The Red Carpet
The dress had cost her a months pay, the shoes two weeks. But her hair was done just so, her make up was neat and much more glamorous than what she normally wore. She even cracked out the lacy lingerie, now with an excuse to wear it, and examined herself in the full length mirror of her deluxe hotel room.
Would Mulder think she was pretty?
The question seemed like a rather moot point now, considering he’d see her naked, many times. Yet, Scully’s feminine pride had to wonder. Mulder had never really seen her...well, dressed up like a girl. Yes, he’d seen her in her authoritarian suits, her high heels and professional armor, that was what he normally saw her in. He’d seen her in casual dresses, in jeans and flannel shirts, and in her pajamas more times than she cared to admit. Hell, he’d seen her covered in manure. But rarely had he seen her like this. Yes, they’d had a date or two, nice evenings out with her in a cocktail dress, but nothing this formal or fancy.
After all, this was Hollywood. And Tea Leoni would be there. And she was pretty enough to catch even Mulder’s eye. And while in a million years she could never imagine Mulder preferring the pretty, tall, blonde actress to herself, it still gave her pause. Who was she, Dana Scully, compared to a zillion Hollywood starlets strolling the red carpet? She’d look like a dumpy country bumpkin compared to that glamour.
Frankly, Scully didn’t know what was more disturbing at that moment, the fact that she was worried if her partner thought her attractive or that she was concerned because she was going to a Hollywood premiere. Both seemed vaguely surreal to consider, and yet there she was, primping for what felt like the hundredth time, pushing that one annoying hair behind her ear, checking to see if the back was still on her earring, adjusting that irritating hanger strap that wouldn’t stay where it was put.
At her hotel room door, a light, lazy wrap indicated Mulder was dressed and waiting for her outside. Was that really butterflies in her stomach? Rolling her eyes at her own idiocy, she gathered her scant things, a wrap, a clutch, lipstick, and her VIP tickets, turning around the luxurious room to make sure she hadn’t forgotten what little brains she had left. She opened the door, fully prepared to laugh at her own idiocy, and stopped.
She had forgotten how truly delicious Mulder looked in a tux.
Granted, it had been years since Scully had seen him in one, and that was when he was in the arms of the infamous Phoebe Green. She had been more concerned with getting him out of it, not for an illicit tryst, but to make sure he wasn’t going to die of smoke inhalation. For obvious reasons she had tried to forget that memory and the laughing mockery of Phoebe once she got over the shock of Scully trying to undress her dance partner.
It occurred to her, perhaps a beat too late, that she was staring, open-mouthed, at her partner. And for his part, he looked more than a bit dazed himself. Clearing her throat and ignoring the flame rushing across her cheeks, she merely grinned up him flirtily. “Hello!”
Mulder blinked in an uncharacteristic stupor, then his brain caught up with the rest of her greeting. “Hi,” he replied, soft and low, clearing his throat as his gaze wandered from head to toe. “You clean up nice.”
“So do you,” she teased, tugging at the lapel of his tux. “Rental?”
“This old thing? Nah, it’s the one I keep around for weddings and funerals.”
“Right,” she snickered, allowing the door to close behind her as she took Mulder’s proffered arm. It was sweet, an old, gentlemanly thing to do, the sort of classy thing she often forgot Mulder was capable of. “You ready for this?”
“Well, as ready as I will ever be for a train wreck on the silver screen.” She could feel him tense beneath her fingers. His eyes cut down towards hers as they made their way down the hall and towards the opulent lobby. “Pity they gave us separate rooms, though.:
That had been the first thing Mulder had noted with dismay in their travel arrangements. “Yeah, well thankfully they are across the hall from one another, so you can sneak across and use the secret knock.”
“You going to leave a towel on the door to tip me when to make my escape?”
“I was thinking coded message and pigeon, see how long it took you to get the idea.”
“With you in that dress, I may not need to sneak over.” She could feel his gaze travel over her shoulders to the completely open and bare back, revealing everything, including the top of her ouroboros tattoo. “Of course, if Skinner got wind of that fancy tattoo there, it may raise eyebrows.”
“Do you want to think of Skinner looking anywhere near that area, Mulder?”
She tried not to grin in abject delight as he tugged her just a little closer to his side in a rare streak of possessiveness. “Not if I still want to have a job in the morning. Cause I’d have to punch him in the face.”
“And then explain it all afterwards,” she tittered, half-hoping their boss would discover the truth. What would Skinner say if he found out that they were now lovers? Would he even be surprised?
“So, I take it you like the dress,” Scully wondered pointedly, feigning ignorance but not the hint of insecurity.
“I think I’d like you better out of it.”
“That’s sort of missing the point.”
“No it isn’t, if you are trying to look sexy. And you do, and I get it, and you are beautiful, so stop worrying.”
“Who says I’m worried,” she replied, tossing her chin and knowing he saw right through that.
“Cause you are a woman and you read those goofy magazines with toothpicks on the front,” he retorted. “And don’t tell me you don’t, because I know you keep them there right next to the medical journals in your desk.”
“Rifling through my drawers, now?”
“Oh, the images that conjures, Scully,” he breathed, earning a hard slap on the shoulder and peels of laughter out of his partner. And he hardly looked sorry for it.
“See, now you will be thinking of that all night and not those stunningly fake plastic actresses, won’t you?”
Trust Mulder to set the right mood for a fancy, public event. “Perhaps, until the movie starts. Then I have a feeling there aren’t enough drawers full of my underwear, Mulder, to distract either one of us.”
“Don’t remind me,” he muttered as they came into sight of the marbled entrance. Already she could see Skinner waiting for them, looking uncharacteristically gleeful as he stood by a long, black limousine.
“Is that Skinner smiling,” Mulder murmured softly, sounding more than a bit disturbed by the idea.
“Maybe he hit the champagne upstairs,” Scully offered, slapping on a welcoming grin as the moved to greet their boss. “Sir, I’m glad to see you so...chipper?”
“I think I just saw Cameron Diaz walk past me and wave,” he responded without preamble.
“As if this night couldn’t get any more ridiculous,” Mulder muttered. Whether or not Skinner heard him, he rounded to shake Mulder’s hand heartily.
“This should be fun!” Skinner enthused. Scully had never seen her boss so laid back or so jovial. Neither had Mulder, who was beginning to look rather alarmed.
“If you say so, sir,” Mulder replied with the automatic agreement that Mulder had never, ever displayed in front of their superior before.
“I’m sure it will be...unique,” Scully stepped in, trying to smooth Mulder’s rapidly raveling mood before it truly annoyed Skinner. “It should be interesting seeing what they producers came up with.”
Here, Skinner’s ebullience faltered, hitching his smile just a tad. “Yes, well, remember they’ve taken some liberties. You know how Hollywood is, they always have to punch up truth a bit. So it may not be literally, fact-for-fact, everything that happened with that case.”
Mulder’s expression said he doubted it had anything to do with the bounds of reality, period. “Outside of the Lazarus Bowl, sir, does it really have anything at all to do with the case?”
“It mentions a Lazarus Bowl, doesn’t it,” Skinner offered hastily, gesturing to the waiting car. “Better get going for your red carpet debut, eh?”
Trying to be the graceful voice of reason, Scully tugged gently at Mulder’s arm. “Hey, it’s Hollywood, the red carpet should be fun!”
Mulder looked like he’d rather set any red carpet he saw on fire.
“Sure,” he muttered, climbing into the soft leather of the luxuriant limo behind Scully. “Fine, whatever!”
Scully hoped, privately, they would have booze at this event...a lot of it.