New! Invitation by S. Proto
Date: Wednesday, March 01, 2000

Category: Vignette (yes, really!)

Rating: PG13 (but mostly innuendo <EG>)

Keywords: Angst, UST

Spoilers: Up through FPS

Disclaimers: Mulder and Scully do not belong to me. Neither does Detective
Lacouer or Maitreya (forgive me, but I've seen about a half dozen different
spellings of la villianess' name) I'm merely borrowing them, and will return
them safely into the arms of 1013 Productions when I'm finished playing.

Thanks to Vickie Moseley, for the very fast turnaround on this! Now, about
that little story that takes place in the Mother Country. <VBEG>


By Susan Proto (


Mulder was driving himself and Scully back to the local PD. Detective
Lacoeur turned out to be a pretty stand-up kind of guy after all. He told
them they could bum some office space at the station house in order to file
their report on the virtual reality computer game as quickly as possible,
before any of the details faded from their memory. Though there were
definitely horrors to recall and address, such as the deaths of two innocent
players, there was also something else Mulder didn't want to forget.

He was pumped. He couldn't remember the last time his adrenaline was so
pumped up. He turned on the radio and managed to find a station that was
having a Kinks marathon. He loved the Kinks! This was the icing on the
cake! His fingers were tapping nonstop to the music. When "Never Met a Girl
Like You Before" came on, he couldn't help thinking of the computer-generated
character of Maitreya. He truly had never met a girl like her.

That was until he saw RamboScully in action. Put some leather on that woman
and she was ready to kick some Maitreya butt! And it was a good thing,
because his own sorry butt was getting knocked down to the mat one too many
times. His partner went and did her usual heroics and saved the day. Again.

Mulder found himself unconsciously singing along to the next song played on
the radio. He startled a bit as he listened to the words a little more
carefully and wondered if Scully knew well that song fit their relationship?
He sang quietly to a word here and there. "Set me free, little girl, I don't
want no one, if I can't have you to myself, I don't need nobody else, so if I
can't have you to myself, Set me free, Set me free."

"Shit," he muttered to himself, but Scully picked up on it.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he said as he quickly turned off the radio.

"Gee, I kind of liked that," she said with a slight pout. "I actually
remember 'You Really Got Me.' Of course if anyone ever asked me which group
sang it, I'd have never in a million years guessed the Kinks," Scully said

She received no reply, so she asked about something she was sure would get a
reaction. "So, you really thought that game was entertaining?"

"Hell, yes!" he replied even faster than Scully had anticipated.

"But Mulder, there was no thinking to that game. All you did was load 'em up
and shoot 'em up!" she disagreed just as quickly.

"Strategy, Scully. You still needed to develop a strategy," he retorted.

"Oh please, Mulder. How much strategy do you need to load and shoot?" she
replied shaking her head, and then added, "Now if you want to talk strategy,
let's go back to the days of the true RPGs. Games like 'Link' and 'Zelda,'
and 'Dragon Warriors.' Of course if you wanted straight adventure there was
always 'Super Metroid.'

They arrived at the Police Station's parking lot and Mulder pulled into a
space. Before either got out of the car, however, Mulder retorted with an
admiring expression, "Scully, you're throwing those titles around like
someone whose been around the block with them a few times."

"I've been known to kick a little Metroid butt in my day," Scully, turning
toward him, said seriously.

"Oh, Scully, you gotta know you are turning me on," leered Mulder.

"About damned time," Scully muttered who after spending an evening in a room
full of testosterone was feeling a little turned on herself.

"What was that?" he asked.

"Nothing, nothing at all," replied Scully, not realizing her muttering had
caught Mulder's attention.

"No, it's not nothing, damn it," he said, his jaw clenched. "It's been
'about damned time' for a while, Agent Scully; you just chose never to notice

"What the hell are you talking about?" asked a now very agitated Scully. She
couldn't decide if it was Mulder's words or his attitude that was irking her.

Or perhaps it was the memory of him in that VR costume. That particular
vision was certainly enough to get her agitated. But she couldn't understand
what was getting Mulder all hot and bothered, though she knew she looked
pretty hot in black leather herself.

"What the hell am I talking about? Jeeze, when the hell are you going to cut
me a break, Scully? I say 'you're turning me on,' and you say it's 'about
damned time?' How many times and different ways do I need to tell you that
you 'turn me on?'"

He looked away for a moment to try and regain some of the self-control he
knew he'd lost. When he faced her again, however, his expression was almost
sorrowful. "I once told you were my one in five billion, and that you were
my touchstone. When you didn't seem to get the full meaning of those words,
I just out and out told you that I loved you, but you responded with a roll
of your eyes and an 'oh, brother.'

"When I kissed you on New Year's Eve, and in case you don't remember, it was
that kiss when you very nicely kissed me back, I'd hoped that would confirm
for you my feelings for you. So what did I hear from you? Only your
lackluster agreement that the world didn't end. Not much of a smile, Scully.
I mean it was there and then it was gone. Finito. Ciao, baby!

"And do I get so much as a hug? No, you can't manage that either; while I
try to warm the frost between us with my arm around your shoulder, you just
walk out stiff as a board. So, do me a favor, do not tell me that it's about
'damned time, because, quite frankly, it sure does royally piss me off."

Scully looked at Mulder as if for the first time. His eyes were intense, and
she could swear he was breathing harder now than before. When Mulder felt
something, he felt it with his entire soul. She was about to say something,
anything to try and break the tension in the car, but he cut her off.

"I don't know what else to do to convince you of how I feel about you. I've
showed you, I've told you; what do you want from me, damn it? An engraved
invitation?" With that Mulder opened the door and got out of the car. He
slammed it shut, hard. And he walked away from the car without looking back.

Scully watched as he walked toward the building. She knew he would go into
the police station, probably piss one of the locals off, and they would exile
him to an out of the way, back office, where no one would have to listen to
his pissing and moaning.

Then Mulder would pace back and forth around the office for about ten minutes
before he'd calm himself down enough to work. Finally, he'd sit down and
make an attempt to get the report started. She also knew he would fail
miserably, because her partner would soon become contrite, depressed, and
soon thereafter assume total responsibility for the fight. Why? Because
that's just the kind of guy he was.

A guy that was obviously totally, and completely, in love with her.

What the hell was the matter with her? Scully wondered. An engraved
invitation, indeed. And then Scully had an idea, and rather than follow her
partner to the cramped, out of the way office, as he probably expected, she
entered the station house with a smile on her face and batted her eyes. She
asked the desk sergeant with her ingratiating smile if there was another
office available with a printer and telephone hookup for her laptop.

"Why, of course Agent Scully!" responded Sergeant O'Malley.

Scully couldn't help but smile to herself. Maitreya might have kicked some
virtual butt, but no one could wrap the locals around their little finger
like Dana Scully.

She opened up her briefcase and pulled out her laptop and some of her own,
better quality laser paper. She turned on the small computer, brought up the
desired program, and set to work.

She had an awful lot of time to make up for.


Mulder sat at the desk, staring at the practically blank computer screen.
He'd practically worn a hole in the floor of the office before he finally sat
down to try and get the report done. That was a little over an hour ago.

He couldn't believe Scully hadn't joined him in this God forsaken closet they
called an office. Well, no, that wasn't really true. He could believe it;
he kicked himself a dozen or so times for the way he spoke to his partner.
She didn't deserve that; in fact it occurred to him, albeit a little late,
that Scully had finally provided an opening for him and he reacted like a
complete idiot.

He easily imagined that a door had been slammed shut and would probably
remain shut forever more.

Mulder decided it was time to give it up and so he shut down the computer.
With some luck, his partner might loan him her laptop and he would finish it
up back at the motel that evening. Of course, it would probably be an
evening without his partner, he thought miserably.

He stood up and walked over to the door to the office. As he reached for his
jacket, he noticed an envelope on the floor. Mulder hesitated for only a
second and picked it up. It was addressed in a calligraphy script to 'Mr.
Fox W. Mulder.'

He opened it up and found a single folded piece of heavy stationary, with
what appeared to be more fancy writing. Mulder couldn't imagine what it was,
but he blinked his eyes clear and read what was written.

And as he read, a smile began to form on his lips.

Dr. Dana Katherine Scully
would be most honored if
Mr. Fox William Mulder
would join her in a
partnership of the heart.

This partnership, having
actually begun seven years ago,
would be binding &
guaranteed for life.

Please RSVP as soon as possible.

Mulder waited for a moment or two before he put his jacket on and then took a
thoughtful, deep breath. Then, he opened the basement door and faced with
what he considered the most beautiful pair of blue eyes in the entire world,
Mulder rasped, "I accept."

End (See? I told you it was a vignette!)

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