Lost Time (the X Files)

Lost Time, Ch 4

Y/n's POV:

We touched down in London a little after three AM, so by the time we've collected our bags I'm absolutely exhausted and completely regretting packing so much, but I try not to show it. Despite my best intentions, I attempt to adjust my grip one too many times and the bags slip from my shoulders. Damn it.

To my surprise though, instead of gloating, Mulder silently grabs my bags, tucking them under his arms. I smile up at him gratefully but he just yawns in reply, heading for our cab.

'Mulder will you slow down? The hotel will still be there whether we get there in the next five minutes or not. Besides I'm tired and I don't want to have to run after you,' Scully groans.

'Sorry, you know I forget you have little legs. I just want to get to bed.'

I yawn as we catch him up. 'I think we all do, Mulder, you're not special in that respect.'

He stows the bags in the trunk and greets the taxi driver before holding the passenger door open for Scully. I slide into the backseat, leaning my head against the window. I'm just about to nod off when Mulder lumps in beside me and slams the door. I jump.

'Really?'

'What? Where did you expect me to sit, the roof?' He says defensively.

'Whatever. Just give me some peace.'

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Oh, God. I just woke up and I feel like death. I didn't realise jet lag could set in so quickly. My head feels seriously fuzzy as the car lights come on and Scully hands me a bottle of water. I close my eyes again.

Suddenly, my headrest moves and I snap awake in surprise. 

'Woah, hello. Don't give yourself whiplash, Y/n. Sorry I startled you. We're here.'

Mulder is looking down at me groggily and it's then that I realise my ''headrest'' was actually his leather jacket - which he was still wearing. 

I'd fallen asleep on Mulder's shoulder.

Oddly enough, he didn't seem to mind. Maybe it was the fact that it was almost four in the morning at this point, or maybe I was growing on him. Before I could ponder on this anymore, however, the taxi driver turns to us.

'Look friends, I haven't got all night. Out with you all. And that's twenty-five pounds please.' He says in a thick cockney accent.

I pay and thank the driver before crawling out of the car as Mulder and Scully lug the bags out of the trunk and towards the hotel foyer.

'Oh don't worry guys, I paid the driver!' I call after them, a little annoyed they had left me behind.

'Thanks!' Mulder calls back, nonchalantly.

God, I hate him.