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kat_lair***
Title: The Suit Makes the Woman
Author: MistressKat /kat_lair
Fandom: The X-Files
Pairing: Mulder/Scully implied
Rating: PG
Word count: 404
Disclaimer: Not mine, only playing
Summary: “Now that’s what I call making an effort.”
Author notes: Written for randomly selected fandom and prompt (cross-dressing)
“…and that is how JFK discovered the existence of extra-terrestrial life.” Frohike downs the contents of his cup, belching decisively.
“That’s… an interesting theory,” Mulder says. His cheap Nixon mask is pushed back to the top of his head, the elastic band chafing uncomfortably.
‘Poor show,’ Byers had announced, but hey, it was all Mulder had had time for. He’d been running a lead all day and getting a costume for the Lone Gunmen’s Halloween party hadn’t exactly been high on the list of priorities.
“Oh, I’ve got proof,” Frohike insists, “Just let me…” He trails off mid-sentence, mouth hanging open unattractively as he stares at something over Mulder’s shoulder.
“What?” he asks, frowning, just as Langly says: “Now that’s what I call making an effort,” as he reaches out and lifts Frohike’s jaw up with non-too gentle fingers, shutting his gaping maw with an audible click.
Mulder turns to look and… Yes, fuck, for once Frohike’s reaction is entirely warranted.
By the doorway, Scully is surveying the room, clearly trying to locate a familiar face among the throng of conspiracy theorists, most of whom are staring at her in open lust and/or trepidation. It is, Mulder thinks, hard to blame them.
He swallows, clutching at his cup hard enough to cringle the cheap plastic as he takes in her outfit: pinstripe suit covering a shirt so white it nearly glows, accessorised with a thin tie and a fedora tipped rakishly over one eye. The overall effect is striking and severe and, well, smoking hot.
Scully catches his eye finally and smiles, making her way over. The crowd of paranoid nerds parts on either side of her like the Red Sea.
“Mulder,” she says in greeting, before nodding at the others. “Great party, guys.”
“What…” Frohike clears his throat. “Who are you?”
“Oh!” Scully grins. “Eliot Ness. Like it?”
Frohike nods mutely and Mulder seizes the moment to get her away before she does permanent damage to the poor man without realising it.
“Let me get you a drink, Scully,” he says, proud to find that his voice sounds almost normal.
She stops him before they reach the drinks table though, with a firm grip on his arm. “Nah,” Scully says, “I’ll do that. You just stay here, doll, and look pretty.” With a smirk that is positively evil, she leaves him standing in the middle of the room, bewildered and undeniably turned on.
***
Title: The Suit Makes the Woman
Author: MistressKat /
kat_lair Fandom: The X-Files
Pairing: Mulder/Scully implied
Rating: PG
Word count: 404
Disclaimer: Not mine, only playing
Summary: “Now that’s what I call making an effort.”
Author notes: Written for randomly selected fandom and prompt (cross-dressing)
“…and that is how JFK discovered the existence of extra-terrestrial life.” Frohike downs the contents of his cup, belching decisively.
“That’s… an interesting theory,” Mulder says. His cheap Nixon mask is pushed back to the top of his head, the elastic band chafing uncomfortably.
‘Poor show,’ Byers had announced, but hey, it was all Mulder had had time for. He’d been running a lead all day and getting a costume for the Lone Gunmen’s Halloween party hadn’t exactly been high on the list of priorities.
“Oh, I’ve got proof,” Frohike insists, “Just let me…” He trails off mid-sentence, mouth hanging open unattractively as he stares at something over Mulder’s shoulder.
“What?” he asks, frowning, just as Langly says: “Now that’s what I call making an effort,” as he reaches out and lifts Frohike’s jaw up with non-too gentle fingers, shutting his gaping maw with an audible click.
Mulder turns to look and… Yes, fuck, for once Frohike’s reaction is entirely warranted.
By the doorway, Scully is surveying the room, clearly trying to locate a familiar face among the throng of conspiracy theorists, most of whom are staring at her in open lust and/or trepidation. It is, Mulder thinks, hard to blame them.
He swallows, clutching at his cup hard enough to cringle the cheap plastic as he takes in her outfit: pinstripe suit covering a shirt so white it nearly glows, accessorised with a thin tie and a fedora tipped rakishly over one eye. The overall effect is striking and severe and, well, smoking hot.
Scully catches his eye finally and smiles, making her way over. The crowd of paranoid nerds parts on either side of her like the Red Sea.
“Mulder,” she says in greeting, before nodding at the others. “Great party, guys.”
“What…” Frohike clears his throat. “Who are you?”
“Oh!” Scully grins. “Eliot Ness. Like it?”
Frohike nods mutely and Mulder seizes the moment to get her away before she does permanent damage to the poor man without realising it.
“Let me get you a drink, Scully,” he says, proud to find that his voice sounds almost normal.
She stops him before they reach the drinks table though, with a firm grip on his arm. “Nah,” Scully says, “I’ll do that. You just stay here, doll, and look pretty.” With a smirk that is positively evil, she leaves him standing in the middle of the room, bewildered and undeniably turned on.
***
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