From: AuroraVer2@aol.com
Date: Sun, 14 Oct 2001 14:58:25 EDT
Subject: NEW: "Wit with an Agenda" (1/1) by Aurora Vere
Source: xff


TITLE:  Wit with an Agenda
AUTHOR:  Aurora Vere
ARCHIVE: Gossamer, yes.  Spookys, yes.  Everyone else, ask for 
permission.
FEEDBACK:  Gratefully accepted at AuroraVer2@aol.com.

CATEGORY: VH
RATING: PG-13
SPOILERS: Season One, after "Under the Sea"
KEYWORDS: M/S UST 
SUMMARY:  A coffee shop at 11 PM can break the ice between
partners, and through lessons of wit, of the heart, and of
art, perhaps clue them in to something deeper -- something
they'd never accessed before.

AUTHOR'S NOTES:  To Gregg, for the title of this story, to YV
and great friendships, even in missed trips to Chicago, and
anyone who is almost too jaded to watch Season 9.  I hope 
this story will bring back happy memories.

---------------------------------------------------------------

"Single mocha latte, extra whipped cream, and one coffee, cream,
no sugar."  Mulder deposited both mugs on the table.  "Anything
else while I'm up?"

"No thanks," Scully replied as she slid the steaming mug toward
her.  "This'll keep me up all night as it is."

Mulder slid into the opposite end of the booth.  "Really?"

"Mulder, I don't make a habit of drinking coffee at 11 PM.
I'm usually in bed by 11."

"I know."  Mulder took a large sip of whipped cream off the top
of his mug, oblivious to Scully's growing frown.  

"And what's that supposed to mean?" she asked him.

Mulder looked up.  "What?"

"That comment."

"Nothing."  Mulder took another sip from his mug.

Scully felt herself frowning.  "What *do* you know, Mulder?  
You've only known me a few months.  Why don't you enlighten
me?"

Mulder blinked, looking up from his coffee.  "It was just
an observation.  I wasn't passing judgment."  He paused.
"You can go to bed at 6 in the evening and have my fondest
blessings.  I was just agreeing with you."

"Mulder, your 'agreement' was saturated with sarcasm."  Scully
leaned forward.  "I might not have much of a life, but I'd
appreciate your not making light of what little of a life I 
actually have."

Mulder grinned.  "I never said you didn't have a life.  Besides,
who am I to be pointing fingers?"

Her frown relaxed.

"And that wasn't sarcasm," he added, taking another sip of 
coffee.

Scully's frown returned, more from puzzlement than anything else.
"Then what was it?" she wanted to know.

Mulder finished off the whipped cream in his mug before answering
her.  "If I was being sarcastic, Scully, you'd know it.  You'd
probably never forgive me.  I only bring it out in special 
moments, when someone or something desperately deserves a putdown.
What you heard just a minute ago is nothing special, just my
signature dry wit."

She shook her head.  "I don't understand."

"Yes you do."  Mulder paused for another sip.  "There's a 
difference between sarcasm and dry wit.  Plenty of differences,
actually.  Sarcasm, as my father used to say, is wit with an 
agenda."

Scully said nothing.

"Dry wit is just that -- dry wit.  It's meant to be funny.  
It makes light of a situation."  Mulder fingered the rim of the
porcelain mug.

Scully frowned again.  "So you're making light of me?"

"Not at all.  Can I finish, please?"

"By all means."

"Thank you."  Mulder downed the last sip of his latte.  "I was
trying to make you laugh, Scully.  I haven't seen you laugh 
since your father passed.  You've been keeping to yourself 
lately.  All you do is work, sleep, and maybe grab a five-
minute coffee break every once in a while.

"You're not eating like you should.  Half a bagel and a cup
of coffee does not constitute a balanced breakfast.  I won't
even go into the pack of crackers I saw you eating for lunch."

Scully gave him a hurtful glare.

"You've thrown yourself into your work," Mulder said, "and while
I admire you for jumping right in, I think you need to get out 
of the trenches for a while, take some time for yourself.  Maybe
have a few more cups of coffee with your partner, stay out past
your bedtime.  Is that so bad?"

Scully shook her head.  "You amaze me, Mulder.  You managed to
dredge that endless diatribe out of one sarcastic remark."

"It wasn't sarcasm."

"Oh, sorry.  Your 'signature dry wit', as it were."

Mulder grinned, pointing at her.  "Now THAT is sarcasm."

Scully retreated to her coffee, hiding her slight smile behind
the mug.

"You see, Scully?  You're picking up."  Mulder moved his cup
out of the way.  "Now we're even."

One eyebrow arched just above her upturned mug.

"You can't judge me for a remark which is far less caustic than
the one you just made."  Mulder grinned.  "Hypocrite."

Scully put down the mug, challenging him with playful eyes.
"Smartass."

"Guilty as charged."  Mulder nodded appreciatively.  "You know,
Scully, I've seen more life in you in the past five minutes than
I've seen in five weeks.  You're almost cute when you're
defensive."

She hid behind her mug again, taking a long sip of coffee.  
"Don't get used to it."

"What, your being defensive or your being cute?"

"Watch it, Mulder."  

He grinned.  

A silence settled over them, catching them both by surprise.  
Scully was unsettled by it.  It wasn't like Mulder to let the
conversation come to a screeching halt.  He liked to talk, to
fill in the gaps.  What was he thinking?  Could he see the 
blush she felt burning her cheeks?  And why the hell did it
matter all of a sudden?

"You know, Scully, this is interesting."  Mulder pointed to
the artwork on the wall.  "I can't believe they're actually
selling this piece of shit as art."

Scully felt herself frowning at his comment.  Mulder was
changing the subject.  Why?  

"'Coffee Study Number One,' by Manuel Gomez."  Mulder chuckled.
"One five-by-seven piece of watercolor paper, complete with
a coffee stain from the bottom of a mug.  Yours to own for 
the low price of $125."  He turned back to her, his lips
curled in a smile.  "I'm in the wrong field."

Scully felt a slight smile forming on her own lips.  Whatever
his reason for the detour in conversation, it was appreciated.
"You'd make a terrible artist, Mulder," she said.  "You have no 
patience."

"You think that took a lot of patience?"  He pointed to the
coffee study on the wall.

Her smile widened.

"I can do just as good as that, if not better," Mulder said to
her.  "I took art classes at Oxford.  Barely passed, but I
got high marks for effort."

"Really?"  Scully leaned forward, suddenly interested.  "What
did you take?"

Mulder grinned.  "Drawing the Female Form.  Very educational."

Scully's eyes widened in amazement.  "Mulder, you took a nude
drawing class?"

He nodded.  "Half of my girlfriends that semester came from 
that class.  They appreciated my 'sensitive side.'"  He smiled
again.  

"You really do amaze me," Scully said with a smirk.  

"How's that?"

"You just do," she said, leaning back in the booth.  "You
seem to enjoy leading me on a path, only to change direction
as soon as you have my attention."

"Do you not like that?"

"I've grown to tolerate it."  She glanced at him with bright
eyes.

Mulder leaned forward, his voice softer.  "Is that dry wit,
Scully, or sarcasm?"

"You're the psychologist.  You figure it out."

Mulder smiled.  "Is that an invitation to get in your head
for once?"

She leaned toward him, lowering her voice.  "You've been in
my head for months, Mulder.  Like it or not, I'm stuck
with you."

"I'm sure it's torture."  

Mulder's eyes hinted at something different, something Scully
had rarely seen in the months they'd worked together.  Something
soft, almost tender.  

She felt herself blushing again, retreating to her mug to drain
the last sip of coffee.  She would not question or remotely 
read into that look he'd just given her.  He was her partner,
after all.  He cared about her well-being.  He wanted her to 
eat more than half a bagel and a pack of crackers a day.  
He wanted...

What else did he want?

Her eyes returned to him, but he wasn't looking at her anymore.
He was focused on something else now, twisting his mug on top
of a spare napkin so that it made a faint impression on the 
paper.

"Think I could sell this?" he said, showing her the coffee-
stained circle on the napkin.

Scully smiled.  "You'll need a frame."

"No I don't."  He carefully positioned the napkin against 
the wall.  "I'll sell it half price."

His remark found a laugh in her, catching her completely off
guard.  

"You find that funny?" he wanted to know.

Scully was still laughing.  "Don't quit your day job," she
advised him.

Mulder rose from the booth.  "I don't intend to," he countered.
"Oh, and for the record?"

Scully stood beside him.  "What?"

"That was dry wit."  Mulder grinned as he opened the door for
her.


*                         *FINIS*                         *