit by way of 
Aretha Franklin...

"Oh baby, what you've done to me / You made me feel so good 
inside / And I just wanna be / close to you, you make me feel so 
alive..."

When the song ended, he kissed me softly and whispered my name.  
I laid my head on his shoulder and we continued to dance through 
the next song, and the next -- I don't have a clear memory of 
what those songs were, just that I got to hold Mulder in my arms 
for awhile.

The band started another song and I felt Mulder smile.  He kissed 
my cheek as I heard Tasha say, "Scully, this one's for you."  I 
glanced up at him, and he began to sing softly along with the 
guitar player...

"When a man loves a woman / can't keep his mind on nothin' else / 
He'll trade the world / for the good thing he's found..."

Oh, Mulder.  Tears were threatening to fall.  He held me close 
and I buried my face against his throat, planted a gentle kiss 
there.  He kissed my ear and continued to sing along...

"Well, this man loves you, woman / I gave you everything I had / 
tryin' to hold on to your precious love / baby, please don't 
treat me bad..."

I looked up at that, then pulled him to me and kissed him deeply.  
When we parted, he ran his thumbs over my cheeks -- I was 
surprised to find that I'd started to cry.  I looked up at him, 
my heart in my throat.

"Mulder... take me home."

END

to be continued in CONVERSATION HEARTS III:  ALWAYS, FOREVER