TITLE: You've Got My Number AUTHOR: aRcaDIaNFall$ FEEDBACK: arcadianfalls@yahoo.com.au RATING: PG SPOILERS: none CLASSIFICATION: hoo boy... MSR, I suppose. SUMMARY: A book on dating sparks an unusual conversation between Mulder and Scully. You've Got My Number by aRcaDIaNFall$ She was stretched out comfortably, propped up against the bedhead, one leg crossed over the other, stockinged toes wiggling. Noting her absorption, I read the cover of the book she was reading with interest. 'The Seven Habits of Highly Defective Dating.' "I could name maybe six of them," I announced. She lowered the book and pulled the bookmark from where she held it between her teeth. "What?" I indicated the book and she smiled sheepishly, shaking her head. "Don't ask." Feeling companionable, I threw myself down on the bed, stretching out alongside her. "Is it a good book?" She handed it over. "Have a look." I leaned closer to her as I took it, taking advantage of the closeness to sniff her. "You smell good." "Mulder, today I spent four hours in a car, two in a morgue, and the last one and a half in this cheap motel." I grinned, sniffing again. "Specially brewed scent, then." I wasn't just playing. She did smell good. Maybe it was because I wasn't always able to get so close to her. But she always smelt so deliciously Scully. She was shooting daggers so I drew back a little, sitting Indian-style to skim through the pages. Somebody had marked a final brief sentence: 'A physical relationship doesn't equal real love.' "You been defacing library books, Scully?" I asked innocently. Settling down with feet curled under her, she looked up at me demurely, eyebrow cocked appraisingly. "Why that sentence?" I wondered aloud, genuinely curious. It was kid stuff. "Actually, I was considering how it can work the other way around." Where did this sudden frankness come from? She stared at me with those baby blues, then looked away, a little embarrassed, maybe. I smiled. "Real love doesn't mean a physical relationship," I stated, teasing a little. "Is that what you're saying?" "It doesn't *necessarily* mean a physical relationship, no." "What sort of love are we talking about? Romantic love?" "Maybe." "You say that you can love somebody, romantically, without it being physical, without there being any hope of it becoming physical? You think that's possible?" "I know it is," she answered steadily. I knew exactly what she was referring to, but it was no surprise. "I don't agree with that," I said, gazing right back at her. "I think that there's always hope of the relationship becoming physical." "Yes, but you're a guy." "We're talking about love here, Dana. If you love somebody, romantically -" "You called me Dana." "...Yes, I did," I acknowledged. She nodded, curious, a little amused. "Go on." "If you love somebody, romantically, then you want to give them everything. That's committment." "Sex and committment are two entirely different things, Mulder." "I never said they weren't." At least, I didn't think that was what I'd said. Scully beside me, now hugging a pillow, hiding a demure smile... it was distracting to say the very least. "I'm saying that if you're in a romantic relationship and you're committed then it usually leads to sex." "We're in a committed relationship," she pointed out. "But it's not a -" But it is a romantic relationship. It's the most romantic relationship I've ever had. "We're in a committed relationship... a committed, romantic relationship." She gazed at me appraisingly. "And our relationship isn't physical." I reached out to touch her shoulder, then brushed the back of my knuckles across her cheek. "We're not physical?" "We're not having *sex*, Mulder," she pointed out, eyebrow cocked. "Is that a complaint?" I muttered innocently, unable to resist. "No." That was emphatic. She was smiling a little, though. "No, it's not." "And this is proof to back up your theory that committed, romantic love doesn't always lead to sex?" She nodded. "And that both partners can be happy with this?" Another nod, a little more hesitant. "And... you're happy with this?" "It's... good." "Why is it 'good'?" "Mulder, when is the last time you had sex that hasn't ended up disasterously?" I thought back. So she had a point. "That doesn't mean, though," I objected, "that the same would necessarily apply to our relationship. None of the past disasterous relationships were in any way like ours." "But there's certainly potential for disaster." "There's potential for success, too," I parried, staring at her. She stared back, returning my half-quizzical expression, eyebrow raised. "And," I added wickedly, "there's only one way we'd ever find that out." She didn't even flinch. "Oh?" she asked innocently. I leaned in closer. "Wanna give it a go?" She stared right back at me for several long seconds, smiling, unafraid. Then she drew back. "Maybe another time." "I'll hold you to that, you know." She raised an eyebrow. "I know." We smiled at each other, teasingly coy smiles, then I rolled off the bed, giving her a wider grin. "You've got my number." fin.