Chapter Text
Scully awakens with a start and sits up in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room. It all comes back to her in an instant.
The Falls at Arcadia.
Rob and Laura Petrie.
They’re undercover.
She groans and flops back down onto the pillows. Staring at the vaulted ceiling her mind drifts to the previous evening. She thought she was ready for this assignment but pretending to be half of the ideal new neighbors was more difficult than she anticipated. And Mulder’s doting husband routine hadn’t really helped. It rankled her for reasons she still can’t quite explain.
No, that’s not true, the pestering voice in her head reminds her.
It’s attached to the inconvenient truth she keeps hidden behind the door she constructed in her heart. The one she doesn’t acknowledge for fear of giving it a name. Over the years she’s reinforced it, added more locks. Despite her best efforts though, she’s recently felt that door starting to crack under the strain.
She rubs her eyes warily, her hair snagging on the new jewelry on her left hand. She brings the rings up to her eye level to study them, the diamonds glittering in the early morning light filtering through the large bedroom windows. It’s a beautiful set with a three stone engagement ring and a simple platinum band nestled against it. Elegant. Classic. Something she would have chosen for herself. Her hand feels heavy at the unbidden thoughts and she lets it drop to her side with a sigh.
A sound from downstairs catches her attention and she grabs her robe from a side chair, sliding it on to see what her partner is up to. He’d insisted he was fine sleeping on the couch but part of her felt slightly guilty for taking the whole king sized bed for herself. Besides, they’d shared a smaller bed in Kansas after the flying cow incident. However, it had been slightly awkward when they’d awoken the next morning wrapped around each other.
Perhaps it was better this way after all.
She finds him in the kitchen in front of the stove, barefoot in a white t-shirt and blue plaid pajama pants, humming quietly to a song in his head. His hair is damp. He must have showered in the downstairs bathroom rather than wake her up to use the one off the master bedroom.
She leans against the wall separating the kitchen from the dining room and watches him silently for a few minutes. Speaking of playing house, she muses, a smile tugging at her lips. She’s mesmerized by the sight of him stirring eggs in a skillet while the coffee maker bubbles away in their kitchen.
No...not their kitchen.
The Petrie’s kitchen.
None of this is real.
She’s troubled by the slight ache in her heart as she absently rubs her thumb along the underside of her rings.
The toaster pops up and he turns towards it, retrieving the slices. He catches her out of the corner of his eye, fumbling the plate a bit. “Oh, hey Scully!” He manages not to drop the toast and deposits the plate on the kitchen island. “Hope I didn’t wake you.”
“No, you didn’t,” she replies, finally approaching him. The scent of his shower gel and freshly laundered shirt hits her as she stands close to him. She fights the powerful urge to bury her nose in his chest and clears her throat instead. “I didn’t know you could cook.”
“It’s just scrambled eggs,” he shrugs, turning off the burner and portioning them out between two more plates. He already has mugs of coffee set out as well as butter and jam. She realizes they’ve never actually cooked for each other in all the years they’ve spent together. It feels intimate, like an invisible line has been crossed.
She settles on a stool while he pulls a couple forks and knives from a box labeled “Kitchen” on the counter and places a set next to her. Taking his seat, he eyes her as she takes a bite of her eggs. “This is really good, Mulder,” she observes, offering him a soft smile.
“Thanks,” he murmurs shyly and busies himself with buttering a piece of toast.
Her eyes are drawn to his left hand as he eats. She slows her movements, distracted by how his wedding band complements his elegant fingers. Fiddling with her own rings again, she’s suddenly aware of the weight of them making her feel slightly off-center.
Married to Mulder.
It was absurd.
And yet…
“We should probably take those back to Big Mike,” he gestures with a nod to the box of dishes at the door, interrupting her thoughts.
“Oh...sure,” she says, finishing off her eggs and taking a sip of coffee. “I’ll just go change.” She picks up her plate and flatware and places them in the dishwasher. Turning back to him, she catches a wistful look in his eyes that’s gone again almost immediately. She picks up her mug, intending to take it upstairs with her. “Thanks again for making breakfast.”
“Anything for my wife,” he replies with a husky voice. Any hint of yesterday’s teasing is absent as he holds her gaze.
Her cheeks flush and she excuses herself as she quickly retreats up the stairs to the bedroom, willing her racing heart to slow. The realization hits her that if she’s not careful these next few days that meticulously constructed door is liable to burst wide open.