Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully belong to Chris Carter and Ten Thirteen productions. Scully's hair belongs to Gillian Anderson. Mulder's videos belong to Mulder.
Red
Mulder had never had any preferences for hair color. He never paid much attention to the hair color of the stars of his movies. So long as it wasn't dyed green, it didn't matter. Besides, there was plenty else to look at.
But lately, he'd developed a fondness for red. Not vivid, Wendy's-logo colored hair. Orange red. The color of pumpkins, the rising sun, fall leaves. Scully's hair color, also, but he tried not to think about that. Because his relationship with Scully was purely platonic, purely professional. Just pumpkins and leaves and suns.
And he started focusing on the red-haired beauties in his movies. Blue movies with red girls. His latest purchase was "Fiery Fiesta." Lovely girls with large breast and long, orange hair, hair down to their waist, vivid red-orange hair.
And his fantasies had turned to this, too. Faceless girls with their red hair brushing his chest, falling onto his face, running his fingers through that hair, that red hair.
And then there was that morning in Vermont. Their hunt for a werewolf through the woods had taken all night, to no avail. Then the sun rose. The sun, with the orange and red and pink bars of light, flickering and dancing and reflecting the bright orange and red and pink and purple autumn leaves, and Scully, with her ruby red lips and her cheeks red from the cold and her red hair.
And that night, the faceless girl had a face. She had a thin face and blue eyes and a small nose and ruby red lips and short red hair. She was Scully, but, he knew that she had always been Scully. He touched her hair, ran his hands through it, and it was as silky and smooth and clean and brilliant red as he'd always imagined.