TITLE: Color me embarrassed.
Author:
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
Feedback:
Color me Embarrassed
FBI Basement Office
THURSDAY: 2.40PM
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
FRIDAY: 6.15AM
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.
Scully.
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."
"Problem?"
"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."
"Sir?"
"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."
"What?"
"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
FRIDAY: 8.20PM
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.
"Chuck?"
"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."
"Me?"
"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 way...next 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.
"Sure."
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.
"I eh...cut...my…eh…"
"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'mon...show 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