Here I begin another saga, a collection of songfics on certain themes within the X-Files. I recommed looking up these songs and listening to them so that you get the feel for the music. This first one is The Ronettes' Be My Baby.


Mulder and Scully sat in the car, silence thick between them. Mulder's arms were tight, elbows locked in the ten to two position on the wheel. Scully was entertaining herself with the sparse view.

The quiet was oppressive. The two had not talked in nearly three hours, passing road signs and weeds and the occasional hubcap in stubborn silence.

Their latest case had not been a success, to say the least. Mulder had done a Mulder; that is to say, had run off following an intriguing (for him) lead, leaving Scully to slice up bodies, sigh and deal with the idiots in local law enforcement.

Scully felt the sting of being ditched every time, and Mulder didn't seem to a) understand what it was he had done wrong, and b) care. They were supposed to be a partnership, a meeting of two minds, but Scully still felt acutely like the sidekick.

So she let him drive. Let him feel like the big macho man. She could keep her silent treatment going for eons.

Mulder could feel Scully's bad mood glaring at him, digging holes in his skin. Even if the redhead in question was staring vacantly out of the window, the mood was as present in the car as they were. Her neat little hands were coiled fists, her left on her thigh, her right burrowed in the space behind her ear, with her elbow resting on the car window shelf. Her fingers played with the darker hairs at the nape of her neck, and Scully wondered if she ought to get it trimmed soon. She was an old hand at letting people stew. She could sit Mulder out, easy.

Mulder wasn't quite so assured. His eyes kept shifting over to his partner, feeling the guilt squeeze his heart in a vice grip. Scully didn't give him an inch, and all he got was the back of her coiffed head.

Mulder coughed. Scully didn't move. He didn't want to cough again, worried he'd cause the patented Scullyglare. Fearsome and terrible to behold, and excruciating to be on the receiving end of it.

Finally, he couldn't take it any longer.

Before he could stop himself, with one last glance to his partner, Mulder steeled himself. His finger pressed the button. Scully whipped her head around as "Be My Baby" flooded the car. Her surprise was written clear across her face, as the sickly-sweet tune filled the space between them.

"Mulder." She called, in a dull tone. She wasn't going to let him think it was that easy to make her crack.

"Be my, be my baby, my one and only baby!" Mulder sang, tapping the beat on the top of the steering wheel with his long fingers.

Scully could only watch in disbelief as Mulder, for lack of a better term, went for it.

"Mulder!" She tried again.

"Say you'll be my darling, be my baby now, oh oh oh oh oh oh!" His voice cracked in falsetto. Scully couldn't help it, she let out a laugh.

She was still irritated at his conduct, but the sight of her spooky partner singing loudly to the lovestruck Ronettes was too much for her sense of humour to handle. Smirking, she joined in. The sullen silence has dissipated, for now, as the two FBI partners sang badly a cheesy 60s classic.


Thank you for your time, review if you please!