Title: Be My Valentine

Author: J.D. Rush

Series: Big Things; follows 'And Then There Was One'

Rating: PG for language

Pairing: Frohike/Scully

Summary: Their first Valentine's Day. . .awwwwww!

Disclaimer: FOX, 1013, CC. . .I think we all know the song by now.

Spoiler Alert: Fleeting moment from "One Breath". You fans will know what it is.

BE MY VALENTINE

Thursday, February 14, 2002

DANA:

I tore into the kitchen like a bat out of hell and grabbed my lunch bag out of the fridge, barely taking notice of Frohike attempting to feed William his morning cereal, before I ran out of the room again.

"Hey, Dana--aren't you joining us for breakfast?" Mel called out.

"Breakfast?" I sniped, as I popped my head back around the corner. "Mel--it's quarter-past eight! I'm late. I'm VERY late! Why didn't you wake me up!?"

"Well, you were sleeping so well, and I know you've been tired lately and. . ."

"And now I'm late," I cut him off. "Don't ever do that again." Just the THOUGHT of the morning commute was giving me a headache.

He dropped his gaze towards the bowl of cereal and stirred it distractedly as he muttered, forlornly, "Sorry--thought I was doing something good."

Oh, yeah. Serious headache coming on. How can he make me feel so guilty over nothing? Because it WAS over nothing. And I had seriously overreacted. Sue me. I'm not at my best before my first cup of coffee.

 "I'm sorry, too, Mel," I apologized. "I didn't mean to snap at you like that. Look, I don't have time right now--we'll talk tonight, okay?"

I didn't even wait for an answer--precious seconds were ticking away. I snatched my coat off the rack in the hall, and just as I reached for my briefcase next to the telephone stand, I saw them: a card and a small heart-shaped box of chocolates sitting on top of my attaché. <Oh, God--no. It's Valentine's Day. SHIT! I didn't think he went in for sappy, commercially produced romantic claptrap like this.> "Frohike?" I asked, warily. "What is this?"

He came around the corner, the baby on his hip, pretending to investigate. "Don't know--but it looks like someone's sweet on you. Why don't you read it and find out?"

Oh, jeez, I did NOT have time for this, but since I had already been a royal bitch to him, I really had no choice. I opened the card--a silly little piece of fluff with teddy bears and hearts--and laughed when I saw whom it was from: William F. Scully. "Wow, he's got great penmanship for an infant," I commented.

"Must be one of those prodigies you hear about," he joked.

"Thank you. Both of you." I leaned over to give my son a kiss--or rather, I tried to. William still wasn't very adept at eating his cereal, and both he and Mel were literally covered in it. 

Frohike pointed to a spot on the baby's cheek and quipped, "Here's a clean spot."

I gave Will a kiss, and Mel one, too, while I was at it. "See you boys tonight." I turned to leave, getting halfway out the door when Frohike said, "Dana?"

I turned back. "Mel--? I. . ."

"I know--you're late," he finished. "Here." He handed me another Mylar sack, similar to my lunch bag. "Danish and coffee."

If I hadn't been so late, I'd have hugged him, and never let go. "Frohike, I owe you."

"Yeah, I'll add it to my tab. Hey, Billy--wave bye-bye to mommy." With Mel holding his little arm, and helping him out, he did, giving me a big two-toothed grin at the same time. 

It almost killed me to leave them like that.

+++++++++++++++

"Hey, Dana."

"Hi, Andie." The cheerful blonde was sitting in the teacher's lounge when I entered, working on her daily New York Times crossword puzzle. Andrea Sutton had been one my mentors when I first came to Quantico from med school, and she became almost like a sister to me. We somehow managed to lose touch over the years, but one of the joys of this new job was the chance to be able to renew my friendship with her.

"We missed you at this morning's bull session. Tomas brought in Krispy Kremes."

Damn. I LOVE Krispy Kremes. (Well, the diet-fairy would be happy I missed out.) "Yeah, I was late. Barely made it to class."

"Alarm didn't go off?"

"You could say that. Mel didn't wake me up--said I needed my sleep. Didn't even get a chance to eat breakfast and I'm STARVING!" All I had put in my system so far was the coffee Frohike had packed for me, which I drank on the way to work over two hours ago.

"Well, there may be some donuts hanging around, but all the good gooey ones are gone."

"That's okay. I just need a cup of coffee. Mel packed me a Danish."

She just looked at me and smiled. "That was sweet of him."

"Yeah, it was." I went over to the microwave to warm up my pastry while Andie poured us some coffee. "You wanna hear really sweet, though? He got me a little candy heart and a card from my son."

"Now THAT is just too cute," she giggled. "You're so lucky, Dana. This Mel sounds like a great guy."

I felt a big smile crossing my face. "I am. And he is." 

The microwave 'pinged', and I grabbed my breakfast. "You know, if we take this down to my office, we can go over those lecture notes I was telling you about."

"Works for me," Andie answered, already leading the way, mugs in hand.

We had no sooner gotten to my office and made ourselves comfortable when there was a knock on the cracked-open door. A head poked into the gap--it was Dean, one of the security guards. "Dr. Scully? I hate to bother you, but these just arrived for you upstairs." And with that, he walked into my office, holding a glass vase containing a dozen long-stemmed red roses. I was too stunned to even say thank you as he turned and left.

Andie couldn't wait. She pulled off the card and handed it to me. "Who are they from?" she asked eagerly.

I held the little card between trembling fingers. Who would send me roses for Valentine's Day? Mulder? Hardly. He doesn't have a romantic bone in his body. Skinner? No. Maybe for Mother's Day, but not for Valentine's Day. And never roses. I slipped the card from its little envelope, and stared incredulously at the inscription:

"To the classiest dame in town, from the luckiest man of them all."

                                                                                   --Frohike

"Well? Who are they from?" Andie asked again, impatiently.

It took a moment for me to get my brain in gear and my mouth working. "My. . . my husband," I finally managed to get out.

"Oh, my goodness!" Andie declared, obviously impressed. "Dana, this one is a keeper!"

"But I. . .I didn't get him anything," I moaned in distress. "I mean, I didn't think he went in for all this romantic nonsense."

"He never sent you flowers before?" she queried.

I thought back to when I was dying in the hospital. . .well, ONE of the times I was dying in the hospital. Frohike had been the only person who had brought me flowers. "Yes, he has," I admitted, "but I never thought he'd. . .oh, hell, what am I going to do?"

"Look, it's very simple," Andie told me, calmly. "Just go down to Victoria Secrets and pick up a nice silk teddy."

"For my husband?" I yelped.

"No, silly--for you! Hubby just gets to unwrap the gift, if you get my meaning," she said with a quick meaningful elbow jab to my ribs.

I gasped for air--and all I could think of is that I must've looked like a fish. The thought that me and Frohike could. . . oh, God. "Ahhh--maybe not. I'll just pick up something on the way home for supper," I decided. "That way he won't have to cook tonight."

"COOK!?!? He COOKS for you, too?!?" she squealed, her voice going up a couple of octaves.

"Well, yeah. He and the baby get home before I do," I explained.

"He picks up the child at day care for you?" By now her voice was so shrill dogs could hear her a mile away.

"No--he, ah. . .he watches William during the day," I tried to clarify. "He's in business for himself and. . ."

She stared at me for a beat, clearly thinking I was out of my mind, before she stated, slowly and deliberately, "Let me get this straight. Your husband baby sits your child, cooks your meals, packs you breakfast because he lets you sleep late AND sends you a huge bouquet of roses for Valentine's Day? Oh, honey, forget the teddy. . ."

"Was planning to," I muttered.

"We're talking the whole Victoria Secret's line on this one--the bra, the panties, the stockings, the garters. Should I cancel all your classes for tomorrow? I have the feeling you might not make it in!" she chuckled as she gave me a knowing wink.

The thoughts running through my brain were shocking and exciting and thrilling and. . .oh, God! My bubble bath dream immediately sprung to mind as I imagined it coming true. Or maybe in the shower? Or on the wet tiled floor? Or maybe someplace normal, like a bed? My bed? Melvin Frohike in my bed?

Oh, yes. On my frilly, feminine bed. He'd take me and ravage me in an act of savage passion that would leave us both breathless and weak-kneed for a week. 

No, wait. Not Mel. He talks a good game, but if push came to shove--he'd make love to me. Slow, gentle, tender love, unlike anything I'd ever felt before. From the top of my head to the tips of my toes, he'd worship every inch of me as if I were a goddess. He'd treat me like fine china, handling me with kid-gloves. Gloves. His gloves. Yes. He'd be wearing those little leather gloves. Definitely the gloves.

"Dana, are you okay?"

"Huh?"

"You zoned out on me. And you're so red, you look like you're going to pass out."

My hand flew up to my cheek to find it burning white-hot. "Ah, Andie. . .I'll be right back." Fleeing before she could ask me any further questions, I dashed out of the office and ran to the ladies' room. The sink was beckoning to me, and I answered its call. I turned on the cold water and splashed some into my face, trying to cool down, trying to control my hyper breathing. <Get a grip, Dana. It was just a dream, remember?>

But I didn't know if I wanted it to be just a dream any more.

What the hell was happening to me? When had I started thinking of Frohike like this? Having all these sexual thoughts about him? It didn't start with the dream, although that was probably the first time I ever acknowledge my changing feelings for him.

Okay, so he wasn't handsome. Since when did that ever mean anything to me? I had dated men in the past that didn't fit the conventional definition of 'handsome'. And there was something about Mel that was strangely alluring. Maybe the way he carried himself, or his air of mystery. Whatever it was, I had found myself more and more attracted to him in recent weeks.

And yes, he wasn't exactly the most cultured man around, but again, what does that matter in the long run? It's what's inside someone that's important--and deep down, Mel is one of the most beautiful people I've ever known. He may not be Oxford finished, but he was his own man, one who didn't compromise his beliefs for anyone.

Was it because he treated me like a queen, pampering me to within an inch of my life? Maybe I was getting close. All the little things he did for me, to make me happy, to make my life easier, to show how much he appreciated me--they really did go a long way. 

But I think what changed my image of Mel was the way he interacted with me on a daily level. He treated me with kindness, devotion, and respect. The vows of 'love, honor, and cherish' that he took weren't just words to him. He made me feel special--not just by the things he bought me, but simply by the way he gave of himself, letting me know every day that I was the most important person in his life. I've known for years how much he lusted after me, but until the day he proposed to me, I didn't know how much he truly loved me.

Now I did. And trust me, nothing was sexier than that.

Somehow, someway, I made it through the rest of the day, but I'm still not sure how. I was in a fog most of the afternoon, which probably explains why no one was surprised when I left after my last class at 2:00--something I NEVER did. I drove to the mall in a daze, parked the car in a daze, and walked into Victoria Secrets in a daze. And all the time, the voices echoed in my head:

<I can't do this. I can't seduce Frohike. For a bunch of flowers? It has to be more. I mean, he's going to think I did it just to be nice, or because I got swept up in the day and maybe I have. No. I want him. I most definitely want him, and this is the perfect opportunity. No, it's not. It can't happen because Hallmark tells us it should. It has to be his decision, too. Oh, yeah, right, like he'd turn me down. He's wanted me for nearly a decade. Which means it should be special. . .>

All these thoughts ran through my head as I browsed through the slinky merchandise. No matter what Andie said, it just didn't feel right. With a sigh, I circled around--finding myself facing the store across the way. A computer store. THAT'S IT!! Frohike would LOVE something for his computer. But even as I was sprinting across the hall, I realized it was a stupid idea--I mean, how romantic can you get, Dana? Computer stuff? But still, I gave it a try. . .and I did finally find something I was sure he'd like.

++++++++

I was sitting on the couch reading when Frohike walked through the door. He saw me lounging in a pair of gray leggings and a sky-blue angora turtleneck sweater--definitely not the clothes I had left for work in this morning--and asked, anxiously, "Dana? You're home already? Is everything okay?" 

"Yeah, everything's fine," I quickly assured him. "I just had a couple of errands to run, so I left after my last class."

"You shoulda just called me," he insisted. "I'd have done them for you."

"I know. But these were of a--personal nature," I responded vaguely.

"Oh. A PERSONAL nature," he repeated, skeptically. "Perhaps it's better that I don't know after all. It might demystify some of that 'feminine mystique' of yours."

I laughed, even as I got up and went over to where he stood. I took William's car carrier from him so he could remove his coat; a quick downward glance at my adorable child showed he was fast asleep. I placed the carrier on the coffee table and gave him a quick kiss on his cold little cheek, deciding I'd change him out of his snowsuit when he woke up. With William out of commission, I had the perfect chance to spring my surprise. While Mel's back was turned to me, I pulled a wrapped rectangular box from behind one of the sofa cushions. When he turned back to me, I held it out and exclaimed, "Happy Valentine's Day!"

He took the gift from me and stared at it for a moment. "Aw, Dana--you didn't have to do that," he told me, clearly uncomfortable. 

"Well, I had to do SOMETHING to thank you for those beautiful flowers you sent me," I explained. "You really surprised me--I didn't think you believed in this sappy manufactured holiday."

"Normally I don't," he agreed. "But since it was our first one, I figured I should do something special."

"Oh, they were definitely special and very unexpected. Thank you."

"So you liked them?" 

"Are you kidding me? I was the envy of every woman in my department. I better watch out or one of them might steal you away from me," I teased.

That got a hearty laugh. "Not in THIS lifetime," he promised me as he unwrapped the thin box and lifted the lid. He looked at what nestled inside, then looked up at me, his face showing his bafflement. Then he looked back at the gift before stammering, "Ah, Dana. . . it's . . .nice. Thank you." He again looked at me, his face still scrunched up in confusion. "What, um, what exactly is it?" 

"It's a picture frame that you can attach to your computer monitor," I informed him, proudly. 

"Oh. Okay. Thank you," he said again, a little more convincingly now that he knew what it was, but still obviously perplexed by the gift. After a pause, he asked, "Any chance I could have a nice picture of you and Billy to put in it?" 

I found myself practically bouncing with uncontained enthusiasm. "Look under the tissue paper," I told him excitedly. He was going to LOVE this! 

"What the. . .?" He pulled out the small cardboard rectangle--if he was stumped before, he was totally flummoxed now. "An appointment card? For what?"

"A family portrait sitting. For the three of us," I explained, broad grin on my face. "We don't have a shot of the whole family and mom's been bugging me for one. Plus we need one for the apartment, and I want one for my desk and. . ."

I watched in dismay as Frohike's eyes filled with tears and he whispered a husky, "Thank you, Dana."

"Mel, this wasn't supposed to make you cry," I told him, worried at how emotional he was getting.

"I'm not," he protested, even as he wiped the moisture from his cheek with the back of his hand. Looking back down at the frame and the appointment card, he shook his head in amazement and smiled.   "How did you ever know?"

I shrugged my shoulders, trying to appear cavalier, but inwardly pleased that I had done such a good job. "Lucky guess. You like it?"

The smile got even bigger. "I love it."

"So. . .I can return this?" I pulled a skimpy little see-thru pink teddy, trimmed with fake ostrich feathers, from behind one of the other couch cushions.

His eyes almost bugged out of his head and he let out a nervous chuckle, "Yeah. It's not really my color." Shaking his head one more time, he murmured, "I don't know what to say."

"You'll be my Valentine?" I supplied helpfully.

"You have to ask?" He stepped forward, wrapped me in a loving embrace, and kissed me. And it was like the first time he kissed me, and like the kiss under the mistletoe, and that blinding kiss at the New Year's party--all fireworks and sky rockets and sonic booms and as I felt his tongue lick across my lips I began to reconsider my decision not to drag him off into my bedroom after all. 

But whatever momentum we were building up came to a sudden halt when he gently pulled away from me. And I could see it in his eyes, how much he wanted me, how much he desired me. How much he wished he could make love to me. But that wasn't part of the contract. And Melvin Frohike was a man of his word. So he pulled away, continuing to honor our agreement, continuing to suffer his frustration nobly. 

If he only knew he wasn't suffering alone.

"I. . .um. . .I better get dinner ready," he stammered, trying to hide his real feelings.

I swallowed hard, trying to gain some composure myself. "No need. I picked up some cheese steaks on the way home."

His eyes got as big as saucers and sparkled like a million stars. "You didn't?!"

"Hmmm-mmm--they're warming in the oven," I answered smugly. "And there's a six-pack of Bud Lite in the fridge."

"You are an angel! I love you, Dana." And with that, he scampered off to the kitchen.

"I love you, too, Frohike," I whispered to myself when he was out of earshot. Maybe someday I'd be able to say it to his face. I folded up the little negligee and placed it back in its bag, fully intending on returning it in the morning. And then I thought differently of it. 

While Mel was busy getting dinner on the table, I slipped into my bedroom, and hid the nightie in the back of my dresser drawer. Who knows--it may come in handy someday.

THE END