Can't you see the way you look at one another,
The restaurant is beautiful. Scully cannot believe it. The walls are painted in rich red and gold colours, a huge mural painting occupies the ceiling, with a huge glass chandelier. In the very centre of the huge dining area is a beautiful stain glass skylight.
The restaurant is the stuff from fairy tales. Dana looks around at the other diners. They're older people, everyone is dressed fancy, and even though she has put a lot of effort in she still feels largely underdressed. She's been in awe since she got here, she's fallen in love with the place.
She can't stop herself from saying thank you every five minute, or things like 'seriously this is far too much'
'Mike, honestly, this is far too much' She had said as they entered, and a thousand times more since then.
'Nonsense' had been his reply, 'anything for my girl' And that had made her grin from ear to ear, given her butterflies in her stomach. She feels so special, like a Disney princess or something akin to that.
The meal is nice. The date is going as well as ever. Dana is trying so hard to ignore the guilt in her stomach. She really wishes Mike wouldn't have gone to all this trouble, she would have been okay going to McDonalds or something for god-sake. And that's the only con, she decides, he tries too hard.
But she smiles. And she's thankful. She's the luckiest girl in the world, she keeps telling herself. Any girl would kill for this.
This is what I want.
☾
Fox Mulder is drunk, really, really drunk. He ambles through the streets of London, wobbling slightly from side to side as he does so. He gives a cheerful hello to every stranger he passes, some smile back, some hurry past him.
He can't rid the taste of stale beer from his mouth and he really just wants to throw up.
He can hear his father in his head, 'seriously Fox. You are making a fool of yourself, you are an embarrassment.' He shrugs. Sorry mum.
Non of the bars will take him, he's in far too much of a state already, and it's only 11pm. Lightweight. He's already had a fight in one bar. So now sporting a busted lip and what is sure to be a black eye the following morning, he decides to give up and go home. /There's plenty of other times to be a reckless student/, he decides.
But which way is home?
He has no idea. He decides to head, in the direction that he thinks is north. He just hopes for the best.
He walks for about ten minutes, when he finds himself on one of the much busier streets. It's familiar. At least he thinks so. The lights are bright, the sounds of the city, the cars, the people, are all amplified in his drunken state. He is aware of a headache coming on. There's a ringing in his ears.
He sees her coming out of a restaurant, even from a mile away. She looks beautiful dressed up like that. Stunning. Her red hair is so vibrant, mixing in with the colours of the night life. For a second he thought it was some drunken apparition. She's laughing and smiling. He stops and stares, without really knowing what he's doing. He finds himself smiling too.
Before he's aware of it, his feet are dragging him towards her.
She's twenty paces from him now,
Ten,
Stop, he is practically screaming inside his head.
At five he comes to a halt.
She's with a boy. He's making her laugh. He kisses her cheek. Suddenly he feels rather sick and he has no idea why.
He starts towards them. In his head he's shouting stop, what the fuck are you doing. Turn around. But still he continues towards them.
Two paces and she spots him.
'You again?' He thinks he hears a hint of glee to her tone. He hopes. Maybe that's just the booze.
'Me again' he says, confidently and with a smile. He's happy to see her.
The boy she's with begins eyeing Mulder up and down.
'Mike' he says, extending an arm. He's created a sort of barrier between Mulder and Scully. Fox frowns.
'Fox' Says Mulder.
'If you don't mind, uh, Fox. I'd like to get my girlfriend home'
He's about to say, sure no problem, okay, have a nice night. But before he has the chance, Coffee shop girl interjects.
'Do you want a lift home Fox?' She says, checking out the boy before her, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out he's clearly way past drunk. 'I'm sure Mike wouldnt mind. It's on the way to mine anyway isn't it?'
She guesses this by the fact he must be staying in uni accommodation.
'Oh no, no I couldn't' Mulder says, catching the look Mr generic is giving him.
'It's no bother, right Mike?' The redhead says again, looking up at Mike. The way she looks at him makes Mulder ache and he doesn't know why. He doesn't like it.
''Course not' Mike says, through gritted teeth, clearly it is, Mulder fathoms.
'Oh, well okay then. Thank you' And it's sincerity in his voice. He smiles weekly at the girl, and she smiles back.
The ride home is awkward, to say the least. No one says a word to one an other. It's dead silence. Mike hasn't even put the radio on.
/he's one of those guys/ Mulder thinks to himself.
'Here's fine' Mulder says, as the approach the street which harbours the row of shops, including the familiar cafè. 'And honestly thanks again'
'Don't mention it' Mike says, without even bothering to look at him.
He slides out of the back seat, out into the chilly night air. 'See ya 'round, coffee shop girl' he says slamming the door behind him.
This makes her smile. 'See you around'
And with that, Fox Mulder watches as the car pulls off, leaving him behind, leaving him alone. He sighs. His chest heavy.
He waits a couple of minutes before turning and heading in the direction of home.
☾
It's three in the morning and Dana Scully is still awake. She's laying in bed staring blankly up at the cracked ceiling. Staring into space, she is lost in her own thoughts.
She's thinking of him. His messy brown hair, they way it sometimes hangs over his tiny eyes. She's thinking about his smile, the plumpness of his soft pink bottom lip. His voice, the American twang.
She remembers his face when he was saying goodbye. His lips turned up into a smile. A gentle wave of his hand.
She has not stopped thinking about, about him since. She had not stopped thinking about him as the car had pulled away, or as it chugged another couple of minutes down the street, she had not stopped thinking about him as Mike had pulled up to the curb outside the decaying block of flats, she had not stopped thinking about him as Mikes lips crashed against hers as he kissed her goodbye. She had not stopped thinking about him as she had climbed the many stairs to her front door, or as she unlocked the door, struggling to put the key in the keyhole. She had not stopped thinking about him as she changed into her pyjamas. She had not stopped thinking about him as she climbed into bed, clutching the blankets tightly to her chest.
She had not stopped thinking about him.
She was thinking of him still as she finally slid into a state of sleep.