I don't own anything nor am I profiting from anything. I'm merely just borrowing the characters for my own enjoyment. All rights belong to CC and Fox and 1043 and all that jazz. You know the drill.

"She's only trying to get his attention, but doesn't know it." -Phillip Padgett, Milagro

? ミムヒ? ミムヒ? ミムヒ? ミムヒ? ミムヒ? ミムヒ? ミムヒ? ミムヒ? ミムヒ? ミムヒ? ミムヒ? ミムヒ? ミムヒ? ミムヒ? ミムヒ? ミムヒ?

She's been avoiding him for the past week and Scully knows that he's probably confused and hurt about it. She didn't even have a good reason to be sitting curled up on her couch, screening her calls to avoid a certain male partner of hers. But Padgett's words keep ringing in her head and making her feel vulnerable. Agent Scully is already in love. Damn him. Damn Padgett. Scully just knows that Mulder's mind is most likely reeling with possibilities, working overtime to analyze all of her recent behaviors and spoken words, trying to find a connection, a loophole. He's wondering what he missed, how he didn't realize that she was seeing someone. Then there was also another possibility, equally as terrifying as the first scenario. Mulder would realize that it's him that she's in love with. Her best friend. Her partner. Scully slammed her face down into her hands. Why did she have to be such a baby about this?

Scully wished it didn't phase her. She'd love it if she could just compartmentalize her feelings again like normal, but she felt exposed. The worry that he would just see right through her the next time he saw her plagued her every thought. Hugging a throw pillow to her chest, Scully blankly stared out the living room window, watching as the night-time city light slowly came to life. She's not sure how long she spent lost in thought, but the next thing she knew her phone was ringing. Knowing already who it was, Scully didn't make a move to answer it. The voicemail picked up and Mulder's rich baritone filled the stale air of her lonely apartment. Her breath caught as she listened to his voice. God, she missed him.

"Hey, Scully… It's me..."

His voice sounded so unsure of himself that it made Scully sad. She hated hurting him, but she just didn't know how to handle the situation or the emotions she was having. She needed time to process.

"I, uh, guess you're out of town or something… Sorry about my other messages. I just got a little worried since I haven't heard from you. I'll, uhm, see you back at work or something..."

The dial tone assaulted her hearing far too soon for her liking. Scully huffed at herself. She was being ridiculous. She wasn't a lovelorn fifteen-year-old anymore. She was a questionably well-adjusted adult and it was time she started acting like one. Getting up from her couch with determination she headed toward her bedroom. On her way, a shiny new bottle of merlot caught her eye. Maybe some liquid courage would help first.

Three hours later saw her well over the amount that she should have consumed, liquid courage turning into brazen confidence. Drunkenly deciding that a night out would help distract her from her problems until she could figure them out herself. Donning a rarely used tight black dress that hit a few inches above the knee, Scully quickly did her makeup before grabbing her purse and calling a cab. She was going dancing. Locking her apartment behind her, she waltzed to the end of the hall as best as she could in her equally unused stilettos and waited for the elevator car to arrive. When the doors finally opened she didn't look before propelling herself forward. Surprisingly, her body collided with another, the momentum knocking her off balance. A pair of strong hands gripped her arms with force in order to keep her from falling down completely.

"S'thanks." She slurred quietly at the figure, still not quite registering what had happened. That was until she heard a familiar voice that sent chills through her body.


? ミムヒ? ミムヒ? ミムヒ? ミムヒ? ミムヒ? ミムヒ? ミムヒ? ミムヒ? ミムヒ? ミムヒ? ミムヒ? ミムヒ? ミムヒ? ミムヒ? ミムヒ? ミムヒ?

Mulder didn't know what was happening. Scully hadn't talked to him in six days. He was worried, but he knew she could take care of herself. He was mostly just scared that Padgett had been right. Was he right? Was Scully seeing someone? Why didn't she tell him? Her aloof presence, or lack thereof, since that day only furthered him in his fear. What if she was busy shacking up with whoever it was? While he was sitting alone in his apartment scared that the woman he loved secretly loved someone else, was she busy getting down with that person? Was she having the time of her life? Getting laid? Going out to fancy romantic dinners? Just the thought of someone else's hands on Scully... her laughing or her eyes lighting up for someone that wasn't him… well, it downright nauseated him. He knew it was territorial of him and certainly not within his given rights as her platonic partner, but he couldn't help it.

After a while, he decided to call her and leave a pathetic and wimpy voicemail on her machine. It was a Saturday night. She probably was out on some big date. He sulked in a swamp of self-pity in his dark apartment for a few hours until his phone rang. {ractically leaping off the couch, he scrambled to answer it. "Mulder," he answered, trying to breathe normally and not sound excited.

"Fox? This is Maggie Scully."

Running his free hand down the side of his face, Mulder replied to her, his excitement now turning to concern. He and Mrs. Scully rarely had reason to talk unless it was about her youngest daughter. "Hi, Mrs. Scully. What's wrong? Is Dana okay?"

Her tone sounded weary. "That's what I was hoping you would know… I haven't been able to reach her for the past few days. I was hoping she was with you."

Mulder's senses went on high alert. "No, no I haven't heard from her." He was already getting up and slipping on his shoes. "I'll head over to her apartment to check on her right now."

"Thank you, Fox." Maggie's voice sounded relieved. "Will you let me know if she's all right? This just isn't like her unless you two are out on a case."

"I will, Mrs. Scully."

After they hung up, Mulder grabbed his keys and flew out the door, his initial concerns about the content of Scully's week off slipping to the back of his mind. Arriving in Georgetown at record speed, Mulder impatiently waited for the elevator to reach her floor. He wished he'd taken the stairs. When the doors finally opened, he made a move to exit the car only to come into contact with another person. He quickly reached out to grab onto the person's arms in order to keep them from falling. It was only once he let go of the person and took in their features that he realized it was Scully, only his Scully was looking very un-Scully at the moment.

"S'thanks," she slurred slightly.

Mulder noted the hint of wine on her breath. "Scully?" He questioned, not being able to hide the fact that his jaw was dropping at the sight of her ensemble: a very tight, short black dress that highlighted every part of her somehow, fuck-me heels, and bright red lipstick. He would be drooling if his mind wasn't so preoccupied with wondering who this outfit was meant for. It certainly wasn't meant for his own eyes, but God he wished it were. He watched as she looked up at him, eyes as wide as a deer, and licked her lips nervously.

"Muller?" She looked as if she didn't believe he was actually there. The way she said his name was completely adorable, however. He wished he had the time and privilege to fully absorb that precious sound.

"Where ya' goin', Scully?" He couldn't hide the apprehensive tone in his voice.

"Out," she huffed defiantly as she attempted to blow some hair away from her face unsuccessfully. It was all so awfully cute, Mulder wished he had different circumstances to truly enjoy Drunk Scully. Maybe in another lifetime. Right now, he had other problems to contend with.

"Out, Scully? Out where?"

"Jus' out!" She stomped her foot on the ground with balled-up fists, almost losing her balance again in the process.

"Whoah there, honey." He didn't know where that word came from. It just slipped out. "Let's get you back inside, Scully. You're way too drunk to be going out alone, especially at this time of night." Mulder grabbed her shoulders and slowly tried to steer her unwilling body back toward her apartment door.

"Muller," Scully whined uncharacteristically. "No fair," she pouted as he led her inside and locked the door behind him. "You always ruin my fun."

"Scully," Mulder sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "We can talk about this in the morning… and we can talk about why you haven't answered any of the calls from me and your mom."

Her eyes squinted slowly. "You talked to my mother?"

Mulder crossed his arms in indignation. "Yes, she called me, Scully. She was worried sick about you and frankly so was I. I was trying to give you space but then I realized that you weren't going to reach out. What with your boyfriend and all."

Her eyes got big. "My... wha-?"

"You know what, Scully? Nevermind, it's none of my business and we shouldn't be having this conversation anyway."

Scully could sense his protectiveness and through her drunken stupor, it still managed to set her nerves on fire. She knew it was just out of brotherly affection, but still. "Jealous, Muller?"

"What? No!" He scoffed unconvincingly. "No!"

She sauntered up to him with a sly, sloppy grin and poked her index finger into his chest with every word she spoke, "Yes. You. Are."

He caught her hand within both of his, only letting go quickly once he realized that Scully was leaning into his touch. She felt like fire… and it wasn't from the wine. "It doesn't matter, Scully. You're drunk and I'm… why are you drunk, Scully?" Mulder quirked his head the side out of curiosity.

"What w-would ya' say if I s-said you." She got closer to him again.

Mulder took a step back from her, his mind amuck with confusion. "M-me?" he stuttered.

"Yess, you, Cowboy." Scully purred at him, slinking closer yet again.

It was clear that the wine had a certain effect on her outside of being the propellant in her current outfit and attempted evening out. If he didn't know any better, he'd say Scully was trying to put the moves on him. "Scully," he whimpered, both in elation at the fantasy that was playing out in front of him and in terror that he had to somehow manage to stop her because she was drunk and involved with someone that wasn't him. "What about your Romeo that you're seeing?"

Scully chuckled huskily. She took a step forward, which caused him to ram his back unsuspectingly into a wall behind him. He gulped. She put both of her hands on his chest and ran them downward. "How much longer are you gonna make me wait, Muller?" She spoke in a low tone, almost as if it were a secret. A shiver ran through him involuntarily. What had gotten into her?

Her hand suddenly made close contact with the inseam of his pants and Mulder yelped. "Scully! Woah! Hey now!" He removed her hand from his pants and slid as fast as he could away from her. When he managed to look back, he saw the heartbroken look on her face.

Her eyes filled up with tears and her lips trembled. "I knew you wouldn't want me," she whimpered almost under her breath.

Mulder's heart dropped. What was truly going on here? He really needed her to sober up so he could have an actual conversation with her. "Scully, hey!" He took a step forward and she fell into his arms like a child. "Shh," he soothed her. "Let's get you to bed, huh?" He didn't want to have a heartfelt conversation with her about their feelings when there was a chance she wouldn't remember it in the morning. Leading her back into her bedroom, he waited for her while she changed in the bathroom. When she came out, looking all the more like the Scully he knew and loved, in her oversized flannel pajamas and freckled face.

She nervously tucked her hair behind her ear. It was short enough to never fully stick, but she did it nonetheless. She seemed slightly more sober now that she was sad, but he knew that was just a deception. "Will you, uh," she licked her lips, "stay with me?"

"Sure, Scully." He pointed toward the door. "I'll just be right out on the couch."

"No! Uh," she sounded slightly frantic. "I mean… stay with me. In my bed, Muller."

Sweet Jesus, how many fantasies was he going to experience tonight without the full ability to actually appreciate them.

"Jus' sleep. I promise." She held out her pinky finger from the other side of the room and that was what sealed the deal for Mulder. Just sleep, she said. He could handle that.

"Yeah, yeah. I guess so." He stripped down to his boxers and climbed into bed after her. He was pleasantly surprised, yet on edge when Scully immediately slid into his arms and planted her head on his chest. "Scully?"

"Shh," she mocked him loosely. "Sleep, Muller."

Mulder relaxed. It ended up being the fastest he had ever fallen asleep.