Like a Valentine

Part Ten

"Here Kiddo, you can carry this box."
"I got this!"
Emily packs in one of the smallest boxes of the bunch. Mulder even pretends to carefully hand it off like it might be fragile and heavy as he does.
"Be careful! Don't want to pull a muscle there!"
Emily takes on the task as willing and determined as ever. She carries that box through the door to her mother's apartment with vigor. Scully smiles as she passes her daughter through the door and back out to the curb where Mulder's U-Haul is parked.
"You've got a lot of stuff, Mulder. I'm starting to think we should have gone through everything and considered donating a lot of it."
"I did! I got rid of a lot of my things."
Mulder winks at her as if she knows exactly what he's talking about. But of course, she doesn't.
"Well, what'd you get rid of? All your magazines?"
There's a silence between the two before Scully busts out laughing.
"Are you kidding me?"
Mulder's trying his best to stifle a laugh or a smile. He was a little proud of himself when he'd handed off all those boxes of what used to be a pretty hefty collection to Frohike.
"Yeah, well...just imagine walking in on Emily finding one of them."
Scully nods her appreciation before pressing to her toes to further that thank you.
"Oh, I get a reward...I'm sure I could get rid of more junk in here... what would that get me?"
"Hmm. A happier woman in your life. More room to move about..."
"Oh come on, Scully. You're telling me you don't want this green lava lamp to spruce up the living room? I'm sure our guests will think we're real cool."
"Real cool? What are we stoner deadheads?"
"Hey, there's nothing wrong with stoner deadheads!"
Scully rolls her eyes before readjusting her little ponytail.
"Alright, alright. I'll work on decluttering next week!"
"This weekend!"
She counters, grabbing for a box and beelining towards the door before he can reply.

Mulder manages to go through almost all of the boxes he labeled "stuff" and place most of it into the boxes Scully labeled "donations". Every once in awhile she'd saunter back into the living room to check on his progress, and when he spent too much time going down memory lane with some old, what looked to be, baseball cards, she'd nonchalantly remind him that Emily's birthday party is in three days and that the place needs to be cleaned and cleared of boxes.

By the weekend, Mulder had all of his clothes put away in their designated drawers or spaces in the closet. His shoes were neatly placed on a shoe rack as well- that was all Scully's doing. Everything else either found a new home or was given a rightful spot where she wanted it ( Because in this apartment there is no junk room ). Sadly, Mulder chose not to keep that green lava lamp that hadn't been plugged in probably since college. His computer now sits on his desk in the corner of their room, and that infamous leather couch of his was put into Emily's room because she had a complete meltdown insisting that THAT'S MULDER'S COUCH! WE CAN'T THROW MULDER'S COUCH AWAY! At that point, Scully couldn't win. Mulder tried to match her authoritative tone but gave in way too easily to the child's demands. His basketball goal sits in a rented storage space ( he even whispered I'll be back for you before closing the garage-style door ). By the time he recycles all the empty boxes and takes out the trash, Scully begins the deep cleaning phase.

"Nope. Get up. We're cleaning for the party tomorrow."
"Mmm, ten minutes, Scully."
"Nope. Sorry. If you'd moved in last week I would have said yes."
"I was in Tennessee last week..."
"Uh-huh...but there are also these cool people called movers...and if you pay them, they'll move your stuff!"
Mulder groans, peeling himself off the couch. He doesn't hold any of this against her. He knows her all too well. Scully is a perfectionist. She wants this place sparkling for her guests. But most of all, she wants her daughter to have the best birthday every single year.

And so they clean. and clean. and clean....and clean until there's nothing left to clean ( in his opinion ). In Scully's, there's ALWAYS something to clean.
"Scully it's almost midnight! If we don't go to bed now we'll never get up."
"Says the insomniac..."
He can tell she's dragging. Emily fell asleep on the rug watching cartoons hours ago and he'd carried her off to bed. She was all cleaned out too.
"There's so much to do tomorrow...."
Mulder's got his hands on her shoulders, coaxing her down the hall to their bedroom.
"Yes, but that's tomorrow, not tonight."
"I've got to get up early and pick up the cake...and then I've got to pick up the big gifts from mom's because she can't get them into her car...and"
"--And we'll do it all! Tomorrow."
Scully sits on the edge of the bed drowsy as ever.
"Tomorrow. I'll get up early and make breakfast,"
Scully snorts at that.
"I will! I can make breakfast! ... anyways, then I'll get Emily up, fed, dressed, and keep her out of the way until it's time. You've got nothing to worry about."
This time Scully's quiet. She can't argue with that. Mulder grabs for her hands and helps her to her feet.
"Come on, get some rest, Scully."
Finally! He's the one who gets to use that line.
The two in such a tired state is quite a sight! They've got this whole teamwork thing down. Mulder tosses her one of his shirts that he knows will swallow her but she loves to sleep in, and Scully actually tosses off the decorative pillows, letting them land wherever they might fall. Yeah! she's that tired.
Not even five minutes pass and they're both in bed. Lights off, quiet house, neither having to move much to find that comfortable angle.
"Teamwork."
He says, and Scully jumps a little at the abrupt sound of his voice. She was teetering on the outskirts of sleep.
"Mmm, uh-huh. Night Mulder."
"Goodnight Scully."
In the night the two gravitate towards one another like opposite sides of a magnet. She's got her head resting half on his pillow and half on his shoulder. Their legs a tangled mess. But surprisingly neither move away - they've become so very used to one another. It feels more than right.