Author: Pattie

Title: Special Agent Man, Special Agent Woman

Rated: PG

Category: MSR, SA

Summary: Scully puts her feelings for Mulder in a newspaper
greeting.

Spoilers: Season 5

Feedback: patfiler2016@outlook.com Received warmly, good
or bad news. Responded to promptly.

Archive: Gossamer, any other nice home. Please ask and ye
shall receive!

Disclaimer: CC, 1013, Fox Studios all own the characters
and the original series, I do not make money of this effort,
and I do not intend any copyright infringement.



Well, those good old stores were gearing up for one
of the most important and lucrative days of the year, and
Dana Scully was aware of it most acutely. Only a few days
ago, the Boxing Day Sales had taken place with wild
blow-outs and generous price reductions. Two more weeks
to go, and the big day was being advertised all over the
place, almost all over the world.

"Valentine's Day", she muttered to herself as she walked
through the streets of her Georgetown neighbourhood on a
snowy morning in late January. "Red satin, lace ribbons,
heart-shaped boxes of candy, and all that fuss." Maybe she
was just lonely; maybe she was a cynic. All she knew was that
the day was becoming a sad one for her and she had, in the
past few years, become aware of why this was.

She picked up a morning paper and gave the news stand vendor
his money. This was Saturday, so why not have a nice, hot
coffee around the corner and then get to the chores and
errands?

As Scully sat in the coffee shop, reading the paper, she
noticed a few couples huddled together intimately, enjoying
each other's company and munching on donuts. There was a
feeling of emptiness that swept over her. She went on sipping
her coffee, and read the headlines, flipping the pages as she
glanced at the most important stories.

Then came the last straw. A large newspaper advertisement
that read: "Post your lovelines to your Sweetie on
Valentine's Day on our special personals pages for only... "
Well, it happens, in every city, every year in every paper,
right?

She walked home ever so sadly and made her decision: If she
hadn't the courage to say so before and in person, this year
she would say it with a few lines in the paper that Mulder
most read at home. Even if they were on the road on a case,
there would be that ad staring him in the face on the day for
lovers! And she would feel no shame in posting that ad.

That afternoon, she went to the newspaper offices of both
their respective dailies, and ordered up her lines, paying
for the space with free abandon--a sense of freedom swept
over her heart.

A week before Valentine's Day, she began to feel edgy,
restless. Was she doing the right thing? Could she cancel
the ads? Yes. She could even leave the state for a few days,
as things were slow at the X-Files Office, but she generally
had no reason to leave town unless it was vacation time or
a special holiday. Her edginess did not go unnoticed by her
partner, Fox Mulder.

As she swung her leg and tapped her fingers nervously at a
meeting with Skinner, he noted the movements and remembered
that he had seen her doing the very same things at the desk
in their office. A Psychologist is well-versed in body language,
and hers said *nervous* in neon lights. He made a mental note
during the meeting to speak to his partner later about her
anxiety.

It was after lunch when he decided to broach the subject.
Scully was typing a summary of the past month's repairs that
had not been made to the office, as she and Mulder had
requested.

"Scully?"

"Yeah? Umm, did you want to add the fluorescent light over
the door to the hallway?"

"Scully. Look up from the work for a minute. I'd like to
talk to you."

Scully typed in her last words so as not to lose her train of
thought, then glanced at Mulder. *Oh no* she thought, *he
knows*. "Okay. I'm all ears."

"Do you always toe tap and fidget or is it just a recent
hobby?"

"Wha--?"

"You know what I mean. Seems like you're worried about
something, or nervous. Maybe it would help to talk to someone.
Of course, it's entirely up to you, I'm only offering to lend
an ear."

*If you did hear, you'd freak and I'd faint*, she thought. "I
guess it's just boredom. You know: mid-winter, dark days,
slow work weeks. Really, Mulder. I'm fine."

"You sure it's not high blood pressure or something? I mean,
your face just turned beet red." Mulder leaned over the desk
and peered closely at her face.

"Maybe I just don't like being closely examined," she tried
to snap. "Look, Mulder, I'm sorry. I-- I didn't mean to do
that. Can we just get this wrapped up so we can go for
coffee?"

"Sure. But you would tell me if something was wrong,

wouldn't you?"

"Yeah, Mulder. Let's get back to work." Somehow, Scully
felt it was going to be one long week.

As February 12 arrived, she went over the words in her ad
a dozen times before figuring she wasn't going to get a
good night's sleep. Was she wrong in doing this? Had she
been terribly presumptuous that Mulder would want to see
her ad?

TO A SPECIAL AGENT MAN:

If you like seeking out oddballs
And getting mud on your coat,
And having all your world cluttered
By some girl sent to spy,
If you like ladies with M.D.'s,
Then you're my kind of guy.
If you think I'm a cynic,
Then just ask who I'd date,
'Cause I don't have another.
(But my brother you hate!)

Happy Valentine's Day,

A SPECIAL AGENT WOMAN

"What the heck have I gotten myself into?" she cried at two in
the morning on February 13. She tried to call both papers to
cancel the ads, but it was past their deadlines for that sort of
thing. The pages were being set up and were almost ready to go.
Besides, there had been too many "chickens" who had called at
the last moment in the past, she was told. There went another
sleepless night.

She finally had some sleep when she arrived home from the office
on the evening of February 13th. A bizarre dream invaded her
slumber as she dreamed a scenario centered around the theme, *What
if I never ever told the guy and lost him forever and any hope of
ever having him know?*

Thus. she resolved that she would go back to sleep, safe in the
thought that tomorrow morning she would put the classified ads,
with the Valentine's Greetings, hers circled, right on his desk.

To her amazement, it was so easy to do. To her utter surprise,
Mulder was late, and when he did arrive, he had a dozen roses for
her. They were the deepest red she had ever seen. Red, for
deeply passionate love.

"I read in the paper this morning that the scent of roses cheers
you up," he said with a grin. "Happy Valentine's Day, Cynical Spy
Girl."

"That's just what I was to wish you," she said sheepishly. Then a
wide grin overtook her face as she saw Mulder read the circled ad.

"Say, you do get around. Two newspapers," Mulder remarked. He
grabbed her around the waist, looked into her shocked eyes, and
said, "You know, I've always loved secret lovers."

"Me too," she sighed. As she searched his lips for what she wanted
to know, she was assured one thing: No more sad Valentine's Days
for her.

END