Title: Wishing You Would Dare Author: mimic117 Email: mimic1172@gmail.com Rating: R, believe it or not (don't gasp like that - you'll swallow a bug or something) for suggestive language and naughty imagery. Category: SRH Spoilers: none for the show, but this is part of the series that began with "Wishing I Could Touch You". You should most likely read the first three stories in order, but this one could stand on its own in the series. You do need to accept that M&S are in a loving, consensual relationship. Don't gag, it could happen! Summary: We will now attempt a willing suspension of disbelief. Three words - charity male auction. What happens when Mulder takes Scully's dare? Keywords: Mulder/Scully romance Archive: Certainly, if you wish. I'll do Gossamer and Ephemeral myself, thanks. Have your people call my people and we'll do your archive next week. Disclaimer: Oh puhleeze! I haven't the vaguest idea why anyone would think they were mine. I certainly haven't seen any royalty checks recently. ~looking, looking~ Nope, nothing here. Guess I'm just doing this for fun, not profit. So don't get all bent out of shape. I always put my toys back. Author likes to babble at the end once she's sucked you in. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Wishing You Would Dare by mimic117 "Scully, I don't care if it's to benefit Mother Teresa and the Little Sisters of Charity! I refuse to put myself on display like this!" Mulder glared at his partner with all the determination of a man who is terrified of humiliating himself within an inch of his life. As much as he loved her, come hell or high water, there was absolutely no way he was going to do this. "Okay, Mulder," Scully replied without rancor. "You don't have to if you don't want to." Dropping the invitation on his desk, his eyes shot open in astonishment at her easy capitulation. "What do you mean, okay?" He watched warily as Scully gathered the files on her desk into a neat pile, preparing to go home on time for once. Innocent eyes lifted to Mulder's face in confusion as she considered his question. "I mean okay, Mulder. I can't force you to do something you don't want to, and I would never try, you know that. I realize it's short notice, with the auction being tomorrow night and all. It's okay if you don't feel you can help Agent Ralston's family by doing this." Mulder's shoulders slumped in dejection. He knew how easily he could be talked into doing anything Scully asked as long as there was a hint of guilt involved. But not this time. Mentally shoving an iron rod up his spine, Mulder let her see his displeasure at her blatant attempt to manipulate him. "That was really low, Agent Scully," he muttered through clenched teeth. "You know I'd like nothing better than to help Ralston's family. He was a good agent until he had that mid- life crisis and ran off with a biker chick and his life savings. But this is not a way that I'm comfortable with when it comes to raising money." "Mulder, a charity male auction is a fun event. The men being auctioned get a chance to strut their stuff for a few minutes, and the winning bidder gets an attractive man to have dinner with for a night," Scully reasoned in her most practiced 'be sensible, this is not an X-file' voice. "Is it really any worse than charity female mud wrestling?" Mulder threw his hands into the air. "Hell yeah, it's worse! You want ME to go up there and 'strut my stuff' in front of our colleagues in the bureau, Scully! Sure it's worse!" Scully soothingly stroked her hand down her indignant partner's shirt sleeve. Taking his hand, she brought it to her lips, kissing his knuckles. "You're right, Mulder," she soothed. "I just wasn't thinking straight. When Holly told me that Agent Cross had to back out yesterday, I immediately suggested you to replace him. I guess I was just thinking of how attractive you are, and how proud I'd be to see you in the limelight. But you're right. I don't think I want you on display for all those other women to drool and lust over. I'll just tell Holly that you're busy." Scully patted his hand, gathering up her purse and coat. With his eyes trained on the floor, Mulder didn't notice the wicked little smile yanking up the corners of her lovely mouth. By the time he looked at her face, the only expression visible was one of contrition and loving acceptance. "Well, now, Scully, hold on a minute," he huffed. "Were you planning to go to this auction yourself? I mean, I suppose I could help out if Holly is really in a bind, but I don't like the idea of being thrown to the secretarial-shark pool like a piece of raw steak, you know?" "No no, Mulder," she assured him. "You don't have to do this. I mean, I'm sure there are already plenty of handsome agents signed up for it. I heard that Macready, Reynolds, and Schwimmer are all on the list. You'd just be one among many, and while I know you'd be the most attractive man there, I hate to think of you putting yourself through such a degrading experience. Don't give it another thought." Shrugging into her coat, Scully reached up on tiptoes and softly kissed him on the lips, using her thumb to remove her lipstick traces. "It's alright, Scully," he grinned. "I've decided to go ahead and do the auction. If nothing else, it'll be something new for everyone to talk about, wouldn't you say?" Scully's eyebrows crinkled in concern as she gazed at Mulder's determined face. "Well, if you're sure, Mulder. I guess it's up to you, after all. I'll see you in the morning, then. My turn to bring breakfast, right?" Mulder gave her one of his full-watt smiles, delighted to receive one back. "Better make it something substantial, Scully. I have a feeling I'm going to need my strength before the day is over." With a cheery wave over her shoulder, Scully left the basement office with a rapid step. Mulder never heard the soft snorts coming from behind the hand his loving partner held over her mouth. But as the door closed after her retreating figure, Mulder began to get a new, creepy, feeling. Like he'd just been had - big time. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Friday dawned bright and sunny to the delighted eyes of the denizens of DC. But in the basement of the Hoover Building, it was twilight, as always. Dana Scully balanced the cardboard carrier of coffee cups in one hand, a slippery pile of files in the other, and attempted to avoid stumbling over the various boxes that had appeared in her usual pathway overnight. This left only one place for her to carry the bag of breakfast muffins; her teeth. Scully chuffed in disgust when she saw the office door was shut. Kicking out in frustration, it snapped open under her assault, causing Mulder to jump in his chair, just barely avoiding a backward somersault to the floor by the grace of God and the metal trim on the edge of his desk. "Jesus, Scully," Mulder complained, righting himself. "You gotta bust in here like Rambo? You scared me out of several years of my life, which I can't spare anymore. Why didn't you just knock?" Scully pinned him to his chair with a look of supreme annoyance, and walking to his desk, spat the bakery bag into Mulder's lap. "Exactly what part of my anatomy would you suggest I use next time my hands are full, Agent Mulder?" Seeing the way his face lit up as his mouth opened on a rude reply, Scully shot back "Say it, Mulder, and you'll never see what I bought at Victoria's Secret last week." Mulder's mouth shut with a clack that would have been audible out in the hallway. Deciding that chickening out was the better part of valor, he chose to go on the offensive concerning breakfast. "There'd better not be a whole wheat bran muffin in this bag with my name on it, Agent Scully, or I'll have to arrest you for assault on a federal officer with a deadly weapon." Mulder gingerly unrolled the top of the bag and peeked in with one eye closed, keeping his head well out of the way as if he thought it might blow sky high at any moment. Placing the files on her desk, Scully rolled her stiff shoulders and handed him a coffee cup. Snatching the bag out of his hand, she said, "I don't think your arteries could take the change in fiber content. They'd probably end up being shredded by all the roughage. I bought a cherry bran muffin for me, and..." "Ahhh," Mulder sighed, grabbing the bag back and sticking his face inside, "cream cheese." Taking a huge bite of the sugary chunk of cheese sticking out of the top, his eyes closed in ecstasy as he mumbled, "Scully, you are just too good to me." "Funny, that's what my therapist keeps telling me." Turning to hang her overcoat, Scully was brought up short by a large garment bag blocking her usual spot. "Mulder," she frowned, "why is your garment bag trying to pull down the coat rack?" Jumping up from his chair, Mulder removed the offending bag to make room for Scully's coat. Hooking the bag's hanger over the back of the door, he explained, "Oh that's just the clothes I'm wearing for the auction tonight. Holly said we can wear whatever we want, and bring music to use, too. I figured since I never get out of here on time anyway, I'd better bring my clothes along." "You're really going to do it, Mulder?" He nodded as the last of the muffin disappeared between his sticky lips. "Well," Scully marveled, "I really admire the way you've put aside your reservations about this. So what are you wearing?" Mulder shook his head, waggling his eyebrows at her. "It's a secret, Scully. You'll just have to wait until tonight to find out." Scully's look of irritation was replaced by a look of abject horror as a dreadful idea occurred to her. "NO! Mulder, you're not going to dress up like Elvis, are you?!" Smacking himself on the forehead, Mulder groaned, "Oh man, why didn't *I* think of that? Shit, now it's too late. Guess I'll just have to stick with the clothes I brought with me." Scully exhaled hard enough to stir papers on the desk. Giving Mulder a chagrined smile, she sat down to begin her work day. "I should have known you had more sense than to pull a stunt like that in front of the whole bureau, Mulder," she apologized. Mulder's voice shot down an octave and a half as he mumbled, "Thank ya, thank ya verra much." Spinning in his chair, Mulder also began the task of sorting the day's chores, as he contemplated the surprise in store for his favorite G-woman at the evening's festivities. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Special Agent Scully was starting to get antsy. The auction had been going on for nearly an hour already, and still no Mulder. And as if that wasn't bad enough, she'd never made it home in time to change clothes. There she sat, in her charcoal gray suit and sensible blue blouse, while all around her, fellow female agents, secretaries, clerks and assorted personnel of the feminine gender chattered and hooted like flocks of iridescent exotic birds. Obviously *they'd* had time to don something suitable for an evening out if they were the lucky bidder tonight. It was a good thing she wasn't planning on trying to win any other agent besides her partner. His taste in ties might come into question occasionally, but at least she could be confident that his choice of suits would go with what she was wearing. So far, the evening had not been without a certain humor. Scully was pleasantly surprised by the charm and poise displayed by agents she had always seen as being fairly dull, though handsome. The dozen or so men who had been auctioned off thus far had chosen music and outfits that ran the gamut from construction worker ("Up On the Roof"), to "Zoot Suit Riot" (complete with zoot suit), to "Hooked on Disco". Scully couldn't help shuddering at the white polyester- clad John Travolta wannabe. She had always been glad that disco died a sudden and horrible death. The amount of money collected averaged several hundred dollars per auctionee, with the top bid so far being the $450.00 paid by Skinner's secretary for Agent Macready of the jet black curly hair, long-lashed green eyes, and construction hard-hat. Just as Scully was regretting that Mulder hadn't been able to go through with it, the banquet hall suddenly went pitch black. After the obligatory shrieks died down, she could hear careful footsteps making their way out to the end of the runway. She would know that sound anywhere. A sudden shot of adrenaline raised her body temperature in anticipation, as Mistress-of-Ceremonies Holly announced the next item up for bid. "Ladies," Holly called for attention, "our last auction of the night is well worth waiting for. He's come all the way up from his basement den to join us, and I think you'll agree that this is a side of him we've never seen before. Here he is... The Fox himself... Special Agent Mulder!" After a moment of blindness as the lights flashed on, Scully's eyes immediately locked onto the dark figure almost at the end of the runway. A figure down on his right knee, black jeans stretched tight over the thigh under his right hand, black leather-clad left elbow resting on his left knee. His left hand shaded the sunglasses on his face as his hips slowly bounced up and down. I'm too sexy for my love too sexy for my love love's going to leave me Scully's internal organs liquefied and flowed south as Mulder gracefully came to his feet and began swiveling his body to the music. She proceeded to register each of his movements without conscious thought, aided by pure lust. I'm too sexy for my shirt too sexy for my shirt so sexy it hurts and I'm too sexy for Milan too sexy for Milan New York and Japan and I'm too sexy for your body too sexy for your body no way I'm disco dancing I'm a model, you know what I mean, and I do my little turn on the catwalk yeah on the catwalk, on the catwalk yeah, I do my little turn on the catwalk and I'm too sexy for my car too sexy for my car too sexy by far and I'm too sexy for my hat too sexy for my hat whaddya think about that I'm a model, you know what I mean, and I do my little turn on the catwalk yeah on the catwalk, on the catwalk yeah, I shake my little tush on the catwalk I'm too sexy for my hand too sexy for my hand too sexy for my hand I'm a model, you know what I mean, and I do my little turn on the catwalk yeah on the catwalk, on the catwalk yeah, I shake my little tush on the catwalk and I'm too sexy for my cat too sexy for my cat poor pussy, poor pussy cat and I'm too sexy for my love too sexy for my love love's going to leave me and I'm too sexy for this song ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Several seconds of dead silence were followed by an explosion of applause and cheering that smote Mulder's ears like a sonic boom. He fancied the shock waves rolling over his head might be visible to the naked eye. However, Mulder stayed in his crouch for several more minutes, recovering his breath. Only once did he look into the audience, peeking over the top of his sunglasses to lock eyes with his equally breathless, stunned partner before rising to his feet. Bowing, Mulder retrieved his leather jacket on his way to the center of the stage. Once in position, he assumed the 'at ease' stance, waiting for the noise to subside so they could finish the rest of the auction. He felt he'd created enough of a sensation for one evening. Dana Scully sat as one transformed into a pillar of salt. She had just witnessed a side to her partner/lover/best friend, that she not only hadn't suspected was possible, but would have bet money against if anyone had ever broached it as a consideration. She'd essentially dared him into this escapade, never expecting Mulder to get into the spirit of fun. But to actually be the star of the show... Scully wondered how big a puddle she was going to leave on her chair when she stood up. By the time she returned to a state of coherent thought, bidding on The Fox was already up to $365.00 and rising fast. There appeared to be a bidding war going on between three of the secretaries and two clerks from transportation requisition. Scully's eyes narrowed as she recognized contenders. She'd heard several of these women gossiping about Mulder when they didn't know she was in the restroom. The usual topic under speculation concerned how the size of a certain portion of his anatomy related to the size of another portion. General opinion seemed to be equally divided between his nose and his feet as the determining factor. There was no bloody way in hell any of them were getting their paws on him to test their theory, no matter how many credit cards she had to max out. Rationally, it was for a good cause. From that point on, there was no doubt in anyone's mind who would be the winning bidder. Dana Scully was relentless in her quest to save her partner's gorgeous hide from those human harpies. When the gavel was finally struck on the "winning bid of $875.00, sold to Special Agent Scully", few people would have been surprised to see her laying in a spreading lake of her own blood. If looks could have killed, her life would be slowly draining away through multiple stab wounds and lacerations. The one who was most pleased about the outcome appeared to be her partner. As Mulder walked to the stairs at the end of the runway to the sound of disappointed applause, Scully's senses grew selective about what they would allow to register in her brain. The high-decibel noise of attendees preparing to leave became the buzz of a mosquito in her ear. Her optic nerves didn't notice the movement of people gathering up belongings and heading to the exit. All of her being was focused on the tall, dark man with the enticing smile who was now standing in front of her, waiting. For several long seconds, neither one moved, locked into a moment of erotic anticipation. Placing his right hand over his heart, Mulder bowed deeply from the waist. Straightening, he offered an elbow to lead Scully to the payment table. Still nothing was spoken between them. The few men in the audience who had come with their significant others, either to enjoy the spectacle or in the hope of preventing the sudden onset of a hormonal crisis, watched enviously as Dana Scully took the arm of this stranger they thought they knew. They looked at him almost as intently as his bedazzled partner was doing, trying to understand how they could have been so blind to the man under the agent. They never considered the fact that perhaps he deliberately hid under the enveloping cloak of the FBI, allowing a select few to see within. There was only one thing any of them was certain of at that moment, as they watched their colleagues, still immersed in each other, walk across the room: Special Agent Fox Mulder was getting laid tonight. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ For once in her life, Scully didn't know what to say. There were so many things she wanted to tell her partner. Such as how proud she was of him. And how incredible he looked. And how much she wanted to throw him under a table and fuck the life out of him. But the first thing that came out of her mouth as they left the payment area was, "Where did you learn to do that?" The little grin Mulder had been wearing for the last fifteen minutes mutated into a full-blown smile: with teeth, just the way she liked it. "Didn't I ever tell you I did runway modeling for department stores while I was in England, Scully?" Opening her mouth to ask why he had chosen to perform in such a manner for all these relative strangers, Scully was struck with the sudden realization that Mulder hadn't done it for the charity, or the recognition, or the applause. He'd done it for her. She didn't know why she was so certain. Scully only knew there was no doubt in her mind Mulder had planned his little exhibition for no other reason than because he knew she would enjoy it. And that he was aware of the exact moment when she reached that conclusion. Mulder stopped her near the banquet room exit and leaned close. "If my Mistress will allow?" he murmured. "I need to retrieve my suit from the changing area backstage. It'll just take a minute." "Mistress?" Scully's eyebrow nearly shot off her forehead in astonishment. Mulder leaned in even closer, until she could feel waves of heat curling around her from his body. "I'm yours for the night, Mistress. Body bought and paid for, to do what you will." The passion in his words consumed her with its fire as Mulder's voice became a whisper for her alone. "My heart and soul, however, I give freely, without reservation. So if my mistress will permit me?" She couldn't find the strength for more than a single nod. Scully watched Mulder trot up the steps to the stage, made speechless once again by the power this man had to arouse her beyond human tolerance. She idly enjoyed the sight of his ass being caressed by the skin-tight black denim. That's when a thought struck her right between the eyes; Mulder was wearing jeans. And she had already learned, through personal experience, that where there was Mulder in jeans, there was Mulder naked *under* his jeans. Scully's mind reeled with the possibility that while her partner had been bumping, and grinding, and swiveling his hips for God and all the Bureau to see, nothing was coming between him and his Levis. That thought sent another rush of moisture into her already damp panties. She knew that would have been a consideration when choosing his wardrobe for the evening. Mulder was standing in front of her before Scully knew that he'd returned. She started as he interrupted her daydreaming, a fact he hadn't missed as evidenced by the little quirk at one corner of his mouth. Placing his hand on her lower back, Mulder led Scully toward the elevators. The hall was all but deserted now, save for the cleaning staff whose work day was only beginning. As the elevator doors opened, Scully considered for the first time that perhaps her outfit and Mulder's wouldn't match for a night out on the town. "I guess I'd better go home and change into something more suitable if I'm taking my slave out to dinner tonight," she observed. "If I'd known what you planned to wear, I would have made sure to find something appropriate for the occasion." Reaching over to the control panel, Mulder pushed the stop button. With the garment bag and leather jacket hanging over one shoulder, he closed the distance between them, stopping just millimeters shy of touching Scully's body. "Tell me what you would have worn, my Mistress," he breathed into her hair. "I want to imagine how you look if you'd known." Scully gulped as Mulder nuzzled her temple with his lips, considering what would excite him most. "I would have bought a short, tight black skirt," she sighed, "made out of a soft knit fabric." Mulder rubbed the tip of his nose up and down the side of hers, humming in approval. "I wouldn't wear any stockings at all, because the skirt would be too short," she offered. "I'd have on open-toed black leather heels, the kind with an ankle strap. My toenails would be painted a dark burgundy red." A deep groan vibrated the side of Scully's neck where Mulder was scratching his beard stubble against her skin. Scully gave an answering groan, leaning back against the cold elevator wall. "My... um, my shirt would just be a plain black, high-necked T- shirt, just like the one you have on, Mulder." Scully thought she might hyperventilate from panting so hard. Mulder was using his free hand to burrow under all the layers of suiting, trying to find a way inside to the soft skin he knew was waiting for him. But an important question made him pause for a moment in his mission. "Underneath, Scully," he coaxed. "What would you wear underneath?" Scully fought to regain control of her disintegrating thought processes long enough to form a coherent sentence. It was becoming more and more difficult, due to the wonderful sensations Mulder's tongue was creating behind her ear. "If I wore anything," she smirked as Mulder whimpered, "it would be green satin, so it would be a surprise against the black. Green satin bikini panties, and a green satin push-up bra, so I'd look like one of those girls in the videos you don't own." The garment bag and jacket hit the floor as Mulder's agile mind supplied the completed image. Closing the few microns of space between them with a jolt that made Scully squeak in surprise, he ground his already considerable erection into her abdomen. Running her hands up and down Mulder's back, she pulled his shirt out of his pants, while he performed the same service with her blouse. Just as one of his warm hands reached the underside of her breast while the other was slithering under her slacks to cup her ass, Mulder stopped, pulling back enough to look into her eyes. "Would Mistress care to continue home and change," he rasped, "or is there something her devoted slave can do for her first?" Releasing her hold on his T-shirt, Scully ran her nails over his nipples just to hear the little keening cry it always caused. Then reaching up on tiptoe, she devoured his mouth for the first time that night, hardly leaving either of them enough oxygen to breathe. Pulling back from the kiss out of necessity, Scully gazed into the molten depths of her lover's eyes and decided to test a theory. Plunging her hands down the back of his pants, she was pleased to discover her hypothesis scientifically provable - nothing-but-Mulder under these jeans... Cupped bare, warm, smooth MulderAss, her smile curved against his lips as she kissed him. She whispered into his throat, "I've never been done in a descending elevator... care to rectify that, Slave?" Scully swallowed his groan as Mulder pinned her to the padded walls of the elevator, effectively kissing the legs out from under her as he fought for enough breath to answer. "Your slave lives to 'do you', Mistress..." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Later that evening, some members of the building's cleaning staff wondered what had caused the loud thumping noise, that seemed to be metallic in tone, coming from the elevator shaft. Someone suggested the heating ducts were expanding or cooling off (or something), and everyone else concurred that it made sense. Probably heat related... it was a generally well known fact that all buildings made odd noises at times. Some were just odder than others... THE END "Come on, Scully. How do I know you're telling me the truth if you don't show me how it doesn't work?" "Fine. If it will shut you up." "It'll shut me up. And for future reference, I have a favorite way of being shut up-" "Shut up, Mulder." "Shutting up." from "Truth AND Dare" by Jamie Greco Author's Notes: This was a new experience for me. (No, not the lack of smut! Sheesh.) I wrote this entire story straight off the top of my head on the basis of one photograph in a magazine. (April 2000 Movieline. Page 54. Check it out!) Now that this is finished, I can have that damned song surgically removed from my brain. I love the song, mind you, but not during every waking moment for weeks on end! Sincerely humble thanks to Jacquie for the wonderful beta experience, both giving and receiving. (Did that sound as kinky to you as it did to me?!) And especially for the incredible suggestions for the ending. Even if I'd been halfway conscious at 1:00 in the morning, I never would have come close to thinking of that myself. BTW: The cream cheese muffin that Mulder devoured does exist and it's the best muffin you'll ever have that's hopefully no good for you. It's my favorite, so that's why I used it. Hungry now? Special Disclaimer: The song "I'm Too Sexy" is by Right Said Fred and was used without permission but with a whole lot of hopping and dancing around. I didn't want to put this in the regular disclaimer, because I didn't want to spoil the surprise. FEEDBACK: Hell yeah! Yes please? You bet! Sock it to me! Oops, I just dated myself. Tell me what you thought, and I'll see what I can do about getting a private dance from The Fox. SSHH! It's just between you and me. Don't tell anyone else. Feedback: mimic1172@gmail.com