Title: Highland Fling
Author: banlu
Date written: July 2000, revised June 2002
Rating: PG-13.
Category: S/H
Spoilers: None - imagine your own favorite version of
M & S. Can even mix-and-match!
Keywords: Mulder/Scully
Summary: A kilt-fic.
Comments: Originally written for the July 2000
Sleeping Bags 500-Words-Or-Less Kilt-Fic contest,
which was canceled before I could submit this. (Psst.
It's longer than 500 words now)
Disclaimer: I own the TV, but not what's shown on it.
Thanks: To mimic117 for taking the time for a fanfic
virgin (though I've been doing it in my head for
years and years and... oh let's just face it, I'm
almost out of that 18 to 48 demographic age range
which advertisers care about). Or maybe ya'll should
be blaming her for unleashing me onto the fanfic
world.
Author's notes: At end.
xxxxx
Highland Fling
By banlu
Mulder was not happy.
Mulder was annoyed.
Mulder was uncomfortable.
He was sitting in a comfortable chair, yet he
couldn't get comfortable. He sat almost sideways in
the chair, legs tightly crossed. He kept re-crossing
them, each time carefully keeping his knees together
so that no one could look up his kilt. He checked
his watch, then surveyed the crowd as it milled
around the food and crafts booths.
He bolted upright when he saw at last the top of a
familiar red head making its way toward him.
Then he heard giggling...
... and saw two teen-age girls slumping low in their
chairs, angling their necks for a better view. Mulder
realized he had spread his legs wide open and red-
facedly snapped his knees together just as Scully
reached him.
She raised an eyebrow, but before she could speak he
pointed a finger at her.
"This is all your fault, Scully. I really didn't have
to wear this to 'blend in'."
"True, but you're the one who decided to dress
'authentic'."
Mulder pouted.
Scully ignored him.
"Well, no sign of MacGregor at the caber toss. Have
you seen him?"
"No." he grumbled.
"Ok then, let's get lunch."
Mulder sighed and stood. Glancing around, he spotted
MacGregor.
"Scully!" he pointed and began moving toward their
suspect.
MacGregor saw them and started running.
Mulder sprinted after him. "Shhh..." he hissed as he
realized another consequence of dressing
'authentically'. Things were a lot freer under the
kilt than he was accustomed to. He concentrated on
the on the fleeing man.
The crowd scattered before the chase.
MacGregor dodged behind the booths in an effort to
lose Mulder. He stumbled over an extension cord,
which slowed him enough to let Mulder catch up and
tackle him.
They struggled, legs and arms flailing as they rolled
a few times, until Mulder finally pinned the other
man.
"Hurry, Scully." he huffed, straining to hold the
suspect's arms still.
After a couple of tries, Scully managed to snap her
handcuffs on MacGregor's squirming wrists. Then she
saw that during the tussle, Mulder's kilt had ridden
up past his waist. "Oh, Mulder," she whispered as
she reached over to drag the kilt down to cover his
bare bottom.
"Wha...?" he started as her hand grazed along the
soft skin of his rump while Scully pulled the heavy
material back into place.
She unconsciously patted Mulder's now covered
backside.
Then she heard giggling...
... and saw at the front of the crowd the same ogling
teen-agers from before.
Mulder glared at the girls as he hauled MacGregor to
his feet. "C'mon Scully."
xxxxx
The restaurant was far enough from the Highland Games
for the kilt to bring stares and whispers as Mulder
and Scully were ushered to a back booth.
After slipping into the booth, Mulder sprawled and
sighed. "Finally I can sit like a man."
Scully raised her eyebrow at him.
"What?" he asked.
"Nothing."
"C'mon, Scully. What gives?"
"This." she said as her foot touched his.
Mulder jumped.
"Scully!..."
Then he froze as Scully's shoeless foot slid
smoooooothly up his bare leg.
"Scully...."
His eyes widened as her foot slipped slooooooowly
along his inner thigh.
"Scull....."
Mulder gasped as her toes found his crotch.
"Scul......"
She moved her foot in small strokes, up and down,
uuuuuuuup and doooooooown...
"Scu......."
"Are you enjoying this, Mulderrrrrrrr?" she breathed.
He gripped the table for dear life as he slid
bonelessly down into the booth.
"Sc........"
"Because I certainly am."
Her foot began to rub liiiiiittle ciiiircles.
"S........."
Mulder's head lolled back against the booth.
".........."
Then they heard giggling...
end
Author's Notes: As I stated above, this is my first
serious attempt at writing down a fanfic. I did
submit a haiku to the Red Speedo Page in 1999, but
for some reason they added some "the's" to it. Below
is the correct version:
Rising from the pool
Taught stomach, sinewy thighs
Speedo in-between
Feedback: banlutoo@yahoo.com
The conceited part of me wants the praise, the humble
part doesn't, and the insecure part fears the
criticism. What kind of answer you'll get depends on
which part of me reads it. So send at your own risk.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Title: Highland Games - The Sequel to Highland Fling
Author: banlu
Date written: June 2002
Rating: PG-13
Category: S/H
Spoilers: None - imagine your own favorite version
of M & S. Can even mix-and-match!
Keywords: Mulder/Scully
Summary: A kilt-fic, redux.
Archive: Ephemeral and Gossamer. Anyone else,
please ask. I like to know it's gone to a nice home.
Comments: This story picks up where "Highland Fling"
left off. You MUST read that one first to understand
this one.
Disclaimer: I own the TV, but not what's shown on
it.
Thanks: To everyone who liked "Highland Fling"
enough to make me want to write the sequel.
Dedication: To mimic the midwife, beta
extraordinaire
Author's notes: At end.
xxxxx
Highland Games -The Sequel to Highland Fling
by banlu
Scully followed Mulder as he stalked out of the
restaurant. She didn't know which embarrassed her
more - what she had been doing or the fact that she
had been caught at it.
And it had to be by those girls.
She kept her eyes lowered as she walked behind him,
glancing up only to keep from bumping into anything.
What kept catching her eye, though, was Mulder's
plaid-covered backside.
She kept picturing the uncovered view she had of it
from that morning. Scully could still feel the
softness of Mulder's skin beneath her knuckles as
she'd covered him back up. If that had not happened,
she never would have done what she did in the booth.
What had come over her?
The reaction Mulder's kilt had received on the way in
was nothing compared to the one they were
experiencing on the way out. Scully heard the
laughter hidden behind hands, saw the stares as
people followed the kilt as it passed by, felt her
face growing redder by the second. She cursed to
herself at how easily her fair skin blushed.
Outside, Mulder hurried to the car. Scully could
tell by the set of his shoulders that he was angry.
He yanked at the door and when it didn't open held
his hand out behind him, waggling his fingers. She
sighed, fished the keys out of her pocket and placed
them in his palm.
"Mulder..."
"Not now Scully."
They got in the car and Mulder sped out of the
parking lot, tires screeching. They drove in
silence, avoiding each others eyes, all the way to
their motel.
xxxxx
The parking spots directly in front of their motel
rooms were blocked by a side-ways parked landscaper's
truck and trailer. Mulder was forced to pull into a
space across the lot. He braked so hard the car was
still rocking when he got out.
He strode quickly across the asphalt, forcing Scully
to trot to catch up. She grabbed his arm. "Mulder."
He shrugged her off. "Not now Scully."
She caught his arm again and tugged. "Yes, now,
Mulder."
He stopped and turned. "Scully...."
The put-put-put of a leaf blower starting up
interrupted Mulder's reply. After it settled into a
steady drone, he continued. "Scully, why this sudden
desire to air out your dirty underwear in public?"
Scully snorted. "That's great coming from someone
who isn't wearing any."
He glared at her. "I'd rather wait and talk about it
in private."
"Mulder, if we don't talk now, we never will."
"Fine."
They stood there, each waiting for the other to
start. The only sound was the leaf blower humming in
the distance.
Finally, Scully spoke up. "Mulder, I... I'm...
sorry for what I did."
"I don't think you are."
"Why do you say that?" she asked, indignant.
"I think you're only sorry you got caught."
She didn't have a reply.
The din of the blower increased, forcing them to
raise their voices.
"What were you doing, Scully?" Mulder flailed his
arms in frustration. "I'd never expected you to...
to..."
"Feel you up?" Scully offered.
"Scully!"
"Aren't you always saying I turn you on? That I'm
hot? Well, Mulder can't I feel the same way about
you?" Her embarrassment made her defensive.
"Yeah, but... but... I never touched you!"
"Why haven't you?"
"Because then your foot would have been in my crotch
for a very different reason."
"Are you saying I'd resist your advances?"
"You've never led me to believe otherwise."
Scully crossed her arms and took a step back,
considering Mulder's words. She hated to admit it,
but he was probably right. If he had tried to play
footsie with her, he'd have been singing falsetto for
a week.
She stepped closer to him so she could talk over the
incessant noise. "You enjoyed what I was doing?"
"Wasn't it obvious? I just can't understand why you
decided to do it in the restaurant."
"Mulder, when I... I ..."
It was his turn to step back. Scully tried to read
his body language. His hands were on his hips, body
squared towards her, challenging her, yet his face
had gone blank. Oh God, his panic face! He was
bluffing.
The whine of the leaf blower made them lean closer
together so they could hear each other.
"C'mon, Scully, tell me why you did that."
"After I found out this morning that you really were
naked under your kilt, I couldn't keep that thought
out of my head. So when you sat in that booth and
sprawled..."
"You took advantage of me."
"No I didn't." She whined almost as loud as the leaf
blower.
"Yes you did, Scully." A self-satisfied smile
appeared on his lips.
She saw he thought he had her. Well, she wasn't
about to let him win, so she changed her tactics.
"Mulderrrr." she breathed in the same voice she had
used when they had been sitting in the booth.
Mulder's face again went blank. It was Scully's turn
to smile, only hers was accompanied by an evil glint.
She sidled up to him, their bodies almost touching.
She had to tilt her head back to look him in the
eyes.
"Scully..."
She slooooowly licked her lips.
"Scull...."
The approaching leaf blower almost drowned out his
voice.
Scully let her eyes move leisurely doooown then back
uuuuup Mulder's body.
"Scul....."
He shifted his weight away from her. She let her
body follow.
"Scu......"
Scully could only see Mulder's luscious lips mouth
her name since the leaf blower was now only a few
feet away.
She put her hands on his hips.
"Sc........"
Then she pushed.
"S........"
Mulder stumbled back a few steps.
"........."
Whoosh!
Mulder's mouth gaped open and his eyes widened in
surprise, but Scully never saw that, for her own were
locked on the most wondrous sight.
A blast of air from the leaf blower had puffed the
kilt up, up, up until the front side of Mulder was as
exposed as his backside had been that morning. What
she saw made her toes tingle in remembrance.
The billowing fabric alternately revealed and hid,
revealed and hid, that part of Mulder which made him
a man.
They all stood frozen in shock for a moment, Scully,
Mulder and the landscaper. Then Mulder clamped the
kilt down tight against his body, the landscaper
turned off the blower, and Scully sighed in
disappointment.
Then they heard giggling...
end
````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````
Title: The Kilt Series III - Caber Toss
- The Sequel to Highland
Fling
Author: banlu
Date written: August 2002
Rating: PG-13
Category: S/H
Spoilers: None - imagine your own favorite version of
M & S. Can even mix-and-match!
Keywords: Mulder/Scully
Summary: A kilt fic III
Archive: Ephemeral and Gossamer. Anyone else, please ask.
I like to know it's gone to a nice home.
Comments: This has mutated into a series. Though each
story is complete unto itself, they MUST be read them in
the order written so the references can be understood.
The Kilt Series
Highland Fling
Highland Games - The Sequel to Highland
Fling
Caber Toss - The Sequel to Highland
Games
Disclaimer: I own the TV, but not what's shown on it.
Thanks: To everyone who liked "Highland Fling" enough to
make me want to write the sequels.
Dedication: mimic117 - there's no one beta! *g*
Author's notes: At end.
Caber Toss - The Sequel to Highland Games
by banlu
Mulder yanked at the handle to his motel room, but the door
didn't budge. He wished he could kick it in so he could
escape the humiliation he had just experienced. He started
to slap at his pockets, searching for his keys, but
remembered the kilt had none. Mulder had tried putting the
keys in the sporran, but he'd felt so silly rooting around
in that purse-thingy hanging over his crotch, he'd asked
Scully to carry them. Problem was, he wasn't speaking to
her right now. He yanked the handle once again. Then he
heard the jangle of keys.
He turned around and shot a glare at Scully as he grabbed
them from her hand. Then he opened the door and stomped
inside. The slam of the hollow-core door didn't satisfy
him, so he tipped a chair. Still seething, he began to
stalk back and forth across the room.
"How could you do that to me, Scully!" he growled to
himself. "It wasn't funny! You should have given those
girls hell!" He stopped at the thought of the two giggling
teen-age girls who seemed to be shadowing him all day. And
all because of this damn kilt, he thought as he looked down
at the offending garment. He tore it off, thankful it
wasn't one of those with about a hundred yards of
broadcloth where you had to lie down on the floor and roll
into like a mummy. This one was more like a skirt, but
still was made of scratchy, itchy wool.
He threw it on the floor in his frustration, then looked up
and saw himself in the mirror. He still had on a black
mock turtle-neck with the sleeves pushed up, and his boots,
but from the top of his socks to the hem of his shirt just
below his navel, he was naked. He looked at his reflection
and sighed. Today his private parts had gone public, on
display for the whole world to see.
His anger subsided and he was left with his embarrassment.
Hah! he thought, the perfect description. Him-bare-assed.
He sprawled on the bed with a groan, then threw an arm over
his eyes. With the other hand, he reached down and gave
himself a good scratch. And he had thought that not being
able to scratch his itches in public would be his biggest
problem today. He sighed again.
His mind wandered back to the start of it all. He could
remember the feel of Scully's knuckles brushing along his
bare skin and the little thrill he had felt. And, oh God,
the biiiiig thrill she'd given him when she touched him
with her foot. His hand slipped down to his inner thigh
and lightly traced the path her toes had taken. He noticed
how his skin got softer as his hand moved up his thigh.
Had she noticed the difference? He wondered if Scully's
skin was this soft, hoped it was even softer. Mulder
realized his body was responding to his thoughts when he
felt a twitch in his... caber, he thought wryly.
He took a deep breath and moved his hand to the next place
Scully's foot had been. He tried to duplicate her actions,
moving his hand up and down in small strokes, uuuuuuuup and
doooooooown...
"Scully," he breathed as he remembered the feel of her foot
on him, the way her toes had toyed with him.
What had she done next? Oh yeah, she'd rubbed in little
circles. He lost himself to the memory.
"Scully," he whispered as he moved his hand in those same
liiiiiittle ciiiircles.
He tried to imagine what Scully would have done next if
those girls hadn't interrupted. He experimented, picturing
her toes in place of his fingers.
"Scully," he called again and again as he fantasized about
her strong little toes rubbing him, fondling him, moving
closer and closer to his...
Then suddenly they were no longer in that booth, but here
on the bed, and he could feel her body against his...
"Scully!" he cried.
The connecting door opened with a bang as Scully charged
through. "Mulder! Are you alrig..." she started, but
never finished because she tripped on the kilt. She
"oofed" as her stomach caught the end of the bed and her
knees hit the floor.
Mulder grabbed the bedspread as he sat up and hauled it
over his lap. "What the hell are you doing in here?" he
barked.
"You called for me," she said, rubbing her stomach.
Mulder's face turned red and he ducked his head. "Oh."
Scully didn't catch Mulder's blush because her eyes had
been drawn to his bare legs. She tilted her head so she
could see where the spread didn't reach, and saw nothing
but skin from his knees to his hips. She turned to look
for what she had tripped on and saw the kilt. Well, you
didn't need FBI training to realize Mulder was half-naked,
she thought. And it was the good half, she noted with a
smile.
Mulder misinterpreted it. "This isn't funny, Scully. None
of it's been funny."
"I really am sorry Mulder."
"I told you, I only think you're sorry you got caught."
His anger had returned. Mulder pulled more of the spread
over him. "Get out of here. I want to be alone."
Scully saw there was no arguing with him. She got to her
feet and rubbed a knee while walking to the connecting
door. "Mulder, I still think we need to talk about
everything that's happened today," she said. "Just let me
know when you're ready."
Mulder didn't answer.
She glared at him before pulling the door tight behind her.
Mulder flopped back and stared at the ceiling, chastising
himself for allowing his imagination to run free.
xxxxx
Scully sat down on the edge of her bed and crossed her
arms. She was mad at Mulder for being mad at her. It
wasn't like she'd been the one laughing at him. Okay,
maybe she did snicker a bit when she had first seen him in
the kilt that morning, but not even a chuckle had escaped
her lips after the entire crowd at the Highland Games had
seen what he wasn't wearing under it. She sighed, leaned
back on her hands and kicked off her shoes.
She looked at her toes. They didn't really look like hers,
she mused. Maybe that's what happened. Her feet had been
possessed by some wanton spirit, and that's why her toes
had found their way to Mulder's crotch. She flopped back
on the bed. Face it, she thought, you're the wanton one.
Yes, she was a wanton woman.
Her stomach growled.
Wan... ton.
Wonton.
Chinese food.
She checked her watch. It was well past two and they'd
never gotten a chance to order, let alone eat, at the
restaurant. Putting her shoes back on, she covered her
traitorous toes and headed for the Wendy's across the
street. She would order a salad, she decided, even though
she was tempted by the idea of Biggie Fries. She'd already
given in to one temptation today and resolved not to make
it two.
And to keep her shoes on.
xxxxx
Mulder was still on the bed, still only half-dressed. He
had taken off his boots when he'd gotten up to pee, but
otherwise had not moved in the nearly three hours since
he'd kicked Scully out of his room. His skin was still
irritated from the wool of the kilt, and it felt good to
have nothing on. Whatever had possessed him to 'dress
authentic'? he wondered. He always wore shirts under his
wool sweaters, so why hadn't he put on some shorts? Then
his butt wouldn't be itchy.
He scratched it while changing channels. He'd spent the
afternoon with the TV, looking for mindless distraction of
the 'G' rated kind. He'd even watched part of a "Matlock"
episode before clicking over to "Walker, Texas Ranger" only
to find the same black guy on both shows. He by-passed
"Jerry Springer" and stopped at "Montel Williams". He
looked at the clock. Half-past five. It was going to be
a
long night.
xxxxx
Scully had listened to the low drone of Mulder's TV all
afternoon. She'd tried to work, but that just reminded her
of why Mulder was mad at her. She tried reading, but
couldn't concentrate on her medical journal and didn't want
to chance the novel she'd brought. So she'd resorted to
the TV, flipping channels a la Mulder, noticing that the
same black guy was on "Matlock" and "Walker, Texas Ranger".
She had just finished watching "Tropical Update" on The
Weather Channel for the third time, when her stomach
grumbled.
Since the bigger grilled chicken salads had looked like too
much, Scully had only eaten a small salad for lunch. But
she could go for one now. She looked at the clock. Half-
past five. She knew Mulder hadn't eaten, so maybe she
could use some Biggie Fries as a peace offering. She
headed back to the Wendy's.
Ten minutes later, Scully was knocking on Mulder's
connecting door. He didn't answer. She knocked again.
"Go away, Scully."
"I've got food, Mulder. A Wendy's double and Biggie
Fries." She cracked open the door and waved the open bag.
She sometimes thought fast food was Mulder's favorite
perfume. When she didn't get another 'go away', Scully
peeked into the room. Mulder was sitting on the bed, with
the spread bunched in his lap. Oh God, she thought, he
hasn't put on his pants?
Mulder was eyeing the Wendy's bag.
"Truce?" Scully offered.
Mulder nodded and turned off the TV. "Truce."
Scully put their drinks down on the nightstand and sat on
the other bed. She stole a couple of Mulder's fries before
handing them to him and then passed him his burger before
pulling out her salad.
Mulder tore into his food. "Thanks," he mumbled.
"You're welcome."
He was through in a couple of minutes. Crumpling up the
trash, he shot it at the wastebasket - and missed. "Not my
day," he sighed. He idly scratched a hip. Then he
scratched the other one.
Scully noticed. "What's wrong?"
Mulder shrugged. "Wool makes me itchy. That's another
reason I should've worn something under the kilt."
"Do you want me to look at it?"
They both froze. Mulder narrowed his eyes.
"What 'it' are you referring to, Scully."
She blushed. "I meant where it itches."
"It itches everywhere that was covered by the kilt,
Scully."
"Everywhere?" she squeaked.
Mulder gave her an evil grin. "Yes, Scully, everywhere."
"Well... ah... all the more reason for me to check you
out... I mean, you have to be extra-careful with such
sensitive skin..."
"Check me out?"
"Ummm... look you over."
"Why don't you just give me a hand?" He waggled his brows
at her.
So this is how it's going to be, Scully realized. "I have
some hydrocortisone cream. I could apply it to the areas
you can't easily reach."
Mulder lay back against the pillows, hands behind his head.
"That would be nice."
"I'll be right back." She dashed into her room and grabbed
the tube.
And kicked off her shoes.
She stopped short when she came back into Mulder's room.
He had tossed the spread back and was now sprawled casually
in the middle of the bed.
And he was half-naked.
And it was the good half.
He looked at her coyly. "You said you wanted to see it."
Scully let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been
holding. "Yes, Mulder, I can see it."
And she could. Other than the brief glimpses from his
encounter with the leaf blower earlier that afternoon, she
had only seen it before under unkind circumstances, like
when he'd been sick. But now, when he was healthy... oh
God, did he just get healthier?
Mulder motioned with his head. "Get over here, Scully."
She got.
She sat on the bed next to his knees, facing him. It took
all the discipline she had, but she looked Mulder in the
eye. She could see an amused twinkle as he said, "So, Dr.
Scully, what's your professional opinion?"
Scully held his stare for a moment before she shifted her
gaze to the area in question. She studied it for a full
minute, sweeping her eyes back and forth and up and down.
She could hear Mulder's breathing quicken as he got even
healthier. She looked back up and found the amusement
replaced by anticipation.
"I believe my original recommendation was correct. An
application of hydrocortisone cream would relieve the...
symptoms."
Mulder sucked in a quick breath and then exhaled slowly.
His hands were still behind his head. "You know Scully, in
this position I can't reach anything."
She smiled. "Then I guess I'll just have to do it for
you."
"Cream me, Scully."
Scully squeezed a dollop of the cream onto her fingers.
She rested the other hand on his thigh. "Is this where it
itches?"
"No, it's more towards the inside."
She slipped her hand inwards. "Here?"
"No, up a bit more."
She moved her hand again.
"How about here?"
"Yes, Scully, right there," he panted. "Start right
there."
Scully changed hands and slooooooowly slipped her cream-
coated fingers up his inner thigh, her eyes following. His
skin was softer than she remembered. She stroked her hand
back and forth a few times, indulging in the feel of it.
"Scully..." Mulder moaned.
She glanced up and saw a big grin crease his face.
"Tell me, Scully. Did you get any tips today on tossing
the caber?"
"Why yes, Mulder, I did. You make sure you have a firm
grip on the bottom of the pole..." He sucked in his breath
as her hand tightened. "... and then you toss it end over
end."
"You mean like this?" Mulder grabbed Scully around the
waist, pulled her to his chest and rolled her until his end
was over hers.
She laughed. "Close enough."
They held each other's eyes, their faces just inches apart.
Scully's breathing became as rapid as Mulder's.
She licked her lips.
He kissed her.
It was a deep kiss, soulful and unhurried. Mulder moved
his elbows to shift into a more comfortable position.
One elbow hit the remote control and the TV blared into
life.
Mulder and Scully broke their kiss with a start, and looked
at the TV in time to see a news reporter say "...excitement
at the Highland Games. The suspect was apprehended by an
undercover, or should I say, uncovered FBI agent, as you
can see in this home video of the arrest."
There, on the screen, for all the world to see, was
Mulder's bare behind. It had been digitally disguised for
viewing by the general audience, but there was no mistaking
what was exposed under those little squares.
Scully and Mulder gawked at each other while the reporter
droned on, "... and we have witnesses to the whole event.
Can you tell us what you saw?"
And then they heard giggling.
end
Author's notes: Author's notes: For you Scots - I looked
up info on kilts before I wrote this story (I didn't feel
the need with the previous two). It was only after I'd
finished and was looking for the word "sporran" (since I'd
forgotten what that "little purse-thingy" was called) did I
find out that some kilts come with liners. But that
wouldn't have been as much fun, would it? Also, Mulder was
dressed casually, so no hose or garter flashes for him.
Just work boots and socks.
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The conceited part of me wants it, the humble part doesn't,
and the insecure part fears it. What kind of answer you'll
get depends on which part of me reads it. So send at your
own risk.