Leap Birthday (though I played with Lifetime Guarantee and Dung Cake)

Sara B.

It was Friday, 4:54pm, and Scully’s birthday and so far ‘the bastard,’ as she now thought of him, hadn’t said one word about it the whole damned day.  ‘Eidetic memory my lily white ass!’ 

Mulder had just gone to Skinner’s office so she decided it was a good time to make an exit.  She didn’t have any plans for the evening because her mom was out of town and she’d been sure Mulder would have made some plans.  Well, there was leftover homemade lasagna waiting for her and a number of cards and presents ready to be opened.

She needed to leave because she didn’t want to spoil this lousy birthday by committing homicide, even if she was sure she would get off.  All she had to do to have it declared ‘justifiable homicide,’ was to tell the jury how ‘the bastard’ came back and told her about some new case or that he wanted her to re-do the expense forms for the Higgin’s case because Skinner just chewed on his ass about it being two weeks late.

Her attorney would ask, ‘the victim demanded you do his work for him and he never even bothered to wish you a happy birthday?’

‘No sir, he has only remembered my birthday once in all the years we’ve been partners.  And that was only when he thought I was going to die.”  A tear would escape and trail down her cheek.

The prosecutor would stand and request that all charges be dropped.  Her fantasy ended with her being interviewed by Oprah cheered on by the audience.

A smile graced her mouth but soon turned to a grimace as she remembered ‘the bastard.’

She could hear him now, with that wheedling affectation he got when he dumped crap on her; “come on, Scully, you know you are better at that stuff than I am.  Finance never tosses out our claims when you do them.  All they need to do is see my signature and it goes into the shit-can.”

There wouldn’t be a ‘please’ or even an ‘I’ll owe you.’  No, Mulder would dump it on her ‘table,’ make his little speech then leave before she could comment.  The next morning he’d be demanding the report as she walked in the door. 

Mulder was pissed, he’d spent the last half hour listening to Skinner complain about the Higgin’s files and how the expense report was still missing two weeks after the case was closed.  He’d tried to fill out the expense report but how could he explain the two trashed motel rooms?  Two rooms that were not even theirs, rooms that were not located in their motel, rooms that they had not even seen before they were trashed.  He decided to let Scully have a go at it.  He planned his arguments during the elevator ride to the basement and had it started as he walked into the office.  Arguments that fell on no ears because Scully was gone.  Shit!

Mulder was sitting at his desk balancing a pencil between his nose and his upper lip when there was a knock.  It was Denny from the mail room.  “Late delivery for Agent Scully,” the young man’s eyes took in the room hoping to get a glance at her.

“Sorry, Scully’s already gone.  Why don’t you leave it on her desk?”

The kid’s face fell a fraction.   “It’s marked fragile and perishable.  Will she be back?”

Mulder was intrigued, not to mention this might be his key into getting Scully’s help with the report.  “Hey, you know what?  I’ll drop it off at her place.”

“Thanks, Agent Mulder.”   He handed the package to Mulder and turned to go, “would you do me a favor and wish her a happy birthday for me too?”

Mulder nodded as Denny’s words sunk in.  His eyes jumped to his, as Scully named it, ‘bimbos on the beach’ desk calendar, he’d forgotten to turn the page.  Oh crap!  They’d missed the hard won reservations he made at that restaurant she wanted to try and it was too late to pick up the bracelet he’d gotten her.  Her first birthday since they moved their relationship forward and he messed up – Big Time!

Mulder approached her door with the package in one hand and a bouquet of blush roses in the other.  She opened the door wearing what he knew was her ‘comfort outfit,’ which consisted of an old pair of sweat pants and one of her father’s old shirts.  She only donned this particular outfit when she was in a particularly bad, or as he suspected better fit this occasion, hurt mood.  He was glad he’d left the Higgin’s file in the car.

“Happy birthday Scully!”  Mulder pushed both hands out, “I come bearing gifts.”

A full fledge, teeth flashing, gum bearing smile lit up her face and he heard her quietly say, “he remembered.”  He wasn’t sure she even realized she’d said it out loud but he did know he was the sorriest son of a bitch on the face of the earth.

Mulder went to the living room and placed the box on the table while she got a vase for the flowers.

Scully said, “you didn’t need to give me a gift and flow . . .” she stopped suddenly as she recognized the return address on the label.  Her face fell.  “You only remembered because this got delivered didn’t you?”

Mulder nodded, “Denny said to say happy birthday for him.”  It was a dumb comment but he didn’t know what else to say. 

Scully pushed her shoulders back and looked straight ahead.  “I, well, I think you should go now, and take those with you.”  Her hand pointed in the direction of the flowers but her eyes never moved. 

“Scully, I’m sorry.”

“You most certainly are.  Leave now, I would like to open my presents from the people who care about me.”

“Scully, come on, please.”

“Do you see that one over there wrapped in the Sunday comics?  That is from the Gunmen, that one over there in the blue is from my aunt Olive, that one is from my mom.”  She continued to point and tell him who sent the wrapped offerings.  “None of those people are as close to me as you are, or at least as close as I thought we were.” 

Mulder watched her physically sag and again he felt like crap.  He got up and walked out; getting as far as the elevator before turning around.  He couldn’t let her hurt like this, to think he’d forgotten.

Mulder re-entered Scully’s apartment without knocking and found her curled up on the couch with her arms holding her knees to her chest with her head down.  Small hitches in her breathing told him she was crying.

“Scully, I didn’t forget.  I made plans too.  I had reservations at Tempest and a present for you, a real present, that is sitting in the shop being personalized because it was closed when I finally got my act together.”

“I didn’t care about a fancy dinner or a present, all I wanted was for you to wish me a happy birthday because you remembered.”

“Scully, this isn’t an excuse but a reason.  You know how being out on Monday had me screwed up all week?”  She nodded as she realized where he was going, “I thought today was Thursday and your birthday was tomorrow.”  Mulder hung his head.  “I messed this one up too.  I wanted to make up for all those other birthdays and I go and make it a big mess.”

Mulder felt her hand run through his hair and he looked at her.  Scully had a tender smile on her face.  “You remembered, that was all I wanted.  Maybe you did it in a Mulder logic sort of way but you remembered.”  She drew him into a hug, “thank you.”

Mulder wasn’t quite sure what happened but he knew a reprieve when he got one and for once he wasn’t going to argue.  “Maybe we can celebrate tomorrow?”

“That would be nice; we could call it my ‘leap birthday.’  Now, let’s find out what Charles sent me.” 

She started, once again, to unwrap the package Mulder brought with him.  Inside the shipping box there had been a brightly wrapped box that held a pink bakery box.  Mulder lifted it out for her and placed it on the table.  Scully looked at it for a moment and a huge smile broke out.  “It can’t be!”  She examined the label, “it is!  Oh, Mulder, you are in for one of the grossest, most delicious experiences of your life.” 

Scully tossed open the lid and Mulder looked inside to see a huge pile of dung, complete with flies.

“It’s a ‘Shit Cake,’” Scully announced and burst out laughing at Mulder’s expression.  “Charles lives in Rhinebeck NY and teaches at Hudson.  He is always telling me to stop judging things by the way they look but to dig deeper, to be more open.  To illustrate it he gave me one of these when I visited him last fall; a bakery in Kingston makes them.”

Mulder looked at the disgusting mess then back to Scully.  “Oh, come now, this from the man who sticks his bare fingers into every gross and oozing blob he encounters?”  She plucked off one of the plastic flies and dipped her finger in the frosting and offered it to him.

Mulder tentatively tasted it and his eyes lit up.  It was fantastic!

They ate their fill while Scully opened the rest of her presents.  Mulder kept up a running commentary on each.  When she got to her Aunt Olive’s she acted a little shy and tried to push it aside but Mulder wouldn’t let her.  Anything that had Scully act like that had to be worth seeing.  Mulder ripped the paper and pushed the box to her.  Scully lifted the lid and put it back on.  Mulder grabbed the box and pulled out a delicate deep blue negligee trimmed with satin and a matching robe.  He held it to the light and realized it was see through.  He turned to Scully and her face was buried in her hands.  “Every year, she sends me something like that.”

“You mean there are more like this somewhere in this apartment?  Have you no concept of sharing woman?”

“I didn’t think they’d fit you.”  She deadpanned.

Mulder slid from the couch to sit next to her.  “Scully, our partnership anniversary is next month; do you think I could have my present wrapped in this?”  He held up the gown by its thin straps and leaned in and kissed her, gently at first but quickly turning more demanding.  “I’d really like to see you wearing this, and then, not wearing it.”

“That might be arranged, you put the cake away and I’ll be right back.”  She grabbed the gown and walked away as Mulder gaped after her.

Mulder had picked up the torn paper and stacked the presents.  He put the remainder of the cake in the fridge and saw the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.  Scully was standing there in the confection of a nightgown, he said the only thing that came to him, “I thought this was your birthday not mine.”

Mulder woke to see Scully watching him.  “Happy leap birthday.”

“Why thank you.”  Her hands played with the covers over his body, rubbing from shoulder to waist.  “A present for me?  Why thank you Mulder,” and  she ripped the covers off of him.  “Oh! Mulder, it’s just what I wanted, how did you know?  Let’s plug it in now,” followed moments later by chorus of dual moaning.

“Scully,” Mulder said breathlessly, “I personally guaranteed this present for a lifetime of use.”

“Goo . . . oh ah, I’m mean good, yeah right there, um, guarantees are soooo uh, important. Oh, God, Mulder!”  Scully finally got out followed by a loud groan from Mulder.

Mulder caught his breath and kissed her over heated brow.  “A gift that keeps giving and giving.”

“That better be a promise Mulder.”

End

Sara B.

Author’s notes:  I used to live in Rhinebeck and there really was (is) a bakery that made a ‘Shit Cake.’ As gross as it looked it was by far one of the best tasting cakes I ever had the pleasure of eating.  I ordered one for my, soon to be transferred, boss, we hated to see him go – great guy!  A friend told me about the cakes and when I called I stumbled over what to call it and I said dung and the lady taking the order said ‘oh, you want a ‘shit cake!’  Can you hear someone blush over the phone?  If so she heard me.  You could get the cake in two sized, I got the large.  It was still frozen when I picked it up at 5:30 am but as it thawed it looked more and more realistic. 

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