By Char Chaffin
char@chaffin.com
 

Rating:  R
Category:  MSR, married with kid, humor

DEDICATION:  Valentine's Day fic - with Red Speedos - for all you
lovers!

Thanks to:  Tess, for beta, thumbs up, general enthusiasm and
much cheerleading!

Summary:  Valentine's Day... Gotta love it!
 

"I've Got a Heart-On for You"
 

All day long I've been whistling, tapping my foot - twiddling
pencils and flipping papers.  Guess you could say I'm a little
impatient for work to be over.  I force myself not to stare at my
watch - I turn my face away from the clock on the wall.

Then I steal a peek anyhow - and groan aloud.  It's only eleven
o'clock.  I've got six hours before I can leave.

Well, hell.

There's a surprise waiting for me at home, you see.  I don't know
all the specifics, but I only care that this surprise centers around
Valentine's Day, my lover, and hopefully, chocolate.  Truly, what
more could anyone ask for?

In a way, I'm glad I was the one who got stuck working today.  It
could so easily have been me, staying home with William.  Of course,
I wouldn't have minded a bit.  I adore any second of time I get to
spend with my son.  He's teething heavily now, which makes for some
cranky nights - but I don't mind walking the floor with him, not at
all.  When I think of the chances that I'd never get to hold him,
much less nurture him - or soothe his teething aches... I don't mind
those sleepless nights a bit.

I unsuccessfully resist the urge to peek at the clock.

Eleven-forty.

Shit and damnation.  This day is going to last forever.

It's my own fault.  I volunteered to stay in the office when I could
have been the one home.  With Willy so miserable today - and running
a slight fever from his sore gums - one of us had to be home.  But if
I'd stayed, I'd be missing out on some of the evening's festivities -
for there's no way my partner could plan a romantic Valentine's Day
evening at work, with all the ingredients for that evening at home
and obviously not accessible.  At least that's what I am assuming -
and granted, I am assuming a hell of a lot...

Twelve-thirteen.  Damn long, dragging day...

I tried to pry forth information this morning.  I'd put on my best
sad-face... I was pathetic, I really was.  And not a morsel of
budging, for all of my efforts -

"Come on.  I'd tell you -"

"Yeah, right.  Famous last words, I'm sure.  It's none of your
business, Partner.  Here, go change Willy."

I got a screeching boy thrust at me.  Muttering under my breath, I'd
lugged our son to the nursery and cleaned up one hell of a mess of
last night's carrots and peas.  William gnawed on his fist and
squirmed around, a lot - enough to smear the nasty concoction
everywhere.  By the time I got that second mess cleaned up, I was
running late - and I had still not cracked the code, so to speak -
still didn't know 'The Plan.'

I had turned one final time, as I walked out the door; one last
attempt to find out - as I'd kissed Will's little cheek and then
pressed a scorching open-mouthed kiss onto his father's tongue, I'd
murmured enticingly, "Mulder... tell me what you're planning..."

His only response was to nip at my bottom lip once, and toss me out
the door with a firm hand and equally firm reply.

"No way, Scully - now go to work."

********

One-ten.  I drain the last dregs of a warm Coke, and toy with my
laptop mouse.  On the monitor is an elaborate spreadsheet, created by
Kimberly in a sweet-but-misguided attempt to assist us with our
yearly audit.  Wisely, she handed me the file on diskette and after a
few instructions on how to use it, made herself scarce - no doubt
terrified that I'd persuade her to sit down in the basement and give
me a tutorial.

The spreadsheet will be a lot of help to us once I begin plugging in
numbers and adjusting some of the formulas.  I haven't done it, yet.
Truthfully I haven't done a blessed thing, yet.  Well, that's not
entirely true.   I checked my email.  Sent a note to Bill and Tara.
Spoke to my mother on the phone.  Actually, I sort of grilled Mom, on
the phone... I figured she may know what her son-in-law was up to -

"Mom, what's on the agenda tonight?"  So innocent the question.  I
was hoping the innocuous query would trip her up - maybe she'd let it
slip.

"Dana, I'm not telling you what Fox has planned.  Even if I knew I
wouldn't tell you.  I swear you never change - even as a child you
couldn't stand not knowing a surprise."

The note of reprimand in her voice was tempered with enough
affection that I smiled into the mouthpiece.  I knew Mom most likely
had not been apprised of Mulder's plans, other than possibly when to
expect William and his enormous diaper bag - but it never hurt to
ask...

"What about Will, Mom?"

I could almost hear the grin in her voice when she replied.  "What
about him?  Nice boy.  A little small for his age.  Loves his pureed
carrots."

I sent a long-suffering sigh into the phone.  "I meant, what about
William and tonight, Mom - are you taking him?"

My mother can be infuriatingly vague when it serves her purpose.
"Gee, I don't know, Dear.  Why don't you ask Fox?"

Grumble...

Three minutes later, I gave up.  I put down the phone and slumped
back in my chair, temporarily defeated.  And now I ask myself why I
just can't wait until tonight, to find out 'The Plan.'

Because I may be a Mulder, albeit a new one, by marriage - but I'm a
Scully, by blood.  I carry within me a long lineage of equally-
curious - no, downright nosy - Scullys who could never stand to be
left in the dark about things such as Christmas gifts, or birthday
parties -

Or Valentine's Day festivities.

This is really our first V-Day together as spouses - as well as
anything else, I suppose.  When we were partners and friends we never
celebrated the day.  We skirted around it in a complicated ballet of
vague non-acknowledgment.  To give voice to such a romantic holiday
would be to get into cards, possibly chocolate hearts - and yes,
those things can be shared by friends but Mulder and I walked such a
thin line, for so long. We never bought cards or candy; we never
acknowledged.

Little wonder my Scully curiosity is out of control on this so-
romantic day.

After Mulder and I at last "got together," so to speak - and "became
a couple" - a whole new world of holidays opened up for us.
Especially with a child, each one has new meaning.  Each day promises
to be so blessedly normal.  Thanksgiving was like that.  So was
Christmas and New Years' - even Martin Luther King's birthday felt
different...

Is it five o'clock yet?

*******

Much later in the evening I am going to chastise myself severely for
speeding home the way I did.  I'll probably yell at myself for giving
Skinner some truly hokey reason why I had to leave work early.  I saw
the look in those be-spectacled eyes of his - I knew he wasn't buying
it.  Hell, I can't even remember what I said to him.

And I could have cared less.  I'm in my car and I'm driving fast -
I'm almost home.  For us, that's my apartment for the moment, crammed
full of Fox-and-Willy Mulder stuff, far more than even I have.  We're
on the search for a bigger place, maybe a house.  Maybe even in Mom's
neck of the woods, although we haven't told her, yet.

I screech to a halt in my usual parking spot and almost leap from
the car.  I am resisting the urge to run in my very impractical four-
inch heels.  I had actually tried calling Mulder from the car, as if
by doing so he'd magically give up V-Day info - I got a recording,
for my troubles.  A very Mulderish recording...

'This is the Mulder residence.  Currently, no one is available to
take your call.  If you care to leave a message your call will be
returned - and if this is Scully, it's none of your business what I'm
doing.  You'll find out when you get home - which, knowing you -
should be on the early side.  Have a nice day...'  **BEEP**

I muttered a curse and disconnected.  Damn him -

Now I am walking very fast down the hallway to our apartment.  As I
walk I can feel the plastic bag I carry banging against my leg.  My
Valentine loot for Mulder - I had a hard time thinking of something
appropriately romantic.

Let's face it - I am not a romantic.  Truly, I never had a chance to
be anything other than first a serious student, then a sober agent,
pathologist and partner, in that order.  Rusty doesn't even begin to
describe my romantic meter.  But Mulder changed all of that. Mulder
gave me passion.  Mulder taught me romance.

Hell, Mulder IS Romance, when he wants to be.  He can sweep me off
my feet with nothing more than two blazing hazel orbs, focused so
fiercely on me it's a miracle I don't dissolve in his arms...

Actually, I do.  And I just know that beyond anything else this
evening has in store for me, tonight I am going to liquefy and
dissolve.

At last, the door.  I fumble with my briefcase, my keys, my
trenchcoat and a plastic bag filled with cards, a bottle of
strawberry champagne, a huge heart-shaped box of truffles - and a
pair of flame-red silk boxers.  I just couldn't resist.  I figure
I'll get Mulder drunk, high on the sugar and caffeine rush of the
candy, slip him out of the silk boxers and then have my way with him.

Oh, yeah.

I finally manage to unlock the door and I step inside - to almost
complete darkness.  There is a smell of Italian cuisine in the air,
something garlic-infested and spicy - and a single candle is
flickering on my hall table.  Next to the candle is a small bag,
looks red - attached to the bag is a piece of paper.  I pluck it off
and struggle with the thin candlelight, to read the words written
there -

'Put me on...'

Okay, somebody wants to play, I see.  I open the bag and dig through
silver tissue, to uncover a pale pink teddy with push-up cups, edged
in black lace.  It's lovely and sheer and slutty as all-get-out...
and I can't wait to put it on, as per my instructions.  So I rip off
my clothes in record time, slip into the teddy; as I ease the straps
over my shoulders I feel the crinkle of another piece of paper,
inside one of the push-up cups.  In surprise, I reach in and pull out
a smaller note -

'Leave the heels on...'

Oh, my.

Heels clacking on the hall floor, then muffled on carpet, I bypass
the dark, fragrant kitchen and make a beeline for the bedroom.  As I
get closer I can see a glow from within.  More candles -

This is getting interesting.

Slowly I approach the open door; slowly I walk through... and I stop
in my four-inch-heeled tracks at the sight that awaits me.

Oh, God...

Against what appears to be red satin sheets, a man reposes.  Tanned.
Muscled yet lean.  Elegantly fashioned.  In one hand he holds a wine
glass; in the other, a chocolate-dipped... strawberry?  Could be; I'm
suddenly not sure, for my dazzled gaze has dropped from his handsome
face and seductive hazel eyes and the bedroom smile...

To the only adornment on his body.  Are those... I peer at him, take
a step closer - and I gasp.

His red Speedos.  I haven't seen them in years.  I'd thought Mulder
had gotten rid of them, but here they are.

Boy, are they ever.

I am gawking but I don't care.  He looks positively edible.  I move
forward in a daze; neither of us has spoken, yet - and as I approach
the bed his eyes rake me, up and down - and he licks his lips.  And
smiles the most killer smile...

Then, as my weakened knees hit the side of the mattress, he holds
out the wine glass.  I take it and drain it in one gulp.  That killer
smile widens as he next offers me the strawberry, first taking a bite
from one side.  I lean into him and let him feed me the fruit; his
thumb rubs at my bottom lip as I take the morsel from his fingers...
and as I chew I just happen to look down.

Hey, I can't help it.  I'm a woman in love with Mr. Romance,
himself.  I want to check him out, all of him.  From the top of his
dark head to the soles of his feet - from shoulder to bicep, pectoral
to abdominal to -

Oh, my God.

My eyes lock on to his Speedos; specifically the front of them.  The
most interesting area, for sure - previously shielded from my viewing
pleasure by one bent leg.  Mulder helpfully enhances that same
viewing pleasure by tilting his hips and angling his pelvis...

He's erect.  Wonderfully, visually erect - underneath a cut-out
heart that rides dead-center over his bulge, the size of the cut-out
stretched nicely by the hard flesh beneath it.  And that delectable
flesh... Showcased to perfection, dark and satiny and enticing,
almost falling out of its Valentine window -

Jesus, is it hot in here?

My eyes feel huge in their sockets and I think I may be drooling.  I
am definitely whimpering, because Mulder's grin just gets wider -

Then a small shake of his hips, and my V-Day gift slips out of its
heart-shaped window and springs gently upward, pointing to the
ceiling.  When he clears his throat I manage to tear my gaze from
that tempting sight and my eyes lock with his when the rasp of his
honey-sandpaper voice washes over me.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Baby... have I got a Heart-On for you -"

Seconds later I fall into his arms, giggling like a teenager.  Only
Mulder could make me steamy-hot one moment and silly the next.  I lay
on sinfully soft red sheets in a pale pink teddy the likes of which
Frederick's of Hollywood probably refuses to sell.  My arms are full
of warm, hard Mulder and my mouth has been firmly engaged as well, by
slick lips and a seeking tongue.  The teddy slithers around on my
body as we playfully wrestle for dominance.  I curl my legs around
Mulder's hips, fighting for leverage.  Likewise he clamps his arms up
under my shoulderblades and keeps me on my side as he laughs into my
delighted face.  And it doesn't matter who wins out - makes no
difference who's on top.  Both places are the very best, both have
their advantages...

You see, when Mulder is on top I feel cherished, protected by that
smooth blanket of muscle and skin.  Warm all over in most places -
hot where he rests between my legs.  Hazel eyes overloaded with
desire and devotion gaze into mine; adoring lips swoop down to claim
me in a dozen special places.  Love covers me from head to toe and
it's wonderful, so wonderful when my husband is on top.

When it's my turn, though... Mmmmm.  There he is, spread out before
me - a feast for my famished senses.  Any man can lay on his back in
a bed.  Big whoop.  Mulder doesn't lay... he reclines.  Long,
muscular arms curve beneath his head, or hands grasp the bedsheets at
either side.  Legs splay invitingly in a show of well-defined calves
and large, graceful feet.  Narrow, sexy hips await me as I straddle
him, and a thick, hot and satiny erection seduces me to press down on
dark wiry hair that always arouses me with its delicious Mulder-musk.
My eyes drink him in, my hands can't stop wandering over the expanse
of heat and bone and flesh I now dominate - my mouth just has to kiss
whatever of him I can reach.

Sometimes I fall into a slumber when I'm on top, after the loving
has been especially sweet... sometimes I want nothing more than to be
compressed beneath Mulder's sated body, barely able to breathe yet
loving the crushing sensation of him.

Tonight I think I want it all, starting with the bottom.  But first -

I reach out a curious finger or two and slip it into Mulder's cut-
out heart, whispering, "Mulder, you carved up your Speedos for me...
I'm truly touched."

The smile on his face is broad and impish as he presses against my
hand, filling my palm.  A tender kiss to my nose, extra ones to each
eye and then a final kiss on my forehead as he whispers right back.

"So, you like my Heart-On, Wife of Mine?"

I nod and twine my free hand into his hair, pull down his head, lay
claim to those full lips so close to mine - send a purring reply
straight to his soul.

"Oh, I like, Husband - I definitely like.  I'd be happy to show you,
just how much..."

Valentine's Day.  Gotta love it.

End

I hope everyone has a wonderful Valentine's Day... I intend to!  <g>

Email me anytime:  char@chaffin.com

Come have a chunk of candy at my site:  http://char.chaffin.com