Hearts and Flowers
by Polly

Email:  Polly122456@yahoo.com
Rating:  PG-13
Classification:  MSR, Holidayfic (Valentine's Day)
Spoilers:  Season 7, Millennium, Hungry.  Takes place 
between Signs & Wonders and Sein Und Zeit

Disclaimer:  Mulder and Scully belong to DD, GA, CC, 
and 1013 productions; I'm just borrowing them

Archive:  If you want it, it's yours
Feedback:  Always welcome and appreciated

Notes:  Thanks to Kim for the quick beta and thanks 
to Christine Leigh for the motivation (see notes at 
the end)

Summary:  Must be fate


*   *   *   *   *   *   *

Hearts and Flowers
By Polly

*4:32*

Her pencil tapped out a rhythm on the yellow legal 
pad as she tried to focus on the autopsy report, but 
her mind and her eyes drifted.  She checked her 
watch, the clock on the wall, the display in the 
corner of her computer screen - all surprisingly in 
agreement.  Then a glance at Mulder; shirtsleeves 
rolled up, chair pushed back, feet on the desk, 
snacking on sunflower seeds, nose stuck in a 
reference book.  He'd barely moved for the past 45 
minutes except to turn pages and spit in the 
trashcan.

She doodled a Scully original at the top of the pad 
and continued tapping.  They shouldn't let today pass 
without a mention of its significance, she told 
herself, but she hadn't broached the subject and 
neither had Mulder.  She'd bought him a card - not 
too sappy yet not completely devoid of sentiment - 
but it still rested in her coat pocket.  She'd 
started to give it to him at least a dozen times, but 
it was never the 'perfect moment,' and now her window 
of opportunity had passed.

It was barely six weeks since they'd shared their 
first real kiss, but it seemed like an eternity to 
Scully.  That New Year's voyage into uncharted 
territory had prompted several days and nights of 
unbridled passion, but once the initial curiosities 
were satisfied (quite nicely, she reminded herself), 
they had mutually agreed to slow down.  They wanted 
to take their time exploring this new phase of their 
relationship, ensuring that in the process they 
didn't destroy the old one.  'Slow and steady wins 
the race,' she'd jokingly said to Mulder.

Now she wished she could eat those words.  Her role 
in their professional partnership had always been to 
put on the brakes when Mulder wanted to go, go, go, 
and she assumed it would be the same in their 
personal relationship.  But now she was the one 
aching to speed things up while he appeared to be in 
no hurry to get their romance back on the fast track.  
The world didn't end with their New Year's kiss, but 
in her estimation it had slowed to an infuriating 
crawl.  

She hoped Valentine's Day might provide the excuse 
they both needed to get the engines revving again, 
but so far there was no sign Mulder realized February 
14th had any significance whatsoever except to fill 
the void between the 13th and the 15th.

And now it was 4:36.

She was so lost in clock and Mulder watching that she 
nearly bolted out of her shoes when the phone on his 
desk rang. He made no attempt to answer it, so she 
reached over and picked up the receiver.

"Scully."

"Agent Scully, this is Pam at the reception desk.  
Something was delivered for you up here.  Would you 
like someone to bring it down?"

She glanced over at Mulder, a hint of a smile 
crossing her lips.  "No, that's okay," she replied.  
"I'll come get it.  Thanks."  She put the receiver 
back in its cradle and adjusted her skirt as she 
walked toward the door.

Mulder kept his eyes on his book.  "What's up?"

"There's a delivery for me upstairs," she replied.  
"I'm going up to get it."

"Want me to go?"

"No, I'll go.  Be right back."  She was grinning from 
ear to ear when she stepped into the elevator.  This 
was vintage Mulder.  Pretend to be oblivious, then 
spring a last-minute surprise.  He probably wanted to 
be sure that all the Bureau gossip mongers would have 
something to talk about tomorrow - many would be 
leaving for the day right about now and they'd see 
her picking up a huge bouquet of flowers.  In his own 
sweet way he was making sure those who lamented the 
fate of poor "Mrs. Spooky," locked in the basement 
with the resident crackpot, knew that she had a life 
after all.

She couldn't help humming as the elevator made its 
ascent to the lobby.

*   *   *   *   *   *   *

She slumped in her chair and dropped the small 
package on the edge of the desk, absently tracing the 
label with her finger.  Mulder closed his book and 
watched her for a few moments, then dropped his feet 
noisily to the floor.  She didn't even flinch.

"Aren't you going to open it?"

"Hmmm?"  She looked up to meet his gaze, then turned 
her eyes back to the package.  "No, I know what's in 
it.  It's those special scalpels I ordered.  They 
finally came."

"Oh, good."  He placed his elbows on the desk and 
clasped his hands under his chin.  "You seem 
disappointed.  Were you expecting something else?"

"What?  No. Well, I thought maybe ... no."

He continued to watch her as he returned the book to 
the wall shelf.  "Scully, you've been fidgety all 
day.  You were obviously expecting something else 
when they said you had a package.  This wouldn't have 
anything to do with the fact that today is 
Valentine's Day, would it?"

She was immediately defensive.  "No! Of course not."

Sometimes his eyebrow was as demonstrative as hers.  
"Is that really true?"

She stood up and retrieved her purse from the desk 
drawer.  "Well, I suppose a small part of me thought 
that maybe ... I mean, it's not so far-fetched is it?  
This is a day when it's customary for people who care 
for one another to demonstrate their affection in 
some way.  Anyway, it crossed my mind, that's all.  
Just forget it." 

He chuckled and sat down behind the desk again.  "I'm 
surprised at you, Scully.  I never imagined you were 
the type to buy into the trappings of a holiday 
created by corporate America solely for the purpose 
of boosting the sales of greeting cards, candy, and 
roses.  I guess I've never seen you as a 'hearts and 
flowers' kind of girl."

"I'm not, generally."  She removed her long wool coat 
from the coat rack and slipped it on.  "But that 
doesn't mean I have to be cynical about it. Honestly, 
Mulder, only you could turn a simple celebration of 
love into a conspiracy against the American people.  
But I can see your point.  Men and women spend 
millions of dollars on this day, and for what?  
Greeting cards that end up in the recycling bin, 
flowers that end up in the trash, and chocolate that 
ends up on our hips and forces us to spend one more 
hour a day at the gym.  Thank you for helping me to 
realize the error of my ways."

"Look, Scully, if it's that important to you I can go 
out and get you some flowers right now.  There's an 
enterprising young man with a bouquet on almost every 
street corner today."

"No, thanks."  She paused in the doorway.  "I don't 
want to argue.  You're right.  It's a silly holiday.  
Just forget it, okay?"

"Sure, Scully."  He leaned back to snag a book from 
the credenza.  "Maybe you'd like to come over later.  
There's a Knicks game on cable and I was gonna order 
pizza."

"No thanks.  I've got some things to do tonight." 
I'll see you tomorrow.  Enjoy the game."

"Scully ..."

"I'm fine, Mulder.  Good night."

*   *   *   *   *   *   *

Stopping at the grocery store to pick up a salad for 
dinner seemed like a good idea until she realized she 
was facing a close encounter more frightening than 
any alien could dish out:  The Attack of the Last 
Minute Valentine Shoppers.  She couldn't escape them.  
They breezed by her in every aisle, in frozen foods, 
and in the produce section, their arms laden with 
telltale signs of Mass Valentine Hysteria - cards, 
balloons, stuffed animals, boxes of chocolate, and 
every form of flower imaginable, from single rose to 
lavish arrangement.  And none of them were meant for 
her.

When one of the mutants asked for her opinion on a 
card for his wife, it must have pushed her over the 
edge.  She'd gone into shock, she decided.  That was 
the only way to explain the contents of her shopping 
cart.  Scully didn't remember picking out any of the 
items, but the clerk nodded understandingly as she 
passed them over the scanner: two pints of Rocky 
Road, a package of Mallomars, a bag of Hershey's 
kisses, and a can of whipped cream - the menu for a 
pity party of gigantic proportions.

She accepted her receipt and change with a sigh, and 
as she fished in her pocket for her car keys, her 
fingers brushed the envelope still tucked there.  She 
pulled it out, took a last look at the 'Mulder' she'd 
written on it this morning, and tossed it in the 
nearest trash can on her way to the parking lot.

*   *   *   *   *   *   *

The side entrance to her apartment building was 
rarely used by anyone but her, and tonight she was 
grateful it was there.  She wanted to spare herself 
the pain of running into any happy couples who might 
be leaving for a romantic night out on the town or 
any of her well meaning but nosy neighbors worried 
that she was spending Valentine's Day alone ... 
again.  She managed to slip in unnoticed and started 
the short walk to her apartment door when something 
crunched under her shoe.

She looked behind her at the powdery residue on the 
floor and shrugged.  Someone must have dropped an 
aspirin or something, she thought, and turned back to 
continue down the hallway.  But before she took 
another step she saw them, one placed every five or 
six feet, the last one just outside her apartment.

The objects were lined up too neatly to have been 
spilled there.  She took a few steps forward and 
finally realized what they were - conversation 
hearts.

She walked by them slowly, pausing and stooping 
slightly to read each one.

HUG ME

PUCKER UP

SHOW ME

BE MINE

KISS ME

LUV YOU

Kids playing in the hallway must have left them 
there, she reasoned, as she stepped over the last one 
and let herself into the apartment.  She didn't stop 
to turn on the lamp as she came through the door; the 
streetlights filtering through the blinds offered 
just enough light for her to make her way to the 
kitchen and put away the groceries.  She opened the 
Mallomars and popped one in her mouth, holding it 
between her teeth while she toed off her shoes, took 
off her coat and suit jacket, and unbuttoned the 
cuffs of her shirt.  She took a huge bite of the 
cookie as she moved back across the living room to 
hang her coat on the rack by the door.

She swallowed the rest of the cookie and flicked the 
wall switch to turn on the lamp. She closed her eyes 
at the flash of bright light and rubbed her temples 
slowly.  First a nice, long bath, she decided.  Then 
she'd crash on the couch for the rest of the evening.  
She locked the door, then turned around to make her 
way to the bedroom - and stopped dead in her tracks.

Her mouth gaped open at the sight before her.  
Scattered around the living room were eight vases, 
each holding a dozen long stemmed roses, each with a 
numbered envelope propped against it.

The roses in vase Number 1 were lavender, and her 
fingers were shaking as she opened the envelope and 
removed the card.  A short verse was printed on it, 
in handwriting she knew as well as her own.

"Roses are red, violets are blue,
My life changed when I met you."

She clutched the card tightly as she made her way to 
the second vase, filled with yellow roses.

"Roses are red, roses are yellow,
You've made me a most happy fellow."

She moved from one vase to the next, pausing to 
admire and touch the flowers that each vessel held 
before opening the envelope and reading the 
accompanying poem.

Number 3 - dark pink
"Roses are red, roses are pink,
Somebody saved me - who do you think?"

Number 4 - white
"Roses are fragile, someday turn to dust,
Don't ever doubt you're the one that I trust."

Number 5 - pale pink
"Roses are pink, and a joy to receive
Say that you love me - I want to believe."

Number 6 - six red, six white
"Roses are red, roses are white
What are you doing later tonight?"

Number 7 - coral
"Roses are red, roses are coral,
Let's get together and do something immoral."

Number 8 - red
"Roses are red, violets are blue
The rest of my life belongs to you."

Finally she collapsed on the sofa and read all eight 
cards again careful not to let her tears smudge the 
cherished verses.  She was so lost in her emotions, 
she barely heard the knock at the door.

She grabbed a Kleenex from the box on the end table 
and wiped her eyes.  "Who is it?"

"Candygram!"

She blew her nose and rushed to the door, her fingers 
fumbling to undo the chain.  When she finally pulled 
it open he was leaning against the frame, hands 
behind his back.

She dabbed at her eyes with the tissue.  "I don't 
know whether to kiss you or kill you."

"Do I get to vote?"  He handed her the two-pound box 
of chocolates in the red heart-shaped box that he'd 
been hiding behind him.  "Happy Valentine's Day, 
Scully.  Here's the heart, there's the flowers.  I'm 
sorry that you're not a hearts and flowers kind of 
girl, but I'm a hearts and flowers kind of guy, so 
you're just going to have to learn to live with it."

She stood on tiptoe to kiss him, then pulled him 
inside the apartment and closed the door.  "Mulder, I 
can't believe you did all this.  The hearts in the 
hallway, these flowers ... how?"

"I'm afraid I can't divulge that information," he 
said.  "It's a trade secret.  And if you try to get 
me to admit that there's any resemblance between 
Cupid and Melvin Frohike, I'll deny it."

She laughed and held up the poems.  "And these!  
Mulder, they are so sweet."

"I'd say corny is a better description."

"Well, I love them.  They're better than any sonnet."  
She placed them on the coffee table next to vase 
Number 4.  "The flowers are just beautiful, so many 
wonderful colors.  But eight dozen!  You didn't have 
to go overboard like that."

"Scully, don't tell me you missed the metaphor!  Do I 
have to remind you that next month is the eighth 
anniversary of our partnership?  A dozen roses for 
each year, and each color represents a different 
facet of our relationship."

"I don't understand."

"Here, I'll show you.  I did my homework."  He took 
her hand in one of his and used the other to point at 
each vase as he talked.  "Lavender roses indicate the 
sender has fallen in love at first sight - which I 
did in spite of that God-awful suit you wore that 
day."  He ignored her playful poke in the ribs and 
continued.  "Yellow represents friendship. Dark pink 
conveys appreciation and gratitude, and white stands 
for purity and truth."

He moved behind her and slipped his arms around her 
waist.  "Pale pink means grace, gentleness, and 
perfect happiness.  And red and white roses presented 
together signify unity - the joining of perfect 
opposites.  Coral indicates desire - pretty self-
explanatory, I think.  And red represents respect, 
courage, and passion.  And most of all, red says 'I 
love you'.  And I do love you, Scully."

"And I love you, Mulder."  She kissed him, then 
traced his lower lip with her finger.  "Even though 
you let me make a complete fool of myself in the 
office this afternoon."

"Well, I didn't want to spoil the surprise," he said.  
"Besides, you were so cute defending the virtue of 
Hallmark, Whitman's, and FTD.  Now go get dressed or 
we're gonna be late."

"Late for what?"

"I made reservations at that new French restaurant on 
M Street," he replied.  "So go get changed."

"That place is impossible to get into any night of 
the week.  How did you get reservations on 
Valentine's Day?"

"I didn't exactly start planning this yesterday, 
Scully," he said.  "This operation has been years in 
the making."

The eyebrow was still in excellent working condition.  
"Years?  I think you mean weeks."

"No, I mean years.  I've been planning our first 
Valentine's Day together almost since the moment I 
met you.  That's a pretty big advantage.  Implementing 
it was the easy part.  I'm just sorry it took so long 
to get to this point.  When I think of all the hearts 
and flowers I could have heaped on you for the last 
eight years ..."

"Oh, Mulder."  Her chin began to quiver and she tried 
to pull away, but he held her shoulders tightly.

"Hey, what's all this?  Why are you crying?"

"Because of what you did.  Because of what I didn't 
do."  Her words were punctuated by tiny sobs.  "I 
wanted this day to be so special, to be the perfect 
day ... but I didn't do anything to make that happen. 
I didn't even get you anything because I was too 
afraid of doing the wrong thing.  Well, I got you a 
card, but then I threw it away because I thought 
*that* was the wrong thing.  I was so selfish ..."

"Selfish?"  He tipped her chin up so her eyes were 
forced to meet his.  "Scully, you've given up 
everything to be with me.  You stuck by me when no 
one else would.  The day you walked into my office 
was the best day of my life. And you love me, and 
there's no greater gift that that.  You don't have to 
say it, or do things to show it, because you make me 
*feel* it.  And in my book, that's more important 
than anything in the world."

He pulled her into a tight embrace and she sighed 
contentedly as he rested his chin on the top of her 
head.  He stroked her hair and she placed her hand 
over his heart, and they stood like that for what 
seemed like a long time.

"Everything okay now?" Mulder finally whispered, his 
breath rustling her hair.

"Okay like you wouldn't believe."

"Good."  He squeezed her shoulders gently and winked.  
"But if you're still feeling badly about not giving 
me anything, I could make a few suggestions for 
later."

She giggled and lightly smacked his chest, and he 
knew everything would be all right. "Now go change 
into something black and sexy cause we've got an 
evening of French kissing ahead of us.  In the 
restaurant.  I was talkin' about the restaurant."

"Sure you were.  Anyway, I thought you wanted to 
watch the basketball game."

He shook his head in exasperation.  "I know I can be 
an insensitive jerk sometimes, Scully, but did you 
seriously believe that I would let you spend 
Valentine's Day alone?  Especially our first 
Valentine's Day as a bona fide couple?"

"After the things you said this afternoon, I wasn't 
sure."

"If I have my way, you will never spend Valentine's 
Day alone again.  Or Arbor Day or Groundhog Day or 
..."  She laughed and he kissed the tip of her nose.  
"That's more like it," he said.  "Now go get changed.  
Get those beautiful little legs moving."

"All right.  Would you like something to drink while 
you're waiting?"

"Iced tea?  But I can get it."

"No, you sit down.  It'll only take me a second and 
then I'll change.  Quickly, I promise."

She was dropping ice cubes into a glass when an idea 
hit.  "Mulder, do you remember that little negligee I 
bought when we were in Costa Mesa?"

"How could I forget?" he called back.  "I thought I 
was gonna be a 'Lucky Boy' that night, but our burger 
flippin', brain suckin', mutant monster friend Rob 
Roberts kind of killed the mood."

"So I guess that means you haven't seen me in it 
then, right?"

"Only in my very wet dreams."

She laughed.  "Then maybe I do have a Valentine's 
gift for you after all."

"Ah, Scully, if there's whipped cream in that fridge, 
could be love."

As she placed the iced tea pitcher back in the 
refrigerator, she accidentally knocked over the 
recently purchased can of Reddi Whip.  She held the 
can in her palm for a moment, then placed it back on 
the shelf.  "Did you hear that?" she whispered.  "I 
guess you just got invited to a different kind of 
party tonight.  Happy Valentine's Day."

"Did you say something, Scully?"

She closed the refrigerator, picked up his glass, and 
snapped off the kitchen light.  "I said 'must be 
fate' Mulder.  Must be fate."

THE END

*   *   *   *   *   *   *

Note: I wasn't considering writing anything for 
Valentine's Day, but reading Christine Leigh's 
Valentine vignette "The Real Thing" inspired me to 
try.  It's a little late, but this is what I came up 
with.  Thanks to Christine for the inspiration and 
Happy Valentine's Day!