Clinical Detatchment II

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Aaaaaaannnnnnddddd THE FINAL PART IS HERE! Thank you so much for your support! And another thanks to @admiralty-xfd for being my love!

Side note, not to toot my

Clinical Detatchment II

She’d been doing good, in fact too good, at shutting her mind off to ignore any sounds coming from the other room. She tried to read her case files, get some work done, she even meditated. Aside from a few gasps, she was pretty confident she was doing a good job. Which is why the knocking startled her so badly.

Scully glanced at her watch, amazed by Mulder’s stamina, when she realized the lifetime that had passed had only been six minutes. Walking to the door, instead of relief, she was met with the biggest kicked puppy dog look she’d ever seen from him - pouty lip, glossy eyes, and all.

“Scully, I can’t focus because I’m anxious and I’m scared and I can’t get out of my head, but I don’t want to go to the doctor,” he rambled in a single breath.

Sighing, she opened the door for him to come in and he waddled in holding the towel to his still prominent bulge.

“What if you tried watching TV, just charge the Pay-Per-View to your card?” she asked.

“No TV,” he replied, his intonation implying he’d considered that option as well.

She was already mid-scoff when she looked around the room and realized that he was right. Of course they’d be in the one motel in America without a television.

“What do I do?” he asked in one of the most desperate tones she’d ever heard. She couldn’t blame him, if the situation were reversed, she’d be in a panic by now.

“First, I want you to take a deep breath. You need to calm down,” she commanded, taking a deep breath to lead by example and repeating the motion to get him to mimic her.

“I would have tasted it if it were too high of a dose right?” he asked.

“Not necessarily,” she replied honestly. His brows furrowed and he took a step back, pacing lightly out of stress.

“I’m sorry, I know this is awkward and please don’t think less of me. I just really don’t want to lose my dick,” he confessed, looking at her apologetically.

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@ the anon who sent me a prompt: Im taking requests, it just might take me a while to write them if that’s okay with you.

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oxford-educated psychologist fox mulder really looked his partner in the eye and said “i’m not a psychologist” with his whole chest.

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I like the implication that the Chinese have mastered every human language and are only confounded by the speech of the undead.

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ellivia

suitablyaggrieved asked:

For a prompt, how about Mulder and Scully actually going to a team building seminar?

aliendyke answered:

Thank you!

Fictober Day 16, Prompt #8 “I’m not doing that again”

ao3 link prompt list @today-in-fic @xffictober

The coffee is terrible, the walls are drab, and the company is migraine-inducing. Some things truly never change, and these tell-tale signs of the annual FBI team building seminar are amongst them.

Mulder chews on the inside of his cheek and doodles flying saucers on his welcome packet as the agents in his “break out circle” go around and introduce themselves, sharing the nature of their jobs with the Bureau and one interesting personal fact apiece. He looks over his shoulder at a similar circle on the other side of the room, spotting the back of Scully’s head and her tense shoulders. Chances are that she’s just as miserable as him. At least if they hadn’t split partners up for the icebreaker they’d be able to share judgemental glances and commiserate, but no such luck.

When it’s his turn, he glances around the circle and into the faces of overzealous agents, on the edges of their seats as if he’s about to do a magic trick. Apparently it’s easier to get through the Academy than it used to be.

“My name is Fox Mulder, I work on the X-Files in DC, we investigate unexplained phenomena,” He says woodenly.

“And one interesting fact about you?” The group leader throws him an encouraging smile and he briefly wonders how he can get back at Skinner for making them attend this seminar. Maybe he’ll make his next report particularly long and pedantic.

Mulder puffs out a long, weary sigh. “Uh, my grandfather invented the microwave oven,” He lies in a deadpan. It’s the fourth false “fun fact” he’s come up with today, and so far nobody has called his bluff. Some of the other agents smile, impressed. If souls exist, Mulder’s withers a little bit.

When he and Scully reconvene, one glance at her expression tells him all he needs to know about her experience with the icebreakers.

“I’m not doing that again,” She whispers to him through gritted teeth as they take their seats for the next speaker. The itinerary lists the next speaker as a life coach versed in meditation and nebulous spirituality. He pats Scully’s shoulder, fearing for her clenched jaw and preparing for her inevitable rant in their hotel later.

As they are led through a meditation and told to sense each other’s emotions through breathing, Mulder tries his best and can almost feel the crushing weight of Scully’s annoyance with the exercise. He refuses to give credit to the meditation, since she’s also cutting off the circulation to his hand with hers.

At least the Bureau is covering the room charges, because he has a feeling their minibars will be empty by the end of the night.