Not Exactly Martha Stewart

Sara B. 8/05

Mulder surveyed the room around him and wanted to cry but that was a humiliation he preferred to do in private, not in front of the love of his life, Scully.  Nothing resembled the vision he’d had in his mind.  How could something so simple go to hell so fast?

It had all started so simply, so reasonably . . .

Their partnership anniversary was approaching and Mulder wanted to do something special to celebrate.  He knew that Scully forgave him but he still was mad at himself for messing up her birthday; though she had nothing about her ‘leap birthday’ to complain about.  The memory of how she ‘unwrapped’ him the next morning always caused some serious stirrings in his nether regions.  Scully certainly knew how to appreciate a gift!

Mulder shook his head; he needed to get busy putting his plans into action. 

He’d been able to bribe himself into reservations at Tempest.  That had been a hard won battle.  It took two football tickets and a bottle of some sort of Cognac that was apparently top notch but extremely hard to find and, as luck would have it, he’d inherited a couple cases of it from his father.  There was also the two hundred and fifty dollars pre-charged on his credit card and a lot of begging later, and the owner still didn't relent. It was only when Mulder pulled out Scully's picture that the guy gave in.  Mulder still wasn’t sure he liked that or not, but he let it go. 

Once ‘Paolo’ saw Scully’s photo he started rattling off a special menu and Mulder stopped him when he got to the dessert.  ‘Paolo’ would have the privilege of the rest of the meal but dessert was his. 

In the last several months Mulder learned that Scully loved to share the fun parts of his past.  He also was surprised at how many fun parts there actually had been.  Most of the time he only remembered the pain, but Scully brought back the good things and he found out that he liked to share them as much as she did.  One of his favorite memories was a long weekend he spent in Wales.  He’d just broken up with Phoebe for the third or fourth time and his friend Sam Brace invited him to join him for a visit.  The trip was just what he needed to clear his head from Phoebe’s mind games.  It was there that he was introduced to Bara Brith, a sort of shortbread that you ate with butter.  Mulder was going to share Bara Brith with Scully.

Mulder saw the evening play out in his head.  A fine dinner at Tempest, complete with a fawning Paolo, then back to his place for dessert, then DESSERT!  Another thing he discovered about Scully was that she loved desserts.  She didn’t indulge very often but when she did he always wanted to be around.  You see, when Scully eats dessert she also get amorous, extremely amorous; and that is when he gets his just desserts.

The fly in the ointment was that he couldn’t find any place that sold Bara Brith.  He’d called every bakery within a hundred miles and only a few had even heard of it. 

He was lamenting at the Gunmen’s when Byers suggested, ‘why don’t you make it yourself?  Frohike can help you, I’m sure he can get a recipe.’  Great idea! 

Just fucking fabulous!

Frohike searched the internet and found a recipe, printed it and a shopping list out.  Mulder wanted the cake to be fresh so they weren’t going to make it until the day of their anniversary, but Frohike thought they should go shopping a few days earlier in case they had trouble finding any ingredients.

Frohike examined the list.  “Anyone have an idea what sultanas are?”  No one spoke up so he went to ‘OCHEF.Com’ and asked.  “Why the hell couldn’t the damned recipe say golden raisins?”  He looked back at the list, mixed spices so he checked that out and saw that they could use pumpkin pie spice.

Six forty-five on March sixth found Mulder standing in his kitchen waiting for Scully to arrive.  He was dressed in a new suit with a completely un-Mulder like conservative tie that he’d found at the back of his closet and a huge grin on his face.  Frohike had bailed on him at the last minute but he followed the recipe and he was quite proud of the outcome.  He opened the oven door. . .

Dana Scully was taking one last appraisal, blue dress with a modest front but a deep cut back, three inch spiky sandals and extremely sheer black silk stockings -- no pantyhose tonight thank you very much.  Her make up was sultry and her hair was an engineering masterpiece created with mousse, hairspray and several well positioned pins. 

Satisfied, she poised her hand to knock when she heard a loud ‘whoosh.’  “Mulder!”  She tried the knob and the door opened.  Carefully she entered the apartment, weapon drawn. 

Mulder was sitting on his kitchen floor covered in some sort of half cooked batter and the saddest look of complete dejection.

Scully nearly broke out laughing but quickly composed herself, all thoughts of merriment dissolved when she saw Mulder’s sad eyes.  “Mulder?”  That one word asking so many questions.

Mulder’s hands lifted as if to say he gave up.  He took a deep breath then tried to tell her about all his plans, Bara Brith, that he couldn’t find it at any bakery and the recipe.  He told her of how he had to bribe that snotty restaurateur.  He talked so fast that Scully had a hard time keeping up with him.  “And, Scully, after everything he still wasn’t going to give me a reservation.  It took showing him your picture that made him finally give in.  I didn’t like that but you wanted to try the place.”

“Well, then I think it’s a good thing we won’t be going there.  I’d have to break his heart and he might poison our food.”  Scully sat down next to Mulder in the mess.

“Scully!  Your dress.”

“Don’t worry about my dress,” she leaned in and nibbled some of the batter stuck to his chin.  “God, Mulder you taste terrific.”  She took another nibble from his neck,  “And this batter is pretty good too.”

“Stop it Scully, just stop it!  I messed up another one.”  Mulder’s head fell into his hands.  “Just like your birthday.”

“Messed up?  What are you talking about?  Mulder, anyone can celebrate a birthday but I am the only person in the world with the leap birthday, and you gave it to me.  That day is ours and ours alone.  And if you think you messed up today, well you’re right; you aren’t exactly Martha Stewart.  You messed up your kitchen, that’s a given,”  She waved her hands in front of him adding, “you may have ruined that new suit, you look gorgeous in it by the way.  And you messed up the cake but, Mulder, who else would have even tried?  No one else, just you, just my Mulder. 

“We both know you are not mister domestic but you did this for me because you wanted to share something special with me.  Do you have any idea how big that is?”  Scully nuzzled his neck, “on the scale of boyfriend points this is off the charts.”

Mulder’s head rose and he met her eyes.  He saw merriment, admiration and overwhelming love.  “I love you, Fox William Mulder, the man who opened my mind, my heart and gave me my own holiday.”  They leaned in for a slow, deep kiss.  “Now come on we need to get cleaned up.”  Scully lead him to the bathroom where they gave each other a very thorough cleansing until the hot water gave out.  Mulder would never again complain about her zealousness for cleaning.

Mulder followed Scully to the bed where she pushed him down.  A few minutes later, “Mulder, there’s another reason it’s a good thing we never went to that restaurant.”  Scully teased breathlessly.

Mulder watched her straddle his body.  “Why’s that?”  He was proud that he could string two whole words together.

“It would have been our first official date and, I NEVER sleep with someone on the first date.”  Scully replied as she started making serious work of his body.

“I, ah, I’ll, oh God!  Yeah right there.  Um, you realize now we, ooh, will, God, never go on, oh, oh OH!  Sculleeeee!”

“Happy anniversary partner.”