🅧 Please explain to me the scientific nature of 'the whammy'

[faithfulskeptic]

[ n a m e ; ]	Dana Katherine Scully
[ c a n o n ; ]	The X-Files
[ g a m e ; ]	spicy times in noctiumrp

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[bigfootfetish]

"Wild horses couldn't drag me away." He's not expecting answers, and at the moment, he can resist the siren song of box scores. The only thing that really matters is right here beside him. Hungry though he is to kiss her, there's no way to make it anything but awkward for both of them; he presses his lips against her narrow shoulder. "There's a lot ahead of us. But tonight, I'm all yours."

[faithfulskeptic]

She loves him, but she couldn't muster the energy to love baseball in his absence. Sorry Mulder.

The gentle kiss makes her smile, lifting an arm up behind her, groping behind her to ruffle his hair.

"This is everything I want."

[bigfootfetish]

Mulder grins, letting himself be rumpled by her wandering hand. This is something to savor; Scully loose-limbed and teasing is a privilege enjoyed by few. "In that case -" with another light kiss, this time to the line of her neck, "this is what you're getting. This, and me pestering you until you fall asleep. We could make his middle name Archibald."

[faithfulskeptic]

She makes a noise that manages to be equal parts delight and disgust, snuggling in close against his chest. Already she's a little bit dozy, which is probably to be expected-- the truth is her tendency to fall asleep so easily has more than a little to do with how safe Mulder makes her feel. Always has.

(It's not that she didn't think she could do this without him, of course. There was a time when she was actively preparing for single motherhood. But it's different, so different, to be facing a future so rich with love.)

For a long moment she's quiet, perhaps drifting off... until she stirs and murmurs.

"I'd let you get away with Patrick."

[bigfootfetish]

He figures she's falling asleep - he's known the sound of her breath evening out for years, since long before they ever ended up in bed together. And while he's not tired, he's content to lie here and hold her for a while, lying here comfortably at her side.

(At some point he'll be irredeemably bored, and he'll have to get up. For now, though, the changes to her body - and by extension, to both of their lives - provide enough food for thought to keep him occupied.)

And then she wakes enough to offer a name he doesn't expect. "Why Patrick?"

[faithfulskeptic]

There's very little that sounds as enticing as falling asleep now, and waking up and him still being here, still being real-- still being the love of her life and the father of her son. But his question makes her huff a little laugh, trying to glance slyly over her shoulder.

"Ewing, Mulder."

[bigfootfetish]

If she can see his eyes, she'll appreciate the way they've lit up at the thought. "Look at you. We'll make a basketball fan out of you yet, Scully."

And the idea's a pretty good one, at that. Ewing's more than proven himself, and it doesn't sound too bad. "William Patrick Mulder Scully."

[faithfulskeptic]

It's frivolous, but in a way that's oddly meaningful; maybe it's odd to consider naming their kid with an in-joke but it's not like they've ever made a habit of standing on tradition. But it sounds all right, and it's an innocuous enough name that she can't imagine having to explain it more than I liked it.

"Put it on the short list," she murmurs, blindly reaching for his hand. Now she can doze off.