Anniversary Day by Lolabeegood E-mail: lolabeegood@gmail.com Distribution: Archive freely with my name attached Rating: PG-13 Categories: S, R Keywords: Mulder/Scully romance Spoilers: Up to and including IWTB, but this takes place before it. Summary: A day in the life of Fox Mulder while living in long-term isolation. Author's Notes: The premise for this story was given to me by Gillian, a very loyal reader of mine. It was so amazing I wrote this story the same day I got her message. To think Gillian, it all started with your idea of Mulder wearing a suit, again. Thanks. I do not own the characters. I do not make any money from this. Enjoy! ************************************* She pulled her car up the long laneway to their house. It had been a relatively easy day at work. She had made rounds, reviewed some labs, and attended a surgical staff meeting about some new protocols. She was getting home at a reasonable hour, and Mulder had called to say dinner was waiting. She was hoping they could spend the evening reading by a fire and drinking some wine she bought last week. As she exited the car, a harsh March wind stole her breath and sent her long hair flying in every direction. She snapped her long coat shut and made a beeline for the front door. Opening the door she was immediately caught by the dim lighting in their living room which was set aglow by a few sparse candles. She peered around and saw no sign of Mulder. Then, her eye caught the elaborately set dining room table and the fire crackling next to it. "Mulder?" she called as a smile crept across her face. Not hearing an answer, she took off her coat and slung it over a nearby chair. She walked further into the room and her senses were overwhelmed with a very aromatic dish that he must be cooking in the kitchen. "Mulder?" she called again as she stepped out of her shoes. "Nobody here but the FBI's most unwanted," he said as he walked down the stairs. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of him. He was dressed in a dark blue suit with a striped tie. The one she had given him for Christmas a lifetime ago. His hair was done and his face was freshly shaven and he looked...gorgeous. He was adjusting his shirt cuffs when he reached the landing at the bottom of the stairs and for a moment, he looked about 10 years younger. "Oh, my god, Mulder," she gasped as she watched him stride across the room in his dress shoes. "You like?" he asked as he stretched his arms out on either side. "You look...you look amazing," she said as she touched her chest. "Scully, you look like you've never seen a man in a suit before." He chuckled. "I haven't seen this man in a suit for a very long time," she said as her eyes welled up with tears and she touched his shirt. "Scully..." he said softly as he held her arms "this is supposed to be a celebration tonight, not a wake." "I'm sorry," she said lowering her head and shaking away the tears, "what are we celebrating?" He smiled down at her. "Fifteen years ago, Boutros Boutros Ghali was the UN Secretary General, George Herbert Bush was President, The Redskins defeated the Bills in Super bowl Twenty-six and, on March 7th, 1992 you walked into my life." Her eyes widened with realization. The date had escaped her all day today. "Happy 15th Anniversary Scully," he said with a smile as he leaned in and kissed her passionately on the lips. She returned the kiss with fervor and breathed in his cologne and aftershave. He was a perfectly coiffed man, like he had been many years ago. He pulled her closer and deepened the kiss as his hands clutched her to him and hers roamed the expanse of his back. The suit was restrictive on him and it reminded her of the many kisses they shared while dressed this way, a long time ago. "I love you" she whispered as their lips parted. "Me too," he smiled back as he pulled slightly away from her. "Mulder, you did all this?" "I did," he said as they both took stock of the room. "Fifteen years," she said as she shook her head. "I know," he said as he patted her waist and started toward the kitchen. "Supper's almost ready; I just have to stir the sauce." "Mulder, can I help?" she offered, not wanting to leave his side. "You can open the wine," he said as he disappeared into the kitchen. "Where'd you find the suit?" she called to him as she started to undo the foil on the bottle. "It was in a crate in the attic. I had to iron it," he called. "It still fits you well in all the right places," she said seductively as she turned the corkscrew. "It's a little tight in the waist," he said as he brought a salad to the table. "All these years of being a kept man and not chasing mutants, have expanded my waistline a little." "Mulder," she said as she grabbed his apron strings and pulled him towards her to whisper, "you are still the sexist man I've ever known." "Slow down Scully," he smiled at her and held her waist, "we have all night." "That we do," she smiled under hooded lids. They parted and he returned to the kitchen. She poured some wine for each other them and walked over to the stereo to select some music. She decided on an Etta James CD and set the volume low. He, meanwhile, had been ushering food out from the kitchen. So far there was Fettuccini Alfredo, a salad, fresh bread, various cheeses, olives and grapes on the table. She was quite impressed with the spread, considering she had purchased none of it at the grocery store. "Mulder, where did all the food come from?" she asked as she snatched a grape. "I shipped it in," he said as he walked from the kitchen with some dipping oil and placed it on the table. "From where?" she asked as she undid his apron and slowly removed it from his body. Making sure to run her hands up his thigh and around to his ass. "Maybe I should wear the suit more often," he quipped as he watched her. "Maybe it's the fact that you haven't in so long, that's turning me on," she smiled up at him. "Scully, have you ever seen me in a kilt?" he said seductively. "Let's eat Mulder," she chuckled at him. He pulled out her chair and she sat very primly waiting to she pushed in. He did just that, and opened a napkin on her lap. "We've never gone anywhere fancy for dinner, have we?" he asked as he took a seat. "No, mostly fast food and diners," she laughed as she raised a glass, "but this is really nice, Mulder. Better than any snooty restaurant." "Thank you," he smiled back. "A toast," she said as he raised his glass to join hers, "to fifteen years of, us." "To fifteen years of love," he added. "You've loved me for that long?" she asked, astounded. "Pretty much," he said as they clinked glasses. "Really?" she asked again. "Scully, I can remember not trusting you and being very pissed off at you for a bit but then...then it turned to love suddenly, and it hasn't changed since." "So, what took you so long?" she smiled at him as she took a drink. "I was waiting for you," he said as he took a drink. "I wasn't that far behind you," she said as if trying to recollect the exact moment she fell in love with him. "How close?" he asked as he dished out the fettuccini. "Remember when we were investigating the military man who practiced voodoo?" "'Yeah," he said as he took a mouthful of pasta. "Then," she said as she dipped some bread in the oil. "Then? What happened on that case?" "We were at the prison, and I was talking to Beauvert, I think that was his name, about the killings and he became quite intent on me. You stepped between us, blocking me from his glare and protecting me from his words. I remember looking at you differently, after that moment." "So, I could have made a move on you then?" he asked shocked. "Yep," she shook her head and took another drink. "All that time wasted, when we could have been..." "I think we've made up for it, don't you?" she smirked at him. "Not quite yet," he leered at her. They ate the rest of the meal recalling various cases they had worked on, meals they had eaten, and injuries they had suffered all the years that they worked together. They talked about the time Skinner found out they were romantically involved, and the time her mother walked in on them kissing. He recounted one particularly steamy make-out session in a motel in Denver and she, a sexy shower in Atlanta while they were on the run. "Do you miss any of it?" he asked her nostalgically. She pondered the question for a minute over her empty plate. "I guess I miss the adrenaline rush, a little." "That's it?" he asked as he poured the rest of the bottle into their glasses. "I miss the secret glances you used to give me across meetings," she started, "the way your hand always found a spot to touch me in public very chastely, although I knew your thoughts were dirty." "They were." He confirmed. "I guess I miss a bit of the intrigue and mystery of it all." She sighed and took a drink. "What about you?" "I miss it." He said quickly. "I miss the mental exercises you made me do everyday to prove myself." "I did make you work for everything," she smirked. "You still do," he grinned at her as he leaned across the table and took her hand in his, kissing it. She smiled at the simple gesture. At his loosened tie. At the way the candles flickered light across his masculine features. "You know Mulder," she sighed as she placed her napkin on the table with her free hand, "I do like you in that suit, but it's not really you, anymore." He raised an eyebrow at her. "When you wore that suit I had to share you with the world. With work, with...you were never totally mine." She smiled deviously at him. "But now, here...despite the circumstances, I couldn't think of a better way to spend the rest of my life. I finally get you all to myself." "I'm not sure if that's a blessing or a curse," he shrugged and released her hand. "Mulder, everyday with you has always been a blessing." She said as she rose from her seat and kneeled before him holding his hands in hers. "These last 15 years have been a blessing. You are" she choked on the words a little as tears filled her eyes, "the love of my life." He lunged forward and placed his hands on either side of her face as he kissed her lips thoroughly. They rose from their spots together and, while still kissing, made their way to the stairs. The FBI's most unwanted didn't emerge from their sanctuary for two days. *************************** The end.