"Lipstick" 
by Juliettt@aol.com (Completed January 7, 1996)

This one is another Marriage story, set sometime very early in the 
third year of Scully's and Mulder's marriage.  It's really more of a
scene than a story, now that I think about it.

Dana Scully (Mulder), Fox Mulder, and _The X-Files_ belong to 
Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen Productions, FOX Broadcasting, and 
Gillian Anderson and David Duchovny.  I haven't asked permission 
for them to come out and play, but I'm hoping he doesn't mind as I 
mean no offense or creative toe-treading.  William Fox Mulder, this 
story, and the universe of the Marriage series are mine, however.

***************************
"Lipstick"
by Juliettt@aol.com
***************************

	The alarm came on quietly to the soft rock station they had 
preset, barely loud enough to hear, but it was only a second before 
her fingers came over and clicked it off, lest it awaken him.  She 
rolled back to her right, snuggling more closely against his body, 
and closed her eyes, breathing deeply the still early morning air, 
the coolness of leftover night, the smell of him.  He was warm but 
the way his body curled around hers made her shiver slightly with 
the pleasure.  It hadn't abated any since their marriage, and they 
still looked on one another with the eyes of new lovers even after 
more than two years.  She wanted to stay here, just holding and 
being held, forever.  Watching him sleep, amazingly, through the 
alarm and her small movements, tucked comfortably in the envelope 
of security their shared bed afforded.  There were a few things that 
would always awaken him, of course: the shrill ring of the phone, the 
cry or coo of their son, her own voice speaking to him directly.  But 
none of those came now and so he slept.

	She smiled, watching him, loving him.  His hair fell down 
over his face, relaxed now, and so much like little William's.  His 
bare chest rose and fell against her face and shoulder, clad in his 
pyjama top.  His long fingers curled around her back, holding her 
close in the safest place she knew.  And she wanted to stay.

	But after a long moment she frowned and sat up carefully, 
pulling away from him.  He made a soft movement of protest and 
his brows tightened in a slight frown of his own.  She slid away 
from him and he murmured until she rested her palm on his hair, 
stroking gently.

	"Shhh.  Sleep, Fox," she whispered.  He relaxed again and
rolled over and reached for her pillow, pulling it snugly against his
chest with a soft sigh.  It was still warm from her body and he
rubbed his face against it as though he thought it was she.  His
movements brought a lump to her throat.  This was going to be very 
hard on both of them.  They had not been separated for any 
significant length of time in years, particularly not since their 
marriage.  She sighed almost silently and stood up, then crossed 
the room to where her clothes were hanging in wait for the morning.  
She took them and tiptoed softly out of the room, closing the door 
to the bathroom most of the way to dull the sounds but not enough 
that the soft *snick* of the latch would awaken him, and dressed 
quickly.  She had showered -- they had showered -- the night 
before, so that she would not awaken him this morning.  She smiled.
He had taken the opportunity to join her.

	She gazed at herself in the mirror.  Dr. Dana Katherine 
Scully, Special Agent and head of the Paranormal Pathologies 
division of the FBI.  Mrs. Fox Mulder.  "Mommy" to their son William.  
A happy, beloved woman.  But this morning her eyes were sad.  This 
was an enforced absence and she hated it.  Hated being made to 
leave her husband and son, even for a week, even to give an important 
paper at an important international conference in Chicago before 
important people.  No, that wasn't entirely true.  She hated it precisely 
*because* it was "important."  *This* was important -- this life they 
had made together in this house.  She would be FBI until she retired, 
but she would *always* be his -- theirs.  

	Scully applied her light makeup carefully.  She never used 
much -- had never needed to do so.  She reached for a tissue to blot 
her lipstick but stopped and reconsidered.  A slow smile curved her 
lips and she reached for the tube again and wrote on the mirror.  He 
would find it when he awoke.  Then, leaning forward, she pressed 
her lips against the mirror.  When she leaned back there was the 
perfect imprint of her lips in a kiss next to her message.  She smiled
again, imagining his reaction, then packed up her toiletries and 
abandoned the bathroom to darkness once more.

	A quick trip back through the bedroom.  She paused at the 
door and looked at him, sprawled across their bed with her pillow 
clutched to his chest.  A very tempting display indeed.  She smiled 
again, this time a little sadly, and slipped out.

	Her bags were already next to the front door, and she 
added her toiletry bag and shoes to the pile, then headed back to 
the kitchen.  Tea this morning -- the coffee would awaken Fox.  She 
was tempted again but shook her head as she got out the cereal 
and juice.  She would call the cab when she sat down to eat.  Right
now, however. . . .

	In stockinged feet she padded back to the back hallway, 
taking a left instead of a right.  A few steps took her to the corner 
room, the nursery.  She tiptoed up to the crib and peeked over the 
side rail.

	He was sprawled out on his stomach, his dark hair messy, 
his  tiny, chubby arms clutching his teddy to his chest.  His position 
almost mirrored Fox's, and she had to smile through the tears in her 
eyes.

	"Beautiful, isn't he," the quiet voice said behind her, and a 
pair of strong arms slid around her waist, pulling her back against a 
warm and bare chest.  

	"Almost as beautiful as his daddy," she whispered, and he 
hugged her a little more tightly.  They stood watching their son sleep
for a long moment, then he kissed the top of her head and pulled her 
out into the hallway and into his arms once more.  

	"Why are you up?" she asked against his shoulder.

	"Have you eaten yet?" came his voice in her hair.  When 
she shook her head he continued.  "Well, then, I guess I'm having 
breakfast with my wife."  She drew back and smiled up at him and 
followed him into the kitchen.

	He began brewing coffee while she picked up the phone, 
dialled, and confirmed the cab.  

	"I could take you."

	She shook her head.  "You'd have to wake William and 
then he'd never get back to sleep."  She looked at him.  "I didn't 
want to wake you."

	"I'm glad I woke up," he said, pulling down two mugs.  He 
had wanted to awaken before she did, just so he could hold her and 
watch her and savor their time together.  A week wasn't forever, but 
right now it seemed like a horribly long sentence.  "Coffee?"

	She accepted the mug and took a deep swallow.  
"Mmmm. . . ."

	They sat down to cereal and toast and the paper, which 
remained folded on the table where he had placed it.  Instead they 
talked a little, using few words but many looks.  Finally when they 
were done he told her to leave the dishes, and they moved to the 
couch.  He opened his arms to her and she nestled against him and 
they held each other for a long time, gathering strength and enough
love, they hoped, to see them through the coming week.

	"I'm going to miss you so much," he whispered against her 
hair.

	She nodded, rubbing her face against his skin.  "Me, too."  
Finally she looked up and met his eyes, then his lips, a slow, long, 
deep kiss.  No urgency.  Just love and desire and contentment.

	And then they heard the car horn outside.  He pulled away 
and stroked her face with sensitive fingertips.

	"Guess it's time."

	She nodded slowly.  "Guess so."  They rose from the couch 
together and walked to the front door.  He bent to pick up her bags 
but she laughed and pointed to his bare chest and slipped on her 
shoes before picking them up, herself.  He opened the door and she 
stepped out.  The cabbie hurried over and took the suitcase and 
garment bag, leaving her with her purse and coat and computer.  
She looked back at Mulder standing in the doorway.

	Just look at him, standing there.  Dark green pyjama 
bottoms and no top, his muscles flexing slightly as he leaned on 
one elbow against the doorway.  Dark hair softly mussed from sleep. 
A faint shadow on his cheeks, scratchy with his nighttime beard.  
His eyes drowsy and warm, focusing on her.  Lips curved up in a 
soft smile.  Utterly male, utterly sexy, utterly hers.

	He was watching her.  Just look at her, standing there.  
Gold linen suit and a soft, creamy blouse.  His pearls in her ears 
and his ring on her finger.  Red hair with gold highlights shining in 
the early morning sun, a soft, burning cloud around her face.  Ivory 
skin and those sweet lips faintly colored with a neutral lipstick.  Her 
eyes blue and filled with longing.  Utterly female, utterly sexy, utterly 
his.

	She set down the laptop case and her purse and her folded 
coat atop them, deliberately, unmindful of the cab's meter running 
behind her, and walked purposefully back up the path and into his 
waiting arms, meeting his mouth more than halfway.  A plea and a 
promise asked and answered instantaneously, and a sweet, hot kiss.  
His fingers in her hair, mussing it slightly, love rendering her more 
beautiful in his eyes.  Then she stepped back and they looked at one 
another again.  There was no need for words but they said them 
anyway, always mindful of opportunities wasted.

	"Love you, Scully."

	"Love you."

	And then she remembered the taxi and grabbed her things 
and flashed him a smile and hurried to the taxi and climbed in, 
slamming the door after her.  She looked back at him, tears in her 
eyes, watching him standing there watching her, knowing his heart 
was both full and heavy, as hers was.

	And then the cab rounded the corner and she was gone,
leaving him with a faint whiff of her perfume and a smudge of lipstick 
on his lips.


*End*


The Marriage Series:

"Longing" 

------------------------------------------
"Epithalamion"
"Wonders Wrought" (2 parts)
"The Last of the Chambord"
"Waking"
"On the Road"
"Girls' Day Out"
"Old Habits Die Hard"
"Watching the Storm"
"The Madness of an Hour" [*]
"Life Changes" (2 parts)
"Mother's Day"  [*]
"Success"
"Nursemaid"   [*]
"Cherish"  
"Childhood Lullabies"   [*]
"Everything I Want for Christmas" [*]
"Lullaby For a New Generation"
"Lipstick"
"Room Service"   [*]

[*] These stories are still in the editing process; the others may be
found on the world wide web and ftp sites.