Title: Five Steps To Perfection
Authors: Fabi & Tissa
E-mail: gwoman@xfilesfan.com / mmptissa@yahoo.com
Rating: G (with the hell word) 
Category: V
Archive: Gossamer - yes. Others please ask first.
Keyword: M&S UST (CC already came up with RST at the dawn of the new
Millennium :P)
Spoilers: Millennium
Summary: Sometimes Mulder has too many excuses.

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Disclaimer: They were Carter's once. Now they belong to the fanfic
community, 'cause it sure makes a damn better use of them.

Fabi: What we gonna do tonight? 
Tissa: A fanfic to take over CC's TV show!

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Thanks to: Maggie, for her good-will and beta-reading express.

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Feedback: Will fill our hearts with joy and wonder!

***

Our fiction can be found at http://members.xoom.com/Tissa/FanFics/


*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


I woke to the smell of coffee, eggs, bacon, and toast. The 
incredible smell that says "breakfast" was followed closely by an 
equally incredible sight: Mulder, carrying me said breakfast on a 
tray.

Mulder had spent the night at my couch because I was a little weary 
after the events of the previous night... a bunch of zombies, a
new millennium, Mulder's kiss.

I felt the pressure of dark thoughts clouding my morning. Mulder got 
to kiss the girl last night... was he having second thoughts? Was 
this apology time? 

Of course, it's entirely possible that the Mulder I know has been 
replaced by some wannabe clone. Maybe I'd better get up and try to 
find the real one. 

Then he smiled gently at me. And my thoughts turned to 'oh Mulder, 
how sweet of you!' 

And then he did the inevitable. He joked. Some stupid line about how
he couldn't fold the blankets with only one functioning arm, so he
decided to feed me instead.

I hate that he has to joke about this stuff. Why can't he just go
for simply being sweet? I guess he has no idea of how adorable I
think it is.

***

"Hey Scully, wanna go out for a walk?" I look up at him puzzled,
surprised he even dared suggest such thing on a Monday evening, when
we're still caught up in our traditional maddening rush to put 
things together after our well-deserved pause on the weekend. 

"Come on, G-woman, it's almost 7, the sun is setting. Why don't we 
watch it, for once?"  I sense a smile forming on my mouth to greet 
his own as I agree with him. What's wrong with being a bad girl 
sometimes and sneaking out for no reason? I rise from the chair I 
was seated in, grab my purse and head for the door Mulder already 
holds open for me. 

Once we step outside the FBI building I hear him say, "Thank 
goodness, Scully. We were starting to smell like mold. That'd be 
murder on my allergies."


***

I'm just finishing a report when my cell phone rings. 

"Scully"

"Hi, it's me."

"Hi Mulder."

"I'm calling because... well, for no reason actually. I just wanted 
to hear the sound of your voice."

I smile, thinking that Mulder's phone manners have just reached 
perfection.

"What do you want me to say to you, Mulder?"

"Oh well... my VCR broke and Chantal is on vacation. Would you help 
me out here, Scully?"

***

It's been raining for four hours now. Not a calm, silent thin rain,
but a noisy one, heavy, with thunder and lightning as an extra 
bonus. 

Mulder and I have been out on the field the whole day, looking for
information here, interrogating someone there. We didn't even have a 
decent lunch. Not that it surprises me, but I confess that the least 
I would expect on a day like today would be some real food in a real 
restaurant. Instead, here I am, standing at the door of Mc Donald's 
at 3 p.m., staring at the pouring rain and wondering how the hell
I'm going to get the car, which is parked almost two blocks from 
here, without ruining my fries. 

I must have mumbled something aloud, because before I had the chance
to complain, I hear Mulder telling me to wait while he goes to get 
the car.

"If something's gonna shrink here, let it be my trench coat. You're
tiny enough already, Scully."

What a romantic.


***

We're eating at this deli that has just opened two blocks away from 
the Hoover Building. For once Mulder accepted my suggestion of lunch 
place.

Apparently I've been daydreaming for longer than I thought, because
when I come out of my reverie Mulder is waving this huge bowl of
vanilla ice cream topped with hot chocolate fudge, whipped cream and
a profusion of cherries.

And I haven't even finished my turkey salad.

Mulder smiles at me, and I blush. I've been caught daydreaming. This
is showtime for Mulder. I can almost taste the joke that's coming. 

Instead, his smile turns shy.

"So... since you've been poking your food for at least 20 minutes, I
thought you were probably finished."

Then he hands me the ice cream bowl.

"Here Scully. Your favorite. I even remembered to ask for multiple
cherries."

No jokes. No excuses. Only honest, sweet Mulder.

I guess I don't really need to daydream anymore.

END.

***

Authors' notes: We're from Brazil, so English is not our first 
language. We hope we didn't offend anyone with our usage of the 
English idiom. So please, if you find any mistakes, drop us a line.