Archive of Our Own

Scully was grocery shopping as she contemplated what the next two weeks of her life were going to look like. Mulder was on mandatory leave, which meant that she was going to be working their usual caseload alone. On the bright side, at least she was going to have the office to herself for a while. The quiet would be nice.

She was musing over whether or not to attempt to organize his desk when her shopping cart bumped into something. Looking down, she saw a small stuffed animal, one of those little keychain things. She gingerly picked it up, examining it.

It was kind of cute, in an odd sort of way. It had a fluffy exterior and a hard plastic face with a toothy grin. It had long rabbit-like ears, and its plush, fleece-like fur was an inoffensive beige. Though, come to think of it, that might have been due to its time on the floor of a supermarket. Wrinkling her nose, she placed it in the basket of the shopping cart, next to her purse. She would keep an eye out for the kid that must have dropped it.

Seeing no teary-eyed toddlers as she finished up her shopping, she decided to take it home with her, if only to give it a good wash. She could put in on Mulder's— no, her— desk tomorrow.

It was day two of Mulder's mandatory leave, and already, he was going insane. He was pacing his apartment like a neglected zoo animal, practically ripping his hair out.

He could go somewhere. Take a drive, maybe see the ocean, visit a greasy diner next to a tourist trap. He wasn't on house arrest, he was free to leave and go wherever he liked. It was just that he couldn't shake the feeling that they were planning something, that they wanted him gone for a reason. Something big was going to happen within the next two weeks, and he had to be absent in order for it to pay off.

What if something happened to Scully? What if they were waiting to get her alone, when he wouldn't be there to protect her? He couldn't call her, that would look suspicious. If anyone was watching him (which, of course, someone always was), he didn't want to tip them off.

There was something he could try. He rifled through his personal library, or, what some might call "a pile of nonsense" and picked out the book he had in mind: Astral Projection, the Beginner's Guide.

The ritual had surprisingly few requirements. He had to be cleansed, both spiritually and physically, which was easy enough. Nudity was, thankfully, optional, but natural fibers (or "of the earth" as the book put it) were recommended. He needed all four elements, placed in each of the cardinal directions (a glass of water, a lit candle, a small fossil from his collection, and one of those air fresheners shaped like a pine tree).

All he had to do was sit in the center, align his chakras, and clear his mind. Then, he could focus on his target, and hopefully his spirit would travel to it. He took a deep breath, and focused. Scully, Scully, Scully…

"Scully, Scully, Scully" she heard, lifting her head from where she had been reading over a potential x file. It was, allegedly, a Sasquatch sighting that was linked to a string of burglaries.

"Hello?" She said aloud. There was no one in the office with her. She got up to check the hallway, but that was clear too.

"Scully, it's me!" The voice said. It sounded like…

"Mulder?" She asked. She still couldn't figure out where it was coming from. Was he hiding in the vents somehow? "Where are you?"

"I'm not sure, I think I'm on the desk." Came the reply. "My view's kind of fuzzy."

"You mean you've smuggled in some sort of recording device?" She looked around the desk for the blinking light of a hidden camera.

"Something like that." Came the reply, close enough to startle her. She looked over, and there was no mistaking where the sound had come from.

"Ha, fuzzy. I get it." Scully rolled her eyes. "How did you even manage that? There was no way you could have known I'd pick that up."

"What do you mean?" His voice was surprisingly clear. Whatever radio device he was using must have been top of the line.

"Mulder, you're in a Labubu."

"A what?"

"You know, one of those little stuffed animal keychains. They're like beanie babies." She explained. She still couldn't see where the camera was. The likely answer was in the eyes somehow, but maybe that was too obvious.

"Oh. I guess that makes sense, a humanoid form is probably easier to inhabit."

"Whoever set this up for you must have had a sense of humor."

"Well, I guess that depends on your stance regarding determinism." He supposed. She rolled her eyes.

"Whatever." She dismissed him. "What do you want, Mulder?"

"Just making sure everything is alright while I'm gone."

"Seriously? I've told you time and again, I can handle myself just fine without you." She groaned. Nevermind all the occasions where she had saved him from imminent danger, clearly she was a hopeless damsel in need of his constant protection.

"It's not that. I trust you, implicitly. You're probably the most competent agent in that whole building. I'm just worried that the timing of my absence might be, well, intentional." His physical body, still in his apartment, leaned forward in a conspiratorial manner. The labubu remained unchanged.

"You think the bureau sent you away so you wouldn't be around while they enacted some secret plan?"she felt a little ridiculous looking at the cartoony, plastic face, so she turned away.

"Exactly."

"Right, and you were present during the meeting where they told you that your paranoid tendencies were negatively affecting your performance, correct? Because I was, and I don't think this helps your case." She spoke into the open air.

"Come on, Scully. You don't think all this is a little suspicious? Every time we get separated, something bad happens. That's not paranoia, that's a claim supported by quantitative evidence."

"Alright, fine." She sighed, wishing she could argue the point. "That being said, I still think this is a little overboard."

"I had limited options."

"Limited to what, the toy aisle?" She smirked.

"Very funny. Just do me a favor and keep me with you. I want to be in the know if something goes wrong."

"Won't that look a little suspicious?"

"I'm on a keychain, right? Just clip me to your car keys." He reasoned. "Now, what are we working on?"

"I am working on determining if this case belongs in our department. Someone reported a number of burglaries, and security footage appears to show Bigfoot at the scene of the crime."

"Sounds interesting."

"It certainly does. However, the images captured from the footage don't line up with what we've seen before."

"Let me see." He insisted. Still feeling silly, she picked up the toy and pointed its face at the printed out photographs.

Mulder was surprised by the sensation. It wasn't like he could feel her hand wrapped around his body, but there was definitely something, like a light pressure on his torso. He was able to see what she was looking at, though.

She was right. This didn't look like anything they had dealt with before. It did, however, look familiar.

"I think I know what we're looking at, here. Call it a hunch, but there's a forum I think you should check out."

"Mulder, do I even want to know why you know about this website?" Scully asked a short while later.

"The lone gunmen have it listed as a resource. Apparently, a lot of these, uh, enthusiasts, are really good with computers."

"And I guess they know a thing or two about remaining anonymous."

"Listen, you should be able to use the forum to find any costumers in the area. Based on the images you showed me, this would be a good place to start."

Which is how Agent Scully, Mulder's fuzzy vessel clipped to her purse, ended up knocking on the door of a house in the suburbs of Virginia, asking to speak with Build_a_Were_42, who was not, as expected, a man living in his parents basement. Danique Stanley was a pleasant woman in her early thirties with a purple pixie cut and, notably, a pronounced limp. If the cane hanging by the door was anything to go by, she could be ruled out as their suspected burglar. She was eager to answer any questions, and offered to show the agent her "workshop", which had once been the house's dining room. There were stacks of upholstery foam, a shelf full of fake fur of every color, and a truly impressive industrial sewing machine.

"I've been crafting since I was a little kid, and with my disability, I can't really work a traditional nine-to-five. My commissions allow me to work when I can, and the money's good enough that I can live independently."

"Do you keep track of who you sell to? Are there any records I could take a look at?"

"Of course. Some of my customers prefer to remain anonymous, but I can show you what I have."

"Excellent. Can you tell me, is this one of your costumes?" She pulled out the clearest photo of the Sasquatch. "We believe this person may be linked to a criminal case, and is attempting to conceal their identity."

Danique was able to confirm that the costume worn in the security footage was, in fact, her handiwork, and identified the owner as user Squatcha_doin_2nt, who paid for the suit through a bank account linked to one Nathaniel Fultone, a contractor that lived in Wilmington. Fultone was brought in for questioning, and the case was no longer considered an x file.

Of course, this did not mean that Scully was off the hook regarding paperwork. She had been staring at the computer screen so long that she could feel her brain going numb.

"You should wear those glasses more often." Mulder's voice startled her back into reality.

"Would you stop that?" She snapped at him. "What are you even still doing here? The case was a dud, you saw it yourself."

"Yeah, but I still have to keep an eye on you. Just in case, you know."

"I wish you wouldn't, it's sort of…" she searched for the word "creepy. Voyeuristic, even."

"Well now who's the creep? We're in the workplace, Dr. Scully, get your mind out of the—" Mulder didn't get the opportunity to finish his sentence, as the next thing he saw was the inside of his own desk drawer.

Scully smiled, self-satisfied. Finally, some peace and quiet.