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Dana’s running late and she can’t find her hairbrush. She checks the motel bathroom, knocking the little shampoo bottles askew in the process. She goes through her suitcase, her purse. Nothing. Irritated, she stands in front of the mirror and uncaps a lipstick. At least she can look a little put together in front of the Burlington police department.
Knock at the door. “Housekeeping,” says Mulder.
Dana blots her lips with a tissue, then goes to open the door. “Thirty seconds and I’ll be ready,” she says by way of greeting.
Mulder, of course, looks perfectly professional, with his well-tailored charcoal suit and combed hair. Clearly his motel room didn’t have a faulty alarm clock. There’s a smile in his eyes, but she doesn’t have time to gaze into them.
“Help me find my hairbrush, will you?” she says, frantically combing her hair with her fingers. It doesn’t do much.
“Good morning to you, too,” Mulder replies. “Where do you want me to look?”
“The bathroom, my suitcase. Anywhere.”
Mulder sits himself down on the motel bed and starts examining the contents of her suitcase. “There’s bras in here,” he remarks.
“Not helpful.” Dana checks the bathroom once again, then the shower, even though she never brushes her hair in the shower.
She joins him on the bed, intending to look through her suitcase again, but she’s sat on something hard. She pulls back the covers and there, in all its blessed glory, is the hairbrush.
“There you are!” she exclaims, at the same time Mulder declares, “Found it.”
She looks over at him curiously, hairbrush in her hand. He’s reaching into a pocket in her suitcase she hadn’t realized existed, and out of it he withdraws...
Well.
It’s definitely not a hairbrush.
In Mulder’s hand is a vibrator. A Hitachi Magic Wand, to be precise.
Time stands still. Dana can hear her heartbeat in her ears. A flush creeps up her neck and spills over her cheeks.
“Oh,” Mulder says, looking at the object in his hand. He blinks, then gingerly puts it back in the suitcase pocket.
“It’s not what you think,” Dana begins.
“Let me guess.” Mulder meets her eyes, and she can tell he’s suppressing a smile, which only makes her blush harder. “Neck massager?”
“If you must know, it was a gift from my sister. She was helping me pack last night and must have put it in as a prank. I’ve never so much as turned it on. Not that it’s any of your business,” she adds hastily.
“Scully, you know I’m not one to judge,” Mulder says earnestly. “There’s nothing wrong or shameful about taking pleasure in your own—”
“I don’t ,” Dana stresses. “I’m being completely honest when I say I’ve never used it before. Sorry to burst your bubble, Mulder.”
He shrugs. “Whatever you say.” He stands up and tilts his head toward the door. “Want me to wait for you in the car?”
She really, really does.
***
“I can’t believe it,” Melissa said, shaking her head. “I just can’t believe it.”
They were sitting on Dana’s bed, clothes and toiletries strewn about. Melissa was supposedly helping her pack for the drive later that day, but it seemed more like she was using it as an excuse to voice her opinion on Dana’s life choices.
“Not everyone is as absorbed in worldly pleasures as you,” Dana retorted. “Some of us have career aspirations.”
“But you work with him every day! You go to hotels together. Surely there have been opportunities ...”
“Oh, there certainly have been.” Dana moistened her lips. “But have you considered that’s exactly why I can’t jump my partner’s bones? Because I’d have to see him at work the very next day?”
“What you view as a drawback, I view as a bonus.”
“And that’s why we’re sisters, not twins.”
Melissa stuck her tongue out at her, and Dana felt a rush of affection. Melissa didn’t visit often enough. But maybe the issue was that Dana didn’t invite her over often enough. It was so easy to get caught up in the X-Files, to forget that she had a life outside the mysteries and conspiracies she investigated with Mulder. She cherished the reminder that she had loved ones completely untouched by that world. Loved ones who would mercilessly tease her for her nonexistent love life.
“All I’m saying is, if I had known he was up for grabs, I might’ve done more than just talk to him while you were taking your little nap.” Melissa wiggled her eyebrows.
“I was in a coma !” Dana balled up a pair of socks and threw it at her. “And you’re not allowed to seduce anyone from my job. I can have you disappeared for that, you know.”
“Well, you’re not in a coma anymore.” Melissa folded the socks and put them in the suitcase. “But fine, you and Agent Mulder are keeping it strictly professional. How enlightened of you. Please tell me you’re at least seeing someone , though?”
Dana shrugged.
“Dana! You need someone to take care of you.”
“I can take care of myself just fine, thanks.”
Melissa rolled her eyes. “Yeah, you’re a real tough girl. But don’t you ever get tired of it just being you and your vibrator?”
Dana picked up a blouse and began folding it, avoiding Melissa’s eyes. “That would be hard to do, given that I’ve never actually used the thing.”
“Dana!” Melissa exclaimed again. “That wand was expensive!”
“So take it back.” Dana got up and dug around in her closet until she found the vibrator, still in the box Melissa gave it to her in. She offered it to Melissa. “It’s in mint condition. I’m sure you could get a good price for it.”
“That’s not the point,” Melissa said, but she took the box anyway. “The contents of this box represent you, Dana Katherine Scully, chasing your pleasure. That’s all I want for you.”
“I—” Dana started, then bit her tongue. She had been about to say, I already am . But she didn’t think Melissa would understand. And if she did understand, well, that might be even worse.
“I’ll think about it,” she said instead. Melissa grinned.
***
The case is simple enough, just some light witchcraft by a cult worshipping the local lake monster. Whether or not the lake monster actually exists is dubious, but the cult members’ impact on the town is real, and she and Mulder convince them to find less destructive methods of worship.
Mulder doesn’t bring up the vibrator mishap at all. Dana’s grateful for that. It’s in the back of her mind for the duration of the day, though, gnawing at her and keeping her just a tiny bit on edge. She suspects it’s on Mulder’s mind, too, but she tries not to think about that.
They drive back to the motel in silence. It’s late, but not too late. They could get drinks. Neither of them suggest it. Dana looks out the window at the stars, some a part of vibrant constellations, but most twinkling alone, untethered.
In front of their adjacent motel rooms, Mulder pauses, seemingly searching for the right words. Dana watches as he scratches his neck, then puts his hands in his pockets.
“I’m sorry about this morning,” he mumbles. “With the—you know.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” she replies, which is true.
“It’s fine , Mulder,” she adds when he doesn’t say anything, which is a little less true.
“I just want you to know,” he murmurs. “I don’t judge you. If you use it. Or if you don’t use it. Either way, it’s none of my business.”
Dana takes a slow, deep breath. She forces a smile. “I appreciate that. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Alone in her room, after she’s gotten ready for bed and changed into her pajamas, Mulder’s words still rattle around in her head like pinballs. She paces, fingers itching for a cigarette she doesn’t have. It’s 10:16 p.m. and she’s at once restless and exhausted, wired and weary. It takes a lot of energy keeping herself from thinking about the things she doesn’t want to think about.
She finds the remote and turns on the TV. The MTV channel is on. Madonna’s “Like a Prayer.” Dana is neither a Madonna fan nor an avid music video connoisseur, but she sits and watches the entire video start to finish. Then she switches the TV off, Madonna’s high-pitched voice still ringing in her ears.
It isn’t fair. Mulder makes no secret of his pornography hobby. He doesn’t seem to feel any shame about it, even when he probably should (Dana’s all for tasteful nudity, but those calendars are beyond tacky).
But it’s different for her. Because she’s a woman, and because she’s Dana Katherine Scully. The very thought that Mulder might think she likes to pleasure herself—that the concept of her pleasuring herself has entered his brain at all—makes her want to dig a hole in the ground and bury herself in it.
It also, unfortunately, makes her a little wet.
Dana unzips her suitcase forcefully and pulls out the wretched thing. The size of it is intimidating, not in the way that the size of a penetrative object is intimidating, but simply because its size makes it impossible to ignore. The wand commands attention shamelessly. No wonder Mulder mistakenly pulled it out of her suitcase like a mixed-up magician’s trick.
Mulder’s hand, wrapped around the vibrator’s oblong handle. Dana has a sharp intake of breath and pushes the thought away. Puts it in a locked little mental box and sends that box to the far recesses of her mind.
If she’s going to do this, she has to have some standards.
Dana scours the room for an electrical outlet that actually works and plugs in the vibrator. She fetches a fresh hand towel from the bathroom. It’s soft and bright white and clean-smelling, and she puts it to her face and inhales.
She turns off all the lights except for the lamp beside her bed so she can see what she’s doing. The towel feels comfortable against her cunt. She switches on the wand’s lower setting and just stares dumbly as it buzzes against nothing. Is she really about to do this? What is she trying to prove? And who is she trying to prove it to?
You know I’ll take you there , Madonna sings in her mind. Dana stops thinking and brings the head to her clit and— oh .
Even through the towel, it’s good. It’s so, so good. She masturbates regularly, of course, but it’s a furtive, hurried thing, her objective being to come before her hand starts cramping up. And it’s entirely different from sex, wrenching her pleasure from another person’s body. This is languid, luxurious, the vibrations delicious and sensuous. It makes her feel in control. It makes her feel powerful.
When you call my name
It’s like a little prayer
She has her usual fantasies, of course: particularly talented ex-lovers mixed with superficial celebrity crushes mixed with authority figures she’d found attractive at one point or another in her life.
I’m down on my knees
I wanna take you there
They’re nice fantasies. Safe, dependable, comforting. They get the job done.
In the midnight hour
I can feel your power
There’s one fantasy that likes to knock on the door of her mind. Not just during masturbation or even sex. At inopportune times: when she steps into the basement office in the morning; waiting in line at the airport; driving along endless stretches of road to reach the next case in Nowhere, USA. The door is shut tight against this fantasy, triple padlocked so it can’t get in.
Just like a prayer
You know I’ll take you there
Dana pinches her nipple and bites her lower lip and thinks about loosening the locks just a little bit.
Just like a prayer
Your voice can take me there
That image again, Mulder’s hand on the vibrator. Her vibrator.
Just like a muse to me
You are a mystery
Nothing wrong or shameful . I just want you to know . I don’t judge you .
Just like a dream
You are not what you seem
She unlocks the door and lets it swing open, and the fantasy tumbles in.
Just like a prayer, no choice
Your voice can take me there
In Dana’s fantasy, she’s stretched out on her bed, naked, her back arched, her vibrator pressed to her clit, and Mulder is there, too. He’s lying next to her, his body facing hers like a sunflower aching for the sun, his hand resting on her hand holding the wand. Crucially, he is not the one holding the vibrator to her body; that’s all her. But his hand is on top of hers, feeling the way she stimulates herself. The weight of his hand on hers both intimate and electrifying.
He’s hard, and sometimes his cock rubs up against her skin and she whimpers, but he’s not looking for her to make him come, or paying any attention to his own arousal at all, because he’s entirely focused on her, transfixed by how beautiful and perfect and resplendent she is. He’ll lean over to kiss her face, her neck, mouth at her earlobe, graze his teeth against her shoulder and collarbone. But mostly he just watches her in awe.
Her eyes meet his, and she sees in them his admiration and affection for her, and then she can’t hold his gaze any longer because her eyes are rolling back into her head. He murmurs things to her, nice, sweet things about how she’s so wonderful and special and good, how she’s the best thing in his life, how much he likes seeing her like this, how proud he is of her for making herself feel good, interspersing his words with little kisses peppered on her bare skin. His presence is so intense and so gentle.
And then she comes, and from her body spills forth a white light, pure and brilliant and blinding. Mulder is bathed in it, enveloped in it, and he’s awestruck, and she’s radiant, and everything is right.
It’s like a prayer
Your voice can take me there
***
Despite the broken motel alarm clock, Dana wakes up early. She stretches and showers, humming a love song as she washes her hair. She has enough time to go down to the lobby’s complimentary breakfast and grab a muffin for herself. She takes a bagel for Mulder.
She hands him the bagel in the car. “No iced tea?” Mulder pretend-pouts.
“They were all out. You snooze, you lose.”
They start the drive back home. Dana fiddles with the radio dial. She finally finds a station without too much static, and the song comes bursting clear through the rental car speakers.
Life is a mystery
Everyone must stand alone
I hear you call my name
And it feels like home
Dana can’t help but smile.
Mulder glances over at her at a stoplight. “What are you smiling about?”
She just shrugs. He smiles too, that goofy expression he gets when she has both delighted and confounded him. “You keeping secrets from me, Scully?”
“Always,” she tells him. Outside, a red-winged blackbird arcs high in the morning light.