TITLE: Maybe It's...
AUTHOR: aRcaDIaNFall$
FEEDBACK: arcadianfalls@yahoo.com.au
RATING: PG
SPOILERS: none
CLASSIFICATION: H, & R, I guess
SUMMARY: Mulder turns up to a meeting with Skinner with an
incriminating stain on his shirt, horrifying Scully.
AUTHORS NOTE: Just a lil piece my sleep-deprived mind came up with.
Time for bed, now. :]
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Maybe It's...
by aRcaDIaNFall$

Mulder had lipstick on his collar. A tiny smudge on the pressed white
fabric against his neck, the lightest imprint, a woman's equivalent of
a dog lifting his leg against a tree to mark his territory. 
This man is *mine*, the print declared to the rest of the world. Fox
William Mulder belongs to *me*. It might as well be an announcement
over the PA and memo'd to every FBI agent in the country.
And Fox William Mulder himself? He just sat there, smug humour barely
restrained as he shrugged off Skinner's nitpicks of our latest report.
Or so I assumed that was what they were discussing. I was too
distracted by the lipstick to follow, numbed in disbelief, in horror.
Mulder had *lipstick* on his collar. 

Mulder reached up, scratching his neck. I felt sudden dread, sure that
Skinner would see the mark, jump up and demand an explanation, and I
would be forced to listen to Mulder's flustered, guilty excuses. If I
had to sit through that I'd just die, I knew it. But Mulder went on
scratching. Skinner kept on talking. I didn't hear a single word.

My face was burning, my fists were clenched. I was trying with all my
might to ignore the smudge but I couldn't stop myself. It drew me,
transfixed me, horrified me. What if other people saw it? What would
they say? They talked about him enough already, and here he was,
walking around with a big ol' smudge of lipstick on his collar,
announcing to the world that he was getting some. I was furious with
him. I could deal with a certain amount, but this was pushing me too
far. I couldn't just sit there and put up with it.

But I did. For agonising, humiliating minutes. Every second seemed to
last an eternity, apprehension and anger burning inside me. I thought
with every second that I would explode or kill him, or both. 

Finally, Skinner dismissed us. Or that was what I assumed, anyway, as I
followed Mulder's example and stood, giving Skinner a cursory nod and
charging out after Mulder. Oh boy. He was in big, *big* trouble.


We stepped into the elevator. I punched the button for the basement,
folded my arms, and waited as the doors slid closed.

"Mulder, you've got lipstick on your collar," I said coldly, refusing
to look at him. 

He grinned sheepishly. "Really?"

"Yes, really," I retorted shortly, stealing a glance at him. I pressed
my lips together tightly. 

"Sorry," he muttered, still grinning that silly grin. He peered in the
reflective steel panels of the elevator and rubbed vigorously at the
spot, succeeding only in making it bigger. Just great, Mulder. Step up
the advertising. 
He gave up, turning back to me and shrugging. 

I glared at him.

"Is that a problem for you?" he asked innocently.

"I just don't appreciate you waltzing into Skinner's office covered in
lipstick."

"Is that all you have to say?"

I glared some more. He pouted. I melted.

Sigh. I'd overreacted. "One more thing," I conceded, calmer.

"One more thing?" He raised an eyebrow, reaching across to me, cupping
my cheek. I couldn't stop myself. I smiled at him.

"Yeah," I said, as cool as I could. I met his amused gaze, delighting
in the mirth in his eyes. "Next time we be more careful."


fin.
www.maybelline.com *g*