I uploaded this a while ago on Tumblr, but I totally forgot to put it up here, lol. I'm going to make a collection called "Countdown" of different "_ Times blah blah blah" from 10 to 1, so consider this number 6!
I
He was right. It probably wasn't the first thought that should have come to his mind as his frightened, pretty new partner dropped her robe in the middle of his motel room, but it was. Reasonable, functional, and somehow enticing. A nude bra, beige or white maybe, that matched her panties perfectly. The lights from the candle distorted the color as the flames flickered across her mosquito-bitten back, but he saw enough to confirm that the brief passing thought in his mind from earlier had been correct. It was too quick to be called a fantasy, too titillating to be called a passing thought, yet it brought him a great sense of satisfaction to know he'd pegged this new agent correctly.
She'd been sternly lecturing him and he'd been hanging off of every word. He couldn't remember another instance of someone shooting his theory to shit being so exciting. Something about the no-nonsense manner of her voice, the way her eyebrow cocked as if inviting him to disagree with her, the way she seemed to enjoy the back and forth as much as he did – he wasn't sure what about this workplace conversation had him raking his eyes over her body and thinking what was under the unflattering suit she wore like armour as soon as she turned around.
What he did know now was that he'd pictured it perfectly.
Good to know.
II
He really would've taken Scully as the type to wear an undershirt. That theory was shot to hell as he stared straight down the top of her sagging blouse and he was given a perfect view of her round breasts encased in a light pink bra, the little bow in between reminding him how much of a gift this really was.
Dana Scully
He only got to look for the same amount of time it took her to write those two words underneath his own sloppy signature on the expense report, not that he was trying to look. He'd just been staring in that direction when she bent over in front of him to sign the form, the cap of the pen gripped lazily between two ruby red lips.
He could see what he hadn't last time. Freckles. Little tiny dots littering her chest. When he looked up he knew he'd see matching ones on the bridge of her nose, regardless of how much she tried to hide them. What he saw was his suspicions confirmed, and a pair of amused, yet chastising, blue eyes boring into his.
He coughed nervously and mumbled, "I'm sorry." His eyes darted around the room as if pretending that's what they'd been doing the whole time. He just hoped whoever got to see that present unwrapped it carefully.
She extended her hand out to him and he took the pen she was offering back. "Have a nice weekend, Mulder," she replied in a teasing tone, jovial but not wanting to reward him. He held his breath until he heard the sound of her heels become a faint echo.
He tried to not focus on whatever, whoever, she was going to that inspired her to curl her hair today and wear a nice, lacy, pink bra.
Her lipstick was still on the cap of his pen, and though he partially wanted to preserve the imprint, he couldn't stop his finger from darting out and watching the creamy mark transfer from the plastic of the pen onto the pad of his skin. Pulling back, he stared mesmerized by the bit of coral smudge.
A little bit of Scully on his fingertips. And, in the ultimate act of juvenile longing, he kissed his own finger to feel what her lipstick would feel on his mouth – traces of an exchange that never happened.
In the real world, that is.
III
Peanut Butter and Jelly, Night and Day, Scully Screaming and Mulder Running, some things just naturally went together. Tonight was no different. He'd just gotten into his pyjamas, or more accurately - stripped into his pyjamas-, when he heard an uncharacteristically high-pitched scream come from the otherside of the adjoining door. "Scully?" he yelled in concern.
"Mulder!" she shouted in response.
He didn't need much more than that to burst into her room, gun blazing and alert. Mulder swept his eyes across the room and ultimately landed on Scully's form. She was in the corner of the room, naked minus a pair of dark blue panties. Her breasts were being firmly held by her hands, inadvertently exaggerating her cleavage, as she precariously sat on an end table.
His heart dropped as he feared the worst. A screaming Scully was never good, but a nearly-naked screaming Scully scared him worse. He turned and started stomping around the room, expecting to see a man hiding in some corner - his attempt to attack Scully thwarted and now he was trying to leave.
He'd kill him.
…but he couldn't find anything. He turned back to Scully and urgently asked, "What happened, Scully?"
"There's a snake in my bed!" she whispered, pointing urgently while sliding slowly off the table, keeping one arm and hand securing her chest.
His eyes accidentally slid down as she did this and he, for the millionth time but none as viscerally as this, appreciated her toned body. She was sculpted like a statue and had to turn away quickly before embarrassing himself.
Lowering his gun, he nodded and made his way towards her mattress, slowly drawing back the sheets until he was met with a dangerous looking, but non-lethal, common snake. He chuckled softly before grabbing the snake by the middle. "Mulder, no!" she lurched, grabbing his shoulder lightly.
"Scully, this is just a garden snake," he laughed, bringing it to the door and tossing it onto the gravel before closing the door and turning around. He almost ran over Scully, who'd come up behind him quietly as his apparent back-up even though she was scared herself.
They were closer than either of them had anticipated and he realized he was just as naked as she was. She was apparently noticing that too as her eyes were focused lower than they'd ever been during office hours. "Are you okay?" he asked, making her eyes comically shoot back up to his as a blush spread across her cheeks.
"Yeah, I'm sorry. I thought it was worse," she chuckled self consciously, bringing her other hand back up to her chest to give herself more coverage, bringing Mulder's gaze along with it.
She must've been getting ready for bed because her face was devoid of all makeup and he could smell some faint moisturizer on her. She must've lotioned her whole body too because she seemed to be absolutely glistening under the dim lamp light emanating from the bedside.
"N-no, don't be sorry. I'm um, I'm glad to help," he offered lamely.
"Thanks," she whispered. "Oh-uh," she started, turning around. "Sorry, I called you in while I was practically naked," she apologized.
Or at least, he thinks that's what she said, because as she left to grab her robe, all he could focus on was the way her underwear wasn't full coverage. The sides of her rounded ass were visible as she walked over and that, combined with the elegance of her exposed back, had him crossing his hands in front of himself as he refused her apology and ran into his room.
He wished her a goodnight before closing the door, and he laid in bed that night and wondered if she had any idea the effect she had on him.
IV
She'd been staying at his apartment for the past two days because they were repainting her apartment. This morning she insisted it wasn't fair that she was eating all his food and not paying him back, so, despite his adamance she didn't need to, she was off on a run to the store.
In their newfound routine, something he found simple joy in, it became an unspoken rule that she'd shower first and he'd go in after her. He loved it because the steam in the shower just heightened the smell of her floral shampoo and he felt engulfed in her scent.
So after she left, he made his way to the bathroom, stripping carelessly as he went. When he closed the door behind him, he turned to the towel rack and was stunned to see a thin, strappy bra hanging next to his striped towel. Staying dead silent for a moment to make absolutely sure she was gone, despite having just witnessed her leave himself. When he was confident she was gone, he picked up the scrap of fabric and felt it in his hands. Part of him felt like a kid again, finding small clues to the intricacies of womanhood that were still a mystery to him.
This was Scully's bra.
This bra had touched her naked breasts.
And now it was in his hands.
He gently hand his hands over the cups and tried to commit the size difference to memory. She was on the smaller size, but they were bountiful nonetheless. He'd spent hours thinking about them and imagining what they'd look like, and now he had a piece of the puzzle in his very hands.
He noticed part of the underwire, if that's what it's called, was sticking out from the middle and he realized all the times in the past few weeks he'd seen her grabbing at the middle of her chest and tugging was because the wire had been poking her.
34B, he noted on the side band. He contemplated if she'd find it weird if he bought her a new bra. He felt bad if this one was causing her pain – it had to have been a favorite if she kept insisting on wearing it despite the pain. He decided the worst thing she could do was call him a pervert, it wouldn't be the first time. Hell, after spending two nights here and accidentally catching sight of his morning wood both times, it honestly couldn't be that bad. He just had to decide what kind to get her.
He spent the entire shower thinking about what type would fit her best before, quite literally, coming to the decision to get her another black, strappy one.
V
108 degrees. Record setting in the state and they just happened to be on a case in the area to be able to experience it. Hot enough to make any person sleep in their underwear.
Sometimes he forgot Scully fell under the category of 'any person' since he didn't categorize her that way himself.
It was that slip up which caused him to be so taken aback when he walked into her motel room, without knocking as he'd later chastise himself for, and saw her sprawled on the bed in a forest green bra and deep purple underwear. The sight alone made him hard as a rock and lose all ability to think rationally.
He was about to apologize when he realized the lights in the room were off and she was sound asleep, the even rise and fall of her chest signalling she had probably been for a while now.
He felt his foot yearning to step forward and get a better look, but instead he turned around and closed the door as softly as he could. She'd done five autopsies back to back today. The last thing she deserved was her partner coming into her room and ogling her nearly-naked sleeping form.
She didn't deserve to have him muffling her name in his fist as he came all over the shower tiles while thinking of her, but he only had so much willpower.
Green was his favorite color on her, after all.
VI
She didn't close the door and all the sudden he was a horny teenage boy again.
This situation had occurred with varying frequency through the seven years of their partnership; they came over to her place to finish a report, watch a movie, eat something, whatever it may be. "I'm just going to change into something more comfortable. Make yourself at home," she'd say as she made her way down the hall into her bedroom, closing the door behind her as he tried to imagine what was happening behind the mahogany that blocked his view.
There was no imagining this time and his brain was short circuiting from it.
He watched as she walked into her bedroom, not sparing the door a second glance, as she grabbed the bottom hem of her sweater and whipped it over her head, revealing she hadn't been wearing more than a thin white bra underneath it all day. He felt like he needed to turn around, but he was frozen in place.
She then grabbed the stretchy hem of her skirt and pulled it down her legs, bending over as she did so so he got a full look at her rounded ass.
A thong.
A fucking white little thong.
He felt all the blood in his body rush to his groin as he watched Aphrodite herself make the most mundane task seem highly erotic. He knew he was gaping as she reached behind her back and unclasp her bra, revealing more skin to him than he ever remembered seeing under favorable circumstances.
He knew that he should probably leave, avert his gaze, fucking anything other than stand here and let his hard on tent his pants like a cartoon.
But she'd never left the door open before and if there was one thing Fox Mulder did, it was look for signs. He realized she was staring in front of a mirror and he couldn't stop himself from looking.
Pink, perfect ovals with taut, hardened tips reflected back at him on top of her creamy heavy breasts. He swore this was the image men wanted to be their last. This was what pure heaven was like. He felt his eyes flutter lightly from pure arousal as he bit his lip, thanking whatever god was out there that allowed him to be blessed with this visage.
As he looked up a little more, he realized this thanks were just being directed to the god in the other room as Scully stared straight back at him through the mirror. A coy, self-satisfied smile playing on her lips.
Then, just as quickly as it had started, she turned around - not caring to conceal her fully revealed breasts from his attention - as she closed the door. He swore to god she even winked at him, the very last thing he saw before she disappeared behind the wooden door.
She came out in her silk pyjamas with no mentioning of the mini-strip tease. She let him see what she wanted him to see under her terms. Terms he was more than willing to follow.