Mulder woke up gay. He stretched and got off the couch humming a happy tune, which was not his usual routine. That routine was to pout, mourn, and make faces until he only had time to take a short shower and stuff a cream-filled donut into his mouth before running out of his apartment. This explained his new, no-care haircut that made him look like Harrison Ford in a bad way.
But this morning he trotted into the bathroom and into the shower, still humming cheerfully. It took him a moment to realize he was humming "Living La Vida Loca" but once he did, he broke into song as he turned on the hot water and scrubbed his hair. "Upside-inside-out-- living la vida locaaaaa-- she'll push and pull you out-- living la vida loca-- her lips are devil-red..."
He got out of the shower, wrapped a towel around himself and strolled back into his room. He continued to sing, suddenly remembering some of his favorite New Wave hits from college. He dropped Ricky Martin like a swizzle stick and began singing in full voice, "I'm on the hunt I'm after you-- dah dah dah dah, I'm lost and I'm found and I'm HUNGRY LIKE THE WOLF!"
He grabbed his casefiles and walked out of the apartment. Instead of looking full of man pain, he looked young, happy, full of pep and swing.
For the first time in a long time, he thought about his sister Samantha and didn't feel bad. He missed her, but he didn't feel guilty or depressed.
Mulder sashayed his way down into the Hoover Building, still humming a good collection of his New Wave and glam rock favorites. His eyes were bright, his countenance shining, and there was a spring in his step no one had ever seen before. He was gay, as gay as a spring morning, as gay as the 'Gay Nineties'.
When he saw Scully-- he was nice. He didn't feel conflicted with guilt or lust or codependency or any of the crippling range of slightly creepy emotions he felt whenever he saw her cool blue eyes or self-possessed step. He was just nice.
"Good morning, Scully," he said.
Scully, having resigned herself to the fact that she wasn't getting laid in the twentieth century, looked up. "Why are you in such a good mood?"
"It's a beautiful day, Scully. What's there not to be happy about?"
Scully sighed and slumped down in her chair. "I just realized how time is passing me by. I'm going to be forty soon, Mulder. Forty. And here I am, alone and lonely. In a basement, no less."
"Scully, Scully, Scully," he chanted in his best-imitation Jan Brady voice. "Think positive! You're a babe! I'm sure someday you'll find the right person. Because you are fabulous, absolutely fabulous."
He patted her knee and bounced away, excited to see what new and interesting case they could investigate today. Scully looked after the screamingly gay Mulder as he shimmied away and discreetly flipped him the bird.
"Hi, my name is Mulder and I can't take a hint," she muttered quietly, then returned to the letter from her sister in law Tara which had sparked her bad mood in the first place. But the inklings of fear had seeped into her mind about Mulder's sunny new outlook and matching fashion sense.
Mulder made his way up to Skinner's office, still singing. He had some papers he wanted the big guy to sign off on, and he let himself in, while singing cheerfully, "Like a virgin-- hee! touched for the very first time! Like a virgin when your heart beats next to mine-- ooh baby!"
Skinner stared over his glasses at Mulder. "Excuse me?" he asked sharply, wondering what insane crusade Mulder had gotten himself so exuberant over today.
"Morning, sir!" Mulder said cheerfully.
"Yes. Good morning. What sort of mutant X-File has put you in such an up mood?"
"Does it always have to be bizarre or inexplicable when a guy wakes up in a good mood?" Mulder asked, smiling. "I mean, not to be rude, but sir, lighten up! Enjoy what you have! Because you've got it!"
Skinner started to feel somewhat uncomfortable. "What?" he asked.
"Has anyone mentioned that you have a great body?" He continued to look at Skinner. "I mean, it's clear you work out, sir!"
Skinner's eyes bulged and he bit his lip. "Agent Mulder?"
Mulder walked closer to Skinner and coyly flicked the tip of his tie. "I've always liked your ties. They're so-- tight. They illustrate a man that is so full of tension that one day he's simply going to pop--"
Skinner frowned. It looked good on him. Then he looked skyward. "I should have known this day would come," he muttered.
The militant, insistent sound of extremely high heels attached to a vertically challenged woman rang through the hall in front of Skinner's office.
"Mulder!" Scully cried. She walked into the office and her eyes widened at the sight of Mulder with his hand on all that surly pectoral goodness. "Oh God. This is its own X-File and I think I have an explanation."
Skinner tried to get away from Mulder without looking like a complete ass.
"What happened, Scully?" he asked.
"We kissed and I said the world didn't end-- or he did, I don't remember!" Scully cried in distress. "But this is even worse. I kissed him and now he's-- well, look at him!"
Skinner looked at her and then at Mulder, who was obviously, painfully-- be honest now, Walter -- gay.
"Oh," he said. He thought about it. Then he shrugged. What the hell, he thought to himself. "Scully, would you excuse us? This is... a private matter."
Scully lifted both of her eyebrows, bit her lips, and did the slightly out of sync blink thing. "Okay! All right! Of COURSE it's private!" she shouted as she flounced out of Skinner's office.
Skinner turned to Mulder. "What are we going to do with you, Agent Mulder?"
Mulder smiled rakishly and started humming again. "Let's play master and servant-- let's play master and servant--" he sang, a happy gleam in his eye.
Songs used include Ricky Martin's "Livin' La Vida Loca," Duran Duran's "Hungry Like The Wolf," Madonna's "Like A Virgin" and Depeche Mode's "Master and Servant" which I also don't have copyright to. Duh.