Because I'm on summer break and I have nothing to do but run on the treadmill and watch Celebreality and Celebrity Poker and the occasional show on Court TV, I've once again taken up the art of writing fanfiction in order to appease my boredom.

Okay, so, that being said, this is nothing serious in the slightest. It's just a little fun, I hope.

Natalie


Mulder sat at his desk looking out the tiny window of the basement. He could see snow all around, but not much else. He shivered a little—normally the chill didn't affect him that much, but today was really cold.

He checked the thermometer, the one that told the temperature outside.

"Wow, Scully, it's colder than a well-digger's ass out there!"

Scully looked up from her computer, a slight smile playing on her lips, "What did you say?" she questioned.

"What? I said it's…"

"Colder than a well-digger's ass, yes, I heard you Mulder, but where on earth did you hear that phrase?"

"Come on, Scully, you mean you've never heard that phrase before? You know, because… at the bottom of a well, it's cold, and well…"

Scully laughed a little "No, I understand it's validity Mulder. That is one thing you need not try to force me to believe. For there is no doubt in my mind that a well-digger's ass would be cold."

"Whoa, there's something you don't hear everyday, 'no doubt in Scully's mind'."

"Ha-Ha. Yeah, it's right up there with 'well-digger's ass'."

Mulder shook his head "I can't believe you've never heard that, Scully. What do you say?"

She returned to her typing "Well, Mulder, normally I just say 'it's cold'."

"Oh, come on! I know you have one that you use on occasion, when you're walking around outside feeling like your nose is going to fall off!"

She laughed, amused at his indignation that she did not have 'one.' Then, she smiled, remembering something her father used to say when it was freezing outside. "Okay, I guess I kind of have one."

"A-ha! I knew it! Well, what is it?"

"Well, my dad always used to say that it was 'colder than a witch's…'" She trailed off.

"Ahhh… The good ol' witch's tit."

Scully made a face and Mulder laughed.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, she typing her report, he searching through case files. It felt nice, this random conversation between them. Everything around them was always so heavy—they were constantly knee-deep in something—an X-File, a conspiracy, a near death experience—that they rarely had time to just talk. Explore one another on a lighter level.

They already knew all the deep things about one another—what emotions they felt, feared, and tried not to feel. They knew the important things—they never wasted time on the frivolous things such as witch's tits or well-digger's asses. But, sometimes, the frivolous things can be the most important—sometimes they do matter, when it's an issue of closeness.

Scully sighed as she put the finishing touches on her report. She always hated days like these. Well, they were kind of a double edged sword. She hated when they just sat in the office all day, but she loved that she got to spend time with just Mulder.

She saved her report and turned her computer off.

"Well, Mulder, I guess I'm done." She said as she headed towards her coat.

"So soon?" He questioned, looking up from his file.

"Yeah, I'm a speed demon, what can I say?" She reached for her coat and began to slip it on.

He chuckled, and started to say good-bye. But, then, another thought occurred to him. And he wasn't ready to be alone again just yet. "Hey, Scully, you sure you want to go out there?"

"Um, pretty sure, why?"

"Well, I was just thinking that it would be a shame for an ass such as yours to be as cold as a well-digger's. That just doesn't seem right."

She smiled "Well, I can't see that I have a choice, Mulder." She said, then "My car's out there" she said conspiratorially, while pointing out the window.

"Oh, but you do have a choice!"

"And what choice is that?"

"You could stay in here… with me!" He said, jabbing a finger at his chest as though he were what was behind door number 2.

She laughed. "Uh-huh. I'm listening." She definitely liked the sound of that, as she had long since resigned to the fact that she would spend eternity lusting after her gorgeous partner. Okay, not lusting…. Loving. Loving after? That wasn't right. But, oh well, that's what she was doing.

"Well… we could play a game or something." He said, off the top of his head.

"Sorry, Mulder, but I forgot my Monopoly bored at home."

"Well, I brought mine." He said, then winked at her. "As much as I'd like to monopolize your ass, Scully, that's not the kind of game I was thinking of."

"Okay… what kind of game, then?"

He thought for a minute before he spoke. "Well, not like a game, I guess… just… we could ask each other stuff."

She raised an eyebrow. "Stuff? What kind of stuff?"

Mulder smiled "Just little things, like, things that aren't important, but also things we don't know. You know… just stuff."

Hmmm, she didn't know if she liked the sound of that. Mulder-time was a plus, but she wasn't sure if this would be a wise decision on her part.

"I don't know Mulder…" she said, cautiously.

"Oh, come on Scully! It'll be fun… and you'll be considerably warmer for awhile longer… maybe things will even heat up while we're playing." He said, hopefully. He wanted to know the little things about Scully.

"Oh yeah, I'm sure it'll be like California in the summertime in a matter of minutes." She shook her head.

He smiled a big cake-eating grin. "Please?" he said, with all the enthusiasm of a little child on Christmas morning asking if he could just kick the new soccer ball in the house just this once as long as he didn't break anything.

She sighed. She couldn't resist him in cute mode. Not that she could ever resist him, mind you—but especially in cute mode. "Fine, Mulder." She said, slipping her coat back off and back onto the coat rack.

He brought his elbow down to hi abdomen in a gesture that made clear that said kid had just scored the World Cup goal on Christmas morning.

Scully walked back over to her desk, sat down, and leaned back a little. Mulder put his feet up on his desk. "Okay, Mulder, so, who goes first?"

"I will, since you so kindly gave in." He smiled. "Um, what's your favorite color?"

"Lavender. What's yours?"

"Blue. But, you can't do that."

"Can't do what?" She questioned.

"Just take my question and re-ask it. That's not fair."

"But what if I want to know the answer to the same question?" she asked, not liking this rule. She hated coming up with questions like that. When she was a girl she had always been the worst at coming up with truth or dare questions.

He thought for a moment. She did have a good point. "Well, then you can ask the question at a different time—just not then. You have to come up with an original question. Oh, and remember, this game will tank if we don't elaborate—I'll let you decide if you want to be the party pooper. Okay?"

She groaned "Okaaaaay."

"Good. I'll let that one slide, then, since you didn't know the rules."

She stuck her tongue out at him—and he felt his breath catch in his throat. He'd never seen such a childish act be so cute or… sexy. But he immediately refocused his attention to the task at hand. He'd think about tongues, particularly hers, later.

"How old were you when you had your first real kiss and how did it happen?"

Hm, that was kinda personal. But, oh well, I guess that's why they were playing this game.

"I was 15 and that's a compound question." She said, smiling. "Okay, um, how old were you when you had your first serious girlfriend?"

"I was 16 and she was 17, it was the very first time I ever fell in love. I didn't know I was capable of feeling those emotions. Then, you know, she broke my heart. I didn't know I was capable of feeling those emotions either." He said, smiling.

"Aw, I'm sorry."

He smiled at the sincerity in her voice. "It was forever and a day ago… so there's no reason to apologize. Anyway, your first kiss. How did it happen?"

"Well, Robert was my first-ever serious boyfriend. He was about three years older than I was…"

"Oooh, Scully…" Mulder said and waggled his eyebrows.

"Shut up. Anyway, we were in the theatre once after rehearsal, and we were saying goodbye, and he leaned down, and I leaned up… and he kissed me."

"Wait, you were in theatre?"

"Yes. Does that surprise you?"

"Yeah, I guess so. I just never pictured you as a theatre-y person. Well, maybe a person who goes to see the plays, but not a person who acts in one."

"Well, I did theatre all four years of high school, and I even did some into college."

"I am shocked and amazed. Were you any good?"

"Wow, shocked and amazed, huh? Yeah, I can say without being conceited that I was pretty good. My acting coach in college said he'd never seen anyone with my emotional range and that I was particularly good because of my vulnerability on stage."

"Vulnerability? You? I don't believe it." He joked with a wink, so she would know it was just that, a joke.

"Ha-ha, very funny. Laugh all you want, Mulder, but I was good."

"Wait a minute…." He said thoughtfully.

"What?"

"I know what's been going on here… all these years…"

He looked at her, wide-eyed, and said: "You really are a believer, aren't you?"

She laughed out loud that time, "Ooh, you caught me."

He laughed, and said "So, theatre, huh? Wow. So, whose turn is it?"

"I do believe it's mine."

"Well, then shoot, G-woman."

She thought long and hard before posing her question. She didn't know if she should go there, they'd only been talking about the past… but, she thought she might as well seize the moment… carpe… the moment. "Mulder, when was the last time you had a girlfriend, and why did it end?"

Mulder fell silent—damn. He hadn't expected her to fast forward a million years. He sighed, and said "Now, that's a compound question."


Okay, I thought it was fun. You might not have… but I had fun writing it.

I guarantee you this will go somewhere, and it will be somewhere that ends with a smile.

So, that being said, I'll make like Pat Benatar and ask you to hit me with your best shot (aka: a review) and let me know if you loved it, hated it, wished it would die, or prayed that it had never been born.

But be gentle… that's all I ask of you.

Natalie