When Scully got out of the car, she moved quickly so that Mulder nor the chauffer could see or follow her. She didn't want Mulder to follow her because, for the most part, even she didn't know where she was going. All she knew was that she had a plan, but no starting point. Scully walked down the bustling sidewalk, looking into shop windows, peering into boutiques. She stopped for a brief second to look at her guidebook when she found herself in front of a salon. It just so happened it was the salon listed in her guidebook, listed on the page to where she happened to land.
Her heels clicked on the Italian marble floor of the salon. Everything was in either black or white, and every person who wasn't a customer was dressed in black. Scully walked up to the reception desk, and spoke to a woman who looked as though she smelled something foul every waking moment of the day. "Welcome to the Manor, may I help you?" she asked. The woman would have probably peered at Scully over the tops of her glasses were she wearing any, but since she wasn't she managed a calculated sneer instead.
"I don't presume that you take walk-ins," Scully began, "but I'd like to schedule an appointment for later on this afternoon, if space is available."
"That's correct," the woman began, "And I'm not sure we have anything available for later on."
"Well, then could you direct me to another salon in the area...?"
Before either of them could answer, a man clad in the similar shade of black burst into the conversation. "Sweetie, there is no other salon in the area!" Scully was surprised to see that the comment managed to get a response out of Miss-Nose-In-The-Air. "Squeeze her in between the appointments we haven't had in the past three hours and the ones we probably won't get for the rest of the day - oh look!" he said as he ceremoniously pointed at the appointment book. "That would mean I could see her right about now."
Before the receptionist could respond, the stylishly clad man in black grabbed Scully by the shoulders, and whisked her away. "My name is Reginald," he replied, "And I will be your fairy hairdresser for today. I must warn you that I don't apologize for my behavior. I'm flamboyant, I'm a stereotype, and if it bothers you, fine; if it offends you, even better. I really don't care one fig, and I will not apologize for being the person that I am."
"I don't expect you to," Scully replied, "and I'm not offended in the least."
"So glad to hear it. You wouldn't believe some of the comments I get. But I'm not in the business of pretending - I leave that to the actors and people who are too confused to know who they really are."
Reginald sat Scully down in the stylist's chair. "Now, dearie;" he said, "what can I do for you today?"
"I need your help..." Scully began.
"Oh, I should say so, Love!" Reginald exclaimed. "Why, I don't mean to be rude, but you look like a Lorie splashed mud on your new frock just after the Queen's regiment marched all over your backside."
Scully opened her mouth to speak, but Reginald continued. "Now wait, let me guess." He circled the stylist's chair as he made his assessment. "Ah yes, I see. I understand all about it now. It's another woman. And she's after your man; your husband, of course - I see the lovely braided wedding band he gave you. Must have put a lot of thought into that, dearie, it's truly lovely."
"Thank you," Scully replied.
"...And from the look on your face when you marched in here, she's quite a tart. You needn't say anything, Lovie, I know. I know all about it. Happened to meself once - but never twice. My partner had a bit of the roving eye, he did, and I told him in no uncertain terms that if I ever caught givin' the what-for to anybody outside of our relationship, male or female, the words 'banger' and 'mash' would take on an entirely different meaning in his life!"
Reginald spun Scully around to face the mirror, and brought his face down next to hers. "Reginald's here, lovie, and we're going to fix everything. Let's start by taking this nasty gray out. Tell me lovie, what's the natural color?"
"The red is the natural color," replied Scully.
"Well, what'cha know? A true redheaded spitfire!" Reginald exclaimed in mock surprise. "I'm surprised you haven't bitch-slapped that tart who's after your man right across the Thames!"
"Oh, before the week's over, I will," Scully replied. "Count on it."
"Right-oh! That's the spirit!" cheered Reginald. "Now let me get my hands in that head of yours and get to work!"
********************************************************************
Mulder fastened his onyx cufflinks as he stood in the grand front foyer of Brittlegate Manor. The light from the chandelier reflected off of the marble floor and danced in the mirror as Mulder checked his reflection. Was his tie straight? He'd never been good at tying a bow tie. Whenever they went to functions like this, Scully always tied his bow tie with crisp efficiency, but he hadn't seen her since she got out of the car in London. They hadn't come home together; Mulder drove back to Brittlegate with Phoebe - a long, silent car ride even with the radio on. Scully followed later, driven by Darcy who waited for her where he had left her. Mulder was in the adjoining room for the "suite" Phoebe had created when Scully came back, but when he finally knocked on the door, Scully never answered. When he opened the door and heard the telltale sound of water running in the tub, he picked up his tuxedo and showered and dressed in the adjoining room. Was his tie straight? He didn't know, and Scully wasn't there to tell him.
"Well, don't you look smashing!"
Mulder turned away from his reflection to face Phoebe as she came down the grand staircase.
"I really must say, Mulder, you still cut quite a handsome figure in a Tuxedo."
Before Mulder could say anything, Phoebe continued.
"And I'm saying it as friend and nothing more. I do hope we're still friends, despite our differences."
Phoebe descended the staircase, and walked over to Mulder.
"I hope, old friend, that I can ask a favor of you, but let me preface this by saying that my intentions are strictly above board."
"Depends on the favor," Mulder asked.
Phoebe turned her back to Mulder. "Zip me up the rest of the way?" She held her hands up in mock surrender. "I swear, Mulder - my dresser went home for the evening, and I really thought I could do this myself. My hands are nowhere near where they can do any danger or mischief."
Mulder said nothing.
"Really, Mulder, I can't go to my own awards dinner half naked..."
"Well, it would definitely give the guests something to talk about," Scully replied
Mulder and Phoebe looked to see Scully standing at the top of the stairs. Both were speechless until Mulder opened his mouth to speak.
"My God," he said, "you're beautiful."
********************************************************************************
Scully stood at the top of the grand staircase. She wasn't wearing the dress he'd seen her pack for their trip; rather, she was the proverbial vision of loveliness in a new, strapless, sleeveless dress of Midnight Blue crepe that fell to the floor and hugged a figure that was better than women who were half her age. Her opera-length white kid gloves rose up her arms well past her elbows, and stopped just where her dress began. Her hair was back to its full glory; red and without a trace of gray it fell into a soft pageboy just past her jawline. Although Scully had never aged in Mulder's eyes, she looked as she did when they first met. She was a timeless beauty and a woman for all ages.
Mulder got the surprise of his life when Scully began to walk down the staircase. The dress of Midnight Blue that seemed so stately and sedate had a split just long enough to tastefully reveal one of the many reasons why he married her. Showgirls in Vegas should be so lucky to have legs as shapely and beautiful as his wife's.
"My God, I love you," he thought.
**************************************************************************
"Left, Right, Left, Right..." Scully counted the steps as she walked down the grand staircase because she wasn't entirely sure her legs could move on their own. She had Reginald to thank for the stunning new dress and strappy pumps. Her "fairy hairdresser" as he had called himself had taken it upon himself to make sure she looked "Faaaaabbulous!" as he put it. He had taken her next door to the boutique that was owned by a friend of his and started pulling things off of the rack. She wasn't sure about the dress at first, but Reginald was finally able to talk her into it. "Dearie, with your figure and your fabulous new 'do'" he said, "You'll be doing more than bringing home the bacon and frying it up in a pan!" When Scully saw Mulder's reaction, she knew Reginald had made the right choice.
"My God," Mulder said as she came down the stairs. You're beautiful."
Scully had to fight very hard to suppress a girlish giggle. Mulder was actually flustered! He hadn't realized he had said that aloud, and when he did, he looked sheepishly at the floor like a boy experiencing in his first crush.
"Thank you," she replied. "You look great yourself."
Scully held her gloved hand outstretched when she reached the bottom of the stairs. Mulder walked over to take her hand when he saw what was inside.
"Could you put this on for me, please?" asked Scully. "I can't with these gloves on."
In the palm of her hand was a diamond heart necklace on a delicate gold chain. It was the heart he had given her on their tenth wedding anniversary; a symbol of his heart that he had given her willingly so long ago.
Scully faced him as he reached around her neck to fasten the necklace, and as he did, his fingers brushed her collarbone and neck. She actually thought she could feel him trembling. His touch was hot on her skin and she thought her knees would collapse and send her tumbling to the ground. It had been so long since he touched her, truly touched her the way he was now. Would she make it through the evening?
At the moment, she wasn't sure if she could make it through the next minute.
Mulder looked down into her face. "Is my tie straight?" he asked gently. Scully reached up, and made the slightest adjustment to his handiwork. She looked down and noticed that he was wearing the onyx shirt studs and cufflinks she had given him on their wedding day. Her hands fell from his tie, and trailed over each of the shirt studs, one by one. When she did that, Mulder looked as though things had finally fallen into place, and the world order had been restored by the simple touch of her hand. "Perfect," she said.
They could have stood there and gazed into each other's eyes forever.
"Well, we should probably get started," Phoebe said. "Mulder, why don't you see if the car's out front," Scully replied.
Both women looked as Mulder left the room. "I hope you realize how lucky you are," Phoebe said. "Every day," Scully replied.
Phoebe walked past Scully and towards the door when Scully stopped her. "Wait a second," she said. Phoebe looked over her shoulder, and saw that her dress was still unzipped. Scully walked over to Phoebe and yanked the zipper closed so harsh and so fast that she almost pinched the skin on Phoebe's back.
"Make another pass at my husband," Scully said, "and I'll smack you so hard you'll be airborne."