The Vex-Files

by KimK

Title: The Vex-Files
Author: KimK
Rating: PG
Keywords: Humor, UST
Spoilers: None
Summary: Heat can go both ways -- irritation or attraction. Archive: Oh please do, just leave it like it is and let me know about it.
Feedback: Yes please. I ain't too proud to beg, but I would rather it not come to that. Disclaimer: Not mine . . . hrmph. Don't sue, I'm filthy poor. Thank you: Sara, my beta reader and pal. Also thank you Gillian and David for your hard work and amazing chemistry. Thanks goes to CC and Co., as well. Definite thanks goes to the readers for taking your time to read this and sending me your generous feedback. <g>
Author's Notes: I decided to write this because: 1) The Muse is at it again and 2) the Humor theme going on at Crystalship made me want to try something like this. This is my first stab at straight out humor. Very tricky genre to write if I do say so myself. Granted it's not as funny as some, I chuckled while writing it. Hope you enjoy and maybe even laugh a little!


The tiny desk fans did nothing to placate the unforgiving humidity and heat filling the room with each breath they took. Air conditioning, or lack thereof, had become quite the problem lately down in the already stuffy basement office. Upstairs everything was working just fine, but for some reason this particular summer had become undeniably unbearable in just the last few days. It was beginning to wear on two specific people.

Agents Mulder and Scully had just finished a case and were working on their individual reports due by the end of the day. Scully was almost finished, while Mulder was procrastinating as much as time would allow. He'd done his artwork with the pencils to the ceiling only hours ago and now he was walking around the office, looking at pictures and posters as if he had never seen them before. Scully was doing her best to ignore him.

As she started her conclusion to her report, she heard an annoying humming sound coming from the direction of the fan sitting on the stool in the middle of the room. Then all of a sudden she heard, "Luke, I am your father," vibrating through the rapidly turning propellers within the fan, giving off the almost believable idea that it was Darth Vader speaking.

You have got to be kidding me, Scully thought. It was hot, she was sweating and she was not in the mood. Adding a period to the end of the sentence she had been working on then beginning the next sentence, her eyes did not leave the computer screen when she replied coolly, "Real mature Mulder."

He didn't say one word in reply to the comment, just went to his desk and dug out his wallet from the pocket of his sports coat. Currently, he had his sleeves rolled up to just above his elbows, the top button of his shirt unbuttoned and his tie loosely wrapped around his neck. Scully had worn a short-sleeved plain white shirt and, wearing the blazer only long enough to travel from the Bureau entrance to the office, removing it as soon as she reached the basement floor. Sitting down she had removed her heels, but there was not much else she could do about the unyielding heat circulating and recirculating through the room. Even her skirt didn't serve as much of a vent, her legs covered in stockings. They'd even opened the tiny windows that lined the wall high above Mulder's desk, but it did no good whatsoever.

"I'm going to the vending machine. You want anything?" He announced, already making his way to the door. The heat was wearing on him too, if not more so, but thus far he was doing a better job at hiding the effects of it on his nerves than she was.

"No thanks," she said tersely. She looked up at him for the first time in what seemed like hours and feigned a smile, letting him know she was genuinely thankful for the gesture. He shrugged and made his exit.

Moments later he returned, the crinkle of a chip bag coming from his hands. He placed a bottled water on her makeshift, fold-out table of a desk and went to sit down. Before she could voice her thank you he had opened the bag and was happily crunching away at the regular potato chips.

After only four or five chips the incessant munching began to rub at Scully's already on edge nerves. She looked up to see him looking over the case notes, the first sign of productivity she had seen him do all day. The only thing motivating her to get her report finished so fast was that once she did she would get to go several flights up to the cool, icy haven that the basement did not offer.

"Mulder, will you please, for the love of God, stop crunching those chips? It's driving me insane." She finally pleaded, agitation in her tone.

"Yeah, sorry," he said almost absent-mindedly, his eyes glued to the folder in front of him. Without thinking he crumpled the bag to toss in the trash can, somehow having finished all of the chips in two minutes. The sound of the aluminum made Scully wince.

She went about trying to finish her report, only a few sentences away. Unfortunately, both reports had to be turned in at the same time, so the fact that Mulder was just getting started was causing Scully to tense up with even more irritation.

Tap, tap, tap, tap came the sound of the tiny pencil hitting with a steady rhythm against the desk. Mulder's desk. Mulder being the one causing the pestering noise. And if that wasn't enough he started to swivel his chair, the squeaking of the old screws and springs adding to the already vexing rata-tat-tat the pencil was making.

"Mulder . . ." his name escaped her lips with unavoidable exasperation. He looked up from his manila folder, his brow scrunched together in thought. It took a moment or two, but it finally registered what she was referring to, Mulder dropping the pencil and positioning himself in the chair so that he wouldn't be tempted to swivel anymore. A heavy, frustrated sigh escaped his lips, Scully's nagging having begun to annoy him.

Scully ignored it, turning her attention back to the now finished report. All she had to do was proofread and she would be done. Taking a swig from the water bottle Mulder had brought her, Scully began to read through her report.

Without realizing she began to drum her fingers. Mulder knew it wasn't intentional but he felt like he was getting a taste of his own medicine, the clicking of her nails against fake wood already beginning to make him twitch, perturbed.

"All right, Scully that's just not fair. I have to stop tapping my pencil but you get to drum your nails? It's just as annoying."

Unleashing a heavy, dramatic sigh, Scully pulled her hand into her lap. "Happy now?"

"Yeah, thanks," he muttered under his breath with mock gratefulness. Scully heard it but decided to ignore the comment.

"You know, it wouldn't hurt for you to actually do something, Mulder." She informed him, settling her back into the chair, her eyes cool in contrast to the room.

"I am doing something," he defended, waving the folder as demonstration.

"Yeah, NOW you are! We may have four more hours for you to finish your report, but I am finished and ready to get the damned thing into Skinner." The tension was building, the anger only making it hotter for both of them.

"Hey, unlike you I can't just sit down and write it out. I have to stew on it a little, gather my thoughts."

Maybe she had never noticed his method in writing his reports because it had never annoyed her until now. Up until that point, she had never paid much attention. Of course, they usually finished about the same time so there had never been a need to analyze.

Scully rolled her eyes, another sigh escaping her lips.

"Fine," she said, the word clipped. Standing she began to gather the few notes she had taken with her to her desk, piling them neatly in her own folder. Not even bothering to proofread any further, she scrolled to print and waited, sitting back down.

Aside from the sound of the printer, the room became noticeably quiet. Scully had her eyes looking past the filing cabinet at nothing in particular when she felt the gentle touch of a hand to her shoulder. Switching her gaze from the dust particles floating in with the sun's rays, Scully looked up to meet a pair of dark hazel eyes.

"You look hot today, Scully," she heard his breathy monotone say. If she didn't know any better by the sound of his voice and the look in his eyes, Scully would almost think that the comment went beyond what it implied. That he didn't just mean temperature wise.

"So do you," she choked out, trying to keep her voice neutral and unfeeling.

The last of the pages printed, so Scully retrieved them and hit the bottoms on the desk to straighten them out, paper clipping them together. Standing with the intention to set the papers on Mulder's desk, Scully found herself trapped in between the wall and a very warm body. A not all that unpleasantly warm body.

Mulder didn't budge, his eyes now possessing the heat of the room as he looked at her.

"You know . . . there is only one solution to go about fixing how hot we are."

A hard to miss gulp traveled down Scully's throat. "Is that so?" She forced out, her voice betraying her just a little.

"Yeah," Mulder assured her. He placed his palm on her shoulder again, leaning down to eye level and her eyes shot up to meet his gaze completely then.

"Scully . . ." He started, his lips having somehow inched closer to her face, just a few more inches and they would be touching hers. His eyes swept over her.

"Yeah . . ." She practically sighed.

"We need to get out of here and get some ice cream." An impish grin crossed his face, his body straightening away from her's.

Scully unleashed the breath she'd been holding and pushed Mulder away gently to move free herself from him. Despite the innuendo, he'd been sincere in his actions and that annoyed her on a completely different level. The closeness of their bodies combined with the heat of the room had aroused both of them and they both knew it.

"On one condition," she started, her body shaken from the close encounter. She was flustered.

"What?" Mulder had that cruel grin on his face still, having been utterly amused at what he'd just done. He'd needed to replace the type of tension that had been building all day with an entirely different breed of tension. Quite honestly he wasn't sure which one supplied the least torture.

"You work when we get back." She'd already begun to toe back into her heels.

"Really? We're gonna play hooky?" He inquired with enthusiasm. He'd meant the idea as just a joke, but if she was willing, he was.

"For no more than an hour." She was almost tempted to wave a finger at him like she would at a small child.

Grabbing their blazers for appearance only, they made for the door. Upon entering the elevator, Mulder looked down at Scully.

"You really do look hot," he said, almost without grinning.

"Shut up, Mulder," a hint of a smile crossed Scully's lips with the reprimand.


Notes: Did you like it? Maybe even love it a little? Tell me! Love!

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