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TITLE: Color me embarrassed. 


Rating: PG 

Classification: MSR (Almost MSFluff!) 

Spoilers: None  

Disclaimer: Not mine, no profit, no harm. 

Summary: For the November MR challenge Theme: "Don't make me show / tell Scully" Muhaa haa haa 



Color me Embarrassed


FBI Basement Office


Mulder's smile was slow and languid. He spoke softly into the phone and Scully didn't know to whom but the facial expressions he was making were speaking volumes.  He laughed with velvety sultry tones as he leaned back in his chair and ran a distracted hand through his hair.  

Intrigued by his actions, Scully looked carefully and caught the beginning of a blush creeping up his neck and staining his cheeks before he glanced at her and she looked away. She tried to concentrate on her pc but could still make out his voice as he muttered the final words of his conversation. 

"Okay, see you there later...yeah, I'm looking forward to it too," he chuckled before he hung up and glanced over to Scully. 

She could feel his eyes on her but refused to look up. Focusing harder on the screen before her she tried to get back to what she was working on. Without a word he pushed his chair away from his desk and ambled over to her. Picking up a pencil that lay abandoned on her desk, he twiddled it between his fingers as he perched on the corner of her small desk and watched her.  Frowning at the screen she fought the color from her cheeks and turned to face him with an eyebrow arched in feigned derision.   

"What is it Mulder?" she asked eventually, turning back to her screen and typing something completely out of context. With the mouse she highlighted her last sentence then deleted it, hoping he didn't notice. 

"I thought maybe you had something to ask me. I thought you were staring at me trying to get my attention." 

"I wasn't staring," she protested as she stood and walked over to the cabinet to get away from his close proximity. 

"C'mon Scully, out with it." He watched as she flustered with the files and tried her best to ignore him. 

"I don't know what you're talking about. And if you don't mind Mulder I have reports to be writing." 

"Okay, okay!" he held his hands up in defense with a flourish and backed away, but he was still smiling his Cheshire grin when he claimed his own seat.  

"Anyway, I have to go soon." 

"Oh?" Glancing at her watch she saw it was only three thirty. 

"Didn’t I tell you?" he looked at her in mock confusion as he rolled down his sleeves and fastened the cuffs. "Chuck is throwing a bachelor party." 

"Chuck Burkes?" she asked, he eyebrows arching in surprise. 

"Yeah. Can you believe it? He’s tying the old knot." He pulled on his coat and scarf. "Maybe there is hope for the rest of us!"  He walked over to the door and held it open but instead of leaving he turned back to her with another knowing smile. "Goodnight Scully! Don't wait up!"  She rolled her eyes as he left with a laugh and turned back to her screen. 


Mulder’s Place.

Alexandria Apartment


A deep hard thudding smashed rhythmically against his head.  The darkness was spotted with a piercing of sharp painful light but he couldn't seem to stop it. Trying desperately to open his eyes it suddenly dawned on him that the high pitched screeching he could hear his was his alarm clock..  Blindly he reached out to shut it off, groaning, but his normally nimble fingers seemed stiff and incontrollable as he fumbled on the dresser for the right button. 

With a frustrated sigh he dragged his arm back and instead covered his head with a pillow. But it didn’t work. Nothing seemed to stop the stabbing noise that penetrated his very core. Forcing his eyes open he rolled over towards the dresser and grabbed the clock. Slamming his palm onto the top the sounds suddenly stopped, leaving only the persistent residual thud in his head.  

Mulder took a moment to take a deep breath, to ready himself for when he'd stand up.  He braced himself on the side of the bed, gripping the mattress and holding his breath as he sat up and levered his feet onto the floor.  

The room spun with ferocious swirls batting him back against the bed, but he held fast and even managed to stand up.  Unsteadily he moved his aching and uncooperative limbs towards the bathroom, banging his shoulder into the doorframe. He swore creatively before stumbling forward.  He managed to make it to the toilet where thankfully instinct took over and he didn’t need to think anymore.  

Adjusting his boxers he approached the sink, trying to block out the tremendous roar of the toilet’s flush. He caught sight of his pale skin in the mirror. His eyes were red rimmed and bloodshot with dark weary circles beneath them.  Leaning in closer he pulled on his skin as he tried to massage some color into his cheeks.  

"It's going to be a long day." He muttered, instantly regretting it as his voice echoed around the room shattering the quiet he was craving.  

With a wince he leaned into the bath and flicked on the shower. Hot water immediately hit his palm and as quick as he could manage he stepped out of his shorts and into the bath. The water battered against his chest removing the grime and dirt and the smell of cigar smoke from the tacky bar, he could feel clinging desperately to his skin. It was helping, a little. 

Opening his mouth he filled it with warm water and gurgled it before spitting it out. His eyes were heavy and his body ached but as his cluttered mind replayed the night's activities he couldn't help but smile. The stripper was mediocre he mused when he remembered her dancing awkwardly over Chuck’s lap. Her nurse's uniform was more than a couple of sizes too small with pounds of her tanned flesh hanging out of it but no one in the room seemed to mind.  

At the distant memory of her approaching him, Mulder shook his head but immediately stopped, grabbing it instead with both hands, to ease the pain. She had climbed onto his lap and gyrated suggestively much to the amusement of the other bachelors who hooted and whistled.  But when her lips grazed his neck, then her teeth he, as politely as he could, removed her from his knees and steered her towards the next booze soaked victim.  

Mulder climbed out of the shower and carefully brushed his teeth over the sink. Every brush and swipe sent a shockwave of unbearable pain into his head.  Eventually rinsing it out he made his way back to his room, slowly rubbing himself dry with a large white towel. Even the feeling of the soft fleecy cotton on his skin hurt. With careful measured steps he ambled to the wardrobe and pulled out his suit, spying the one he was wearing last night piled up unceremoniously on the floor. 

After extracting himself from the stripper he’d spotted Chuck by the bar nursing a small whiskey. After ordering his own drink Mulder sat next to him and waited. Chuck glanced up and saw it was Mulder before letting the soft tears fall over his gently rounded cheeks. 

"Chuck?" Mulder said uncertainly. 

"Can you believe it Mulder?" he said his tears turning into a smile. "She really loves me!" He let out a whoop of joy and swallowed his drink with one gulp. Mulder patted him on the back, grinning stupidly at him.  

          Mulder laughed at the memory and pulled on his trousers, leaving the shirt till last, hoping his fingers would have regained enough co ordination to do up the buttons by then. He sat on the bed he leaned down to fix his shoes, but as the blood rushed to his head he felt the nausea push forward to demand attention. Breakfast; in fact any sort of food was probably not a good idea if his stomach was anything to go by. 

          Sitting up he calmed it down and closed his eyes to push it away.  His mind muddled through the drinks; weird antics of the inebriated and cocktail sausages, playing in his brain like a badly edited movie. He vaguely remembered leaving the club. With Chuck? He wondered as he recalled calling a cab and climbing in with two other men.   

          Rather then forcing the memory, Mulder stood up and pulled on his shirt. A tingling pain struck his shoulder and he reached around to massage it out, it was then that he spotted the blood on his bed sheet. A moment of hot panic flittered through his body as he ran his hands over his bared chest to check for injury but found nothing. 

          Then as he recalled stepping out of the taxi with the other guys last night, he knew as pale as he was before it would be nothing to what he was feeling right now, with panic gripping him tightly. Blinking his eyes as if hoping he'd wake up he slowly walked into the bathroom, shedding his clean shirt on to the wet floor on the way.  

          The bathroom light was bright and glaring compared to the dimmer bedroom glow. Turning his back to the mirror he slowly turned his head around and then he saw it. It couldn't have been bigger then his fist he realized but took little comfort from the fact as he spied the pink heart shaped tattoo that covered his left shoulder blade. Oh. My. God. 

          The memory of how he acquired it flooded back with ferocious glee as he recalled stepping into the dank parlor with Chuck and another man, whose name he couldn't even recall now. He remembered pulling off his shirt and lying on the table as the large pierced man approached him.  

          Straining his neck now to get a better look, he eased closer to the bathroom counter and saw the simple black text in the center of the heart. His eyes widened in disbelief and he felt the color of mortification rise over his cheeks.  


          Her name was spelled out in a beautiful calligraphic script with curves around the S and the Y, joining up in Celtic designs. The tattoo was red and tender and with some blood seeping from the edges.  With a heavy head he went out to the kitchen where the first aid kit was. Awkwardly he taped the double dressing over it and hoped it would stay in place.

          He dressed as quick as his aching body would allow and rushed out to go to work, eager to get the day over to start the weekend and solve his problem in peace. He reached his desk thankfully before she did and was seated securely engrossed in booting up his PC when she ambled in, carrying with her the delicious aroma of coffee and croissants. 

"Mulder!" she said in surprise. "I didn't expect to see you in so early. Did you have a good time?" 

"Yeah, yeah it was fine." 

          Scully sat down switching on her PC and pulling a folder before opening her coffee and taking a croissant from the paper bag. 

"So, tell me about it!" she asked smiling and sipping. 

"Nothing to tell. Usual bachelor stuff!" he murmured fiddling with something in his drawer to avoid her eyes. 

"Strippers and shots?" 

"Something like that." 

"Oh Mulder you're being very cagey!" she laughed as she finished off the croissant and walked over to hand him the other one. "Here eat something. You'll feel better." 

"Thanks." He took it form the bag but his stomach lurched at the thought of the effort of ingestion so he left it carefully on top of the files in his inbox. "I spoke to Skinner earlier about the Winfield court case.  He said I should fly out on Wednesday and give my report in person." 

"Really?" she was walking away from him but turned on her heel when she heard what he said. 

"He said it would be better for bureau / precinct relations if I did." 

"I suppose he does have a point. You did stir up a hornet’s nest out there." 

"I did not!" he argued indignantly, forgetting his embarrassment for a moment, his hazel eyes collided with her blue ones. "It's not my fault!" 

"It never is Mulder! You just have the knack. It’s an X file." She laughed as she logged onto her pc and immersed herself into the backlog of reports.  

          He let her comment pass without retribution as he reached for the paper and leaned back in his chair only to sit up quickly with a yelp. The corner of his chair had connected with the bandage and dragged it across his sensitive skin. Scully’s head shot up and glanced over at him, frowning at the sight of his arm bent over his shoulder and patting his back. 

"You ok Mulder?" she queried. 

"Yeah, just a twinge.” He made a show of rotating his shoulder as if trying to stretch the muscle. “I think I slept on my arm funny," he added as he saw her hands grip the table to push her chair back. "I'll be fine!" 

          She seemed to believe him and he sighed with relief when she turned back to her screen. Mulder sat forward and tried to focus on the screen.  Words and letters flew about the screen hiding their meaning from his confused eyes as his mind wandered in and out of the present. But eventually lunchtime arrived and he felt a pillow of reprieve envelope him as she stood and gathered her files.  

"Okay I have to go to the coroner's office." 


"Our reports are clashing," she explained as she locked her briefcase. "I don't think I'll be back later so I'll see you Monday." 

"Okay Scully. See you then." 

          He waved her off with a smile and let out a deep breath he wasn't even aware he'd been holding.  Easing himself off the chair he slipped off his jacket and loosened his tie enough to pull it off over his head. He was in the middle of undoing his shirt when there was a soft rap at the door. It was pushed open immediately after and Skinner stepped him.

          Stopping in his tracks at the sight of an undressing Mulder, Skinner glanced around the room as if looking for someone else. 

"Agent?" Skinner queried, seeing the room empty except for Mulder’s rapidly coloring face. 

"Sir...its...not…entirely explainable..." Mulder said doing up his shirt buttons again. 

"Try, Agent Mulder, Try to explain to my why you are standing alone in your office half dressed." 

"Isn't it better that I am alone?" Mulder stalled hoping to squirm out of this situation without revealing the truth. 

"Agent Mulder?" he pursed his lips in supplication and nodded. 

"Okay sir...It's simple really. I have an injury on my back and I'm just about to check the dressing." 

"Oh." Skinner seemed to accept this explanation. "Isn't Agent Scully about to give you a hand?" Mulder suppressed a giggle at the sudden image that wandered through his head at the remark; vastly different from the way his boss meant it. 

"No sir, she's just left to go to the coroners." Mulder said tucking his shirt back into his trousers. "Was there something I can do for you?" 

"I was speaking to Agent Markson about his transfer into VC. And I was wondering if you would have a chat with him." 


"He's been there for little under four months and already I can see it taking its toll." 

"And you want me to...what exactly?" Mulder rested his hands on his hips as Skinner approached the desk.  

"Just tell him about your time working on VC. I think he thinks if he asks for a transfer it'll hurt his promotion prospects." 

"Okay. I'll talk to him. William Markson right?" 

"Yes." Skinner nodded as Mulder turned away to shuffle some papers then turned back in shock. "Mulder...your back?" 

"Huh?" turning around with a hand clapped his back he felt the damp feeling of blood soaking through the thin white material. The chair earlier must have shifted the bandage on his back letting his shirt soak up all the oozing blood.  

"What the hell did you do to yourself?" Skinner asked stepping around the desk and turning Mulder around to get a closer look. 

"Nothing sir...I better go get this cleaned up." 

"Show me!"  

"Sir it's nothing really..." But even as he protested Skinner was pulling down the collar of his shirt to see the wound that was causing his shirt to stain in dark blood.  

"Oh my..." Mulder cringed, not missing the humor in his boss' voice when he spied the large tattoo. "What's all this then?"  Mulder felt his day fall further through his boots. Embarrassment thy name is Mulder. 

"I was at a bachelor party last night. Kind of got a little weird.”  Mulder offered in a way of explanation, sighing. "It was a long night and I don't remember much of it but I woke up with *this* on my back this morning." 

"Something is written on it...I can't quite make it out." Skinner pulled the shirt a bit lower causing it to ring Mulder’s neck so Mulder undid the buttons, pulling the shirt off completely baring his back to his superior. 

"Agent Scully hasn't seen this?" Skinner queried, trying and failing miserably to hide the smirk that played at the edge of his lips. 

"No sir. And if I have any luck over the weekend she won’t have a chance to see it." 

"I'm afraid it wont be that easy." Skinner said with a shit-eating grin. Mulder was glad that someone found this humorous. 

"What do you mean?" Mulder turned to face him. Somewhat perturbed by the amount of facial muscles the ex marine was using this morning. 

"To get the tattoo removed you'll need to wait until the skin has healed fully." 


"It'll take about a week, maybe two to fully heal and only then will you be able to get it removed." 

"Oh my god..." Mulder sat down and slumped over his knees. "What am I going to do?"  

"Keep it covered. Dab it lightly with Savlon antiseptic cream in the mornings and in the evenings and that should help it heal quicker." Skinner backed away towards the door.  

"Okay...thanks sir. But if you see me walking in Monday bow legged..." Mulder watched Skinner walk out and fixed the bandage over his wound again, then glanced down at his blood stained shirt. He couldn't put that back on he decided, so instead he rummaged in his gym bag and slipped on a navy tee shirt.         


Alexandria Apartments


          Mulder let himself into his apartment and dropped the stained shirt onto the floor in the kitchen kicking it over by the washing machine. His stomach growled and begged for attention but the rest of his body didn’t trust it so he sipped a glass of cold water before heading towards the bathroom. 

After showering carefully Mulder patted himself dry. He pulled the savlon cream from the pharmacy bag and squeezed a bit out onto his finger. A little shock shot through his system when the cold cream met his skin but it tingled away as he rubbed it in. Checking it in the mirror he was delighted to see the bleeding had stopped but it was still looking red and angry.  He placed on a new bandage and warily put on a tee shirt and sweats. 

          In the living room, he grabbed the phone and dialed Chuck’s number. Tapping his foot anxiously on the floor as he waited for Chuck to pick up, he caught a glimpse of his sorry reflection in the window, the strange bulge under his tee shirt where the bandage was stood out like a mountain in the flat plains.  

"Hello?" came the strangled reply. 


"Yeah...who's this?" Chuck’s voice was hoarse and painful to listen to. 

"It's Mulder. You don't sound too hot." 

"Oh Christ Mulder...I'm glad this bachelor night is a once off..." 

"Me too. My head is not at home to visitors." Mulder stalled, wincing then pushed on, eager to place the last pieces of the puzzle. "Chuck...I woke up this morning with...with...a tattoo." He struggled to even say it aloud. That would make it all the more real. 

"A tattoo?" Chucks voice broke into a raspy laugh. "Yeah Mulder...a few of us did thanks to you." 


"It was your idea!" 

"You're kidding me!" Mulder blurted too loudly, rocking his head painfully. 

"Yeah something about a big gesture to finally show her..." 

"Oh my god..." Mulder didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "I can't believe this. I must have been possessed." 

"Oh believe it Mulder. Spirits defiantly had something to do with it but they weren’t the Spooky kind,” he chortled.  “You, Charlie and me."  

"What did you get done?" he couldn't help but ask, glad in the knowledge that he wasn’t alone in making a total fool of himself. 

"My fiancés name on my ankle. Tasteful actually." 

"I’m going to be a dead man. Chuck I have to get rid of it...can you remember the place we got it done?" 

"I'm not sure...I think it was Sacred Tattoo on Wilson Drive." 

"Okay Chuck thanks. Oh and by the time I have a bright idea...thump me upside the head!" 


  The effort of it all mixed with the lack of sleep from the night’s festivities before, left him worn out. He took the phone book and phone over to the couch and searched for the right number. Sacred Tattoo. Piercings and Body art since 1975, he read in the half page ad. He dialed the number and was bombarded by the heavy rock music that accompanied the reply. His head rebelled, making him groan. Great, now he sounded like a dirty phone caller. 

"Hello?" Mulder tried again to be heard over the music. 

"Yeah, what can I do for you buddy?" 

"I need to get a tattoo removed." 

"Old lady let you down huh?" the gruff voice said with a laugh. 

"Something like that." 

"Okay. Where on your body is the art?" 

"On my back, near my shoulder blade. It's no bigger then my fist." 

"Okay buddy we'll need to do a visual inspection before we can give you a price but I should imagine it not costing more then 170 dollars." 

"I don't mind about the price...only...its still kind of fresh." 

"Fresh? How fresh?" 

"Less then 24 hours..." Mulder added sheepishly. 

          The phone burst with a crack of laughter. As he pulled it abruptly away from his ear to minimize the pain, Mulder could just make out the tattoo guy’s voice calling out to the other patrons in the room and regaling them with his delicate predicament. Still laughing he came back onto the phone.  

"I'm afraid it doesn't quite work that way. The skin needs to heal fully over the ink before we do the laser treatment for removal." 

"How long?" Mulder asked, hope sinking. 

"If you only got it last night. About another 7 to 10 days." 

"Oh shit." 

"Sorry buddy. Call back then." 

          Mulder tossed the cordless phone onto the table and lay back onto the couch, wincing at the stinging pain from his newly acquired body art.  Ten days of rubbing cream on in an awkward place, and hiding the bulges of his bandages from Scully. She'd probably smell the antiseptic cream a mile off and would stop at nothing to know what was going on. She had radar for this stuff. It was inevitable. It was then he heard the knocking on his door. Her knock. Oh shit. Jumping off the couch he rushed into his bedroom and grabbed a baggy sweater to further hide the evidence of his drunken indiscretion.  

"Who is it?" he called gingerly from the hallway as he wrestled the sweater on.  

"Mulder, it's me." 

          He opened the door and smiled broadly as she walked in past him and dropped her coat onto the couch. The familiarity they had grown accustomed to was comforting. But she was looking at him in that inscrutable way. One eyebrow threatening to arch. 

"How are you feeling? Skinner said you were sick?" she probed as she turned to him with concern written all over her face. 

"Sick? No I'm fine. Just tired." He sat next to her on the couch and kicked the phone book closed after seeing it was left on the tattoo parlor page. "How did your meeting with the coroner go?" he quickly changed the subject, inwardly congratulating himself.  

"Ugh, arduously." 

"Get it sorted?" 

"Yeah at last. I dropped the final report into Skinner an hour ago. That's how I heard you were ill. So...what's up?" 

"Nothing. Really. I guess last night’s excesses were just catching up with me." 

"Old age Mulder. Can't take a night out with the boys anymore!" She stood and walked towards the kitchen. 

"Yeah must be," he laughed with her, relieved that she was veering off the subject of his discomfort. 

"Do you want some coffee?" she asked over the sound of the kettle boiling as she took cups and spoon out. 


          He could hear the clatter of the spoons on the counter, stirring the milk in and then hitting the sink. But when her footsteps didn’t follow he looked up in time to see her picking up the shirt, he had discarded earlier, from the floor. 

"Mulder? What's this?" she had wadded it up showing the bloody stain to him. Time to fess up.


"What happened?" she demanded, her anger and concern were mixed together. 

"I cut my back last night at the party. I'm not sure how. I don't remember the semantics." 

"Show me." 

"It's nothing Scully.  I rubbed some savlon onto it and covered it up. I'm fine!" 

"Mulder c'mon, quit messing about. Let me take a look." She inched around him to get behind but he turned with her, keeping her in front. "What's going on?" 

"Nothing," he argued capturing her hands and holding them away from his chest. He smiled at her persistence but he was too strong for her.  

"I know something is going on."  

          He pulled her arms away from her and held them behind her back. Keeping her captive.  She smiled up at him but he didn't release her. 

"Finished Scully?" he asked tightening his grip on her arm for a moment. The air between them crackled and for a moment Mulder forgot why he was holding her like this. He had to admit it felt kind of hot. A certain part of him twitched in agreement.  

"For now!" she answered wickedly looking up at him under hooded eyes. 

"It's over Scully!" He twisted her arm a little, pulling her closer to him as he spoke, glancing down at her curving lips as her tongue appeared to stroke them, then released her with a little push towards the couch. She sat down with a taunting laugh. 

"It must have been some night," she called after him as he went into the kitchen to collect the coffee. 

"I don't remember." He handed her the drink and sat next to her, not missing her glancing at his back and seeing the slight bulge that the sweater wasn't managing to disguise. 

"So what happened?" she sipped her coffee and left it onto the table. 

"I'm not sure." He avoided her gaze. 

"Can't remember huh?" she gave him a gentle shove with her shoulder. 

"Nope. Nada. Zip." 

"Did you have someone take a look at it?"  

"It's fine Scully. Forget it." 

"Mulder, I won't forget it. It could get infected. Then the next time I'll see you you'll be running a high fever and you'll need me to carry you into the hospital...again." 

"Again?" He looked over to her and she saw then the color rising into his cheeks. His eyes darted about her face and she couldn't mistake the worry claiming his expression.  

"Mulder, you're beginning to worry me. What happened?" She sat forward and matched his pose. With her hands clasped in front of her and she dipped her head to see his face. 

"Just stupid drunken antics." 

"How stupid is stupid? Can I see?" she asked softly touching his arm to make him look up.  He hesitated but knew there was no backing down. No going back now. Might as well get it over with and take the consequences like a man. Her blue gaze unraveled the last of his resolve. He sucked in his cheeks like a naughty hamster. Wishing he were that tiny also; perhaps small enough to roll into a ball, scuttle off and hide under the sofa with all the other sorry crap and detritus lurking underneath..

"It's a…. tattoo." 

"A tattoo?" Her eyes opened wide with surprise. "No! Show me!" 

"It's stupid, I'm getting rid of it. I can't even remember getting it." 

"Mulder, c' me." Her eyes were alight with glee. 

          He pulled off his sweater and tossed it onto the chair. She spotted the bandage immediately and helped him pull the tee shirt over his head. He had managed to tape it down fairly well so it was with careful fingers that she peeled it off.  He heard her audible gasp as she spied the art and her fingers gently traced the center of it, where her name was printed.   

"Mulder..." she whispered. 

"I know..." His cheeks flooded with the color he was no longer able to hold at bay. "I'm sorry...I don't know why I did it." 

"Scully," she muttered as she traced it again with her index finger. The sensation of her touching his back was cooling and warm at the same time as his back tingled. It was kind of turning him on. "I don't know what to say." 

 "Me neither," he admitted, turning to her to see her smile growing openly across her face. "You're not angry?" 

"Angry? No. Shocked...definitely shocked!" Her smile turned into a gurgling laugh surprising him more. "I...well...I'm dumbfounded. Did you mean it?" 

“You think I didn’t? 

“I’m asking you.” 

“…Yeah. I did mean it.” He said with finality as he grinned shyly, turning to look deep into her eyes. “I was drunk last night…but I’ve been, well drunk on you for a very …long time.” 

“Oh Mulder…that was corny,” she said but suddenly she was in his arms and he face drawing nearer to his searching out his eyes. “My god you do really mean it.” 

He nodded enthusiastically, telling her with his eyes what the sudden lump in his throat couldn’t just then. She pulled him closer. 

Tentatively their lips touched, then his mouth opened inviting her to further exquisite explorations, and her arms snaked around his back and his followed suit. 

“Don’t even think of getting rid of it.”  She purred as her hands twitched south, sending warm sparks to every molecule in his body as they headed for his bedroom. “I showed you my tattoo, so fair’s fair. You show me yours.” 

“ Hey that’s right we both have a tattoo now. It’s kind of spooky. We have matching guns sooo…what’s next agent Scully, monogrammed towels? " 

“I know what I’d love to monogram right now..Agent Mulder. Get in that bedroom G-man.”   And she flashed him a gorgeous cat in sunshine smile.  

“Yes m’am.”   


The End