Title: The Vex-Files
Keywords: Humor, UST
Summary: Heat can go both ways -- irritation or attraction.
Archive: Oh please do, just leave it like it is and let me know
Feedback: Yes please. I ain't too proud to beg, but I would
rather it not come to that. email@example.com
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
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 Fox Mulder and Dana 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
"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
"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
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
"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
"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
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
"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
"So do you," she choked out, trying to keep her voice neutral and
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
"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
"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
Notes: Did you like it? Maybe even love it a little? Tell me!