Like A Red, Red Rose II - Like The Melodie (1/1) by Audrey Cooper xf_writer@geocities.com February, 1997 Summary: Mulder contemplates Scully's reaction to his Valentine's Day gift. Spoilers: Pilot. Classification/Rating: V. MSR -- Major UST! Strong R. Disclaimer: Blah, blah...oh, you're actually reading it. Ok, guys and gals, you know the drill... Mulder and Scully don't belong to me. They are the creations and property of Chris Carter, Fox, and 1013 Productions, and have been used without permission. This is a sequel to Like A Red, Red Rose. This *can* stand alone, but it would probably make more sense if you read that one first. Author's Notes follow the story. I would appreciate feedback in any shape or form. ********************************************************************** Like A Red, Red Rose II - Like The Melodie (1/1) by Audrey Cooper xf_writer@geocities.com Mulder couldn't stop thinking about it. Scully usually wore them. She was wearing it now. He swallowed, hard. Thong underwear. *The* thong. God. The one he had chosen after an entire evening's deliberation, of delectation. The one he had unwrapped with such care from the layers of tissue. The one he had stroked slowly and secretly over his face, enjoying the silky feel. The one he had run down his chest, wishing it was her touching him. The one he had wrapped around his bare hard shaft, sliding it lightly up and down, imagining it was her hands, her mouth, her heat. He had refused to come, enjoying the fantasy too much. He would not. He didn't want to risk ruining the delicate fabric. When he had finally pulled the cloth away and folded it into the petals of a rose, his hands had been trembling with the force of his hunger. And she had *teased* him with it! *Scully*! "They're very...comfortable." She was wearing it. That microscopic scrap of silk and lace. It was touching her. Touching her *there*. God. It was almost like being inside her. He had wrapped the fabric around himself, now it was wrapped around her. Just thinking about it made him hot. How it would look on her; how it would cup her in front, the soft silk and lace framing her even softer, silkier flesh; how it would disappear between the cheeks of her ass. It had a tiny satin bow in back, where the string met the waist. He could picture it, nestled in the small of her back, laying against her in the place he touched her most often. He stared at her, then dropped his eyes to his lap as she looked up from her paperwork. He shifted in his chair, discreetly rearranging himself; trying to ease his discomfort as his erection strained against his boxers. He never would have figured it. Not the thong itself. That was easy enough to swallow. He chewed the inside of his bottom lip. She was a beautiful, sensuous woman who restrained her sensuality. She might wear sensible suits with knee-length skirts and baggy off duty clothes, but the lipstick was a dead giveaway. That deep stain of color on her lips. And the shoes. The heels, the rich texture of them, suede and patent leather. They were fuck-me shoes, plain and simple. He may have only glimpsed her satin underwear once by candlelight, but that once had been enough to fuel midnight fantasies for years. A bit plain, but classy. Nice. Very nice. He could recognize Victoria's Secret when he saw it. No, it wasn't the thong. It was that she hadn't backed down when he teased her about tying her up with the leather thongs, just given him one of her Looks; she had, in fact, given as good as she got. It was that she had the nerve to tantalize him with the thought. The thought that she was *wearing* the damn thing. Wearing it *right now*. She had thrown the gauntlet down. Thank heaven for boxers and pleated pants. He might have strangled by now in briefs. The question was: What was he going to do about it? He knew what he wanted to do. Oh, yeah. No, the *real* question was: Would she let him? Two could play at this. She hadn't said anything about the haiku, but he had seen the corner of the card sticking out of her jacket pocket. Her hand kept coming up off the keyboard unconsciously, fingering it, touching it. It was straightforward, but maybe it was a bit too tame. Maybe he should push a little and see what would happen. He snatched up a pen quickly and, without giving himself too much time to think, scribbled Rosy pink, blush red Silken petals unfolding Fragrant, soft and sweet Be Mine in his bold hand. Was it too much? He didn't care. He had to try. He glanced up at her and was thankful to see she was still bent over her paperwork. He got up and shrugged into his jacket, then crossed the room to her. She looked up at him, her mouth on level with his hips... Down, boy! He lay a hand gently on her shoulder and squeezed lightly, smiling down at her. "Happy Valentine's Day, Scully. I'll see you on Monday." Her lips twitched and she favored him with one of her Scully Specials. "Have a good weekend, Mulder. And thanks again." He gave her shoulder one last squeeze and, while she was still looking up at him, slid the folded haiku just under the edge of her keyboard and made his escape. It was in the hands of the gods. _____ End Author's Notes: Thanks, as always, to Deb for her encouragement and for beta reading. Special thanks to Bob, for his support and inspiration. Lydia, this one's for you! For those of you who are interested, the story titles in this series, which should be available at any of the wonderful Gossamer archives, (if you can't find them, mail me and I'll send them to you) are: Like A Red, Red Rose Like A Red, Red Rose II - Like The Melodie Like A Red, Red Rose III - Newly Sprung; Sweetly Play'd Like A Red, Red Rose IV - My Luve Is Like A Red, Red Rose V - Rosebud Like A Red, Red Rose VI - Blushing Rose So, please, let me know what you think... Audrey Cooper xf_writer@geocities.com S: "Business must be booming." M: "I think you mean banging." The X-Files, Avatar