Title -Closet Musings
Author - Mary Parker
Email - paelitopen@yahoo.com
Webpage - http://www.geocities.com/paelitopen
Disclaimer - Scully and her closet and all the rest of
it belong to CC, Fox, 1013, etc. *sigh*
Distribution - If you want it, that's fine with me!
Notify me and keep my name/email on it.
A/N - Another Scully vignette. She will insist on
talking in my head lately...I think this is funny, but
I may be wrong. Feedback!  Slight spoilers for
Triangle, FTF, and a line from Alpha.  


MSXFMSXFMSXF 

I pull my robe around me and walk to the closet,
running my fingers through my damp hair as I open the
door. My clothes hang neatly, waiting for me like
soldiers waiting for their general. I run my fingers
over the fabrics fondly, tracing swooping necklines
and mentally measuring how much leg this or that skirt
would display. These are the tools of my trade,
precisely calibrated, and I use them well. 

It’s been a slow seduction, very slow. Day after day I
picked a shirt that would display my collarbone
instead of one that would bare my upper chest to the
top of my bra, though as a rule I prefer the latter. I
passed up the mid-thigh length skirt for a mid-calf
one. I could have kicked myself that first day when I
walked into the basement to face you, wearing that
cursedly hideous grey suit so I’d look intellectual. I
promptly went home and bought some lacy underwear. 

Oh, I knew what I wanted even then. And I knew I could
get you too. I was certain that someday that body,
with its obscenely long legs and very nice muscles,
and that face, with its unfairly pouty lips and
gloriously hazy hazel eyes, and that mind, with its
beautiful intuitive sharpness, would all be the
property of one Dana K. Scully. Mine to do as we
pleased with. 

But you didn’t know what to make of me then, so I had
to be very quiet about it. Behind every good man, and
every handsome one, is a strong and subtle woman who
knows exactly what she wants and exactly how to get
it. I was very careful. My necklines very gradually
got lower, and my skirts were almost imperceptibly
shorter. My heels got higher, my clothes fit better,
and I cut my hair. Each small change another strand in
my web, but I made sure you always felt in control of
the situation. You needed to feel like you had some
power or authority, so I feigned disinterest, and
rarely even showed partnerly affection. You’d set very
strong limits with your “I even made my parents call
me Mulder” thing, so I bent them slowly so that you
wouldn’t notice. And you never seemed to. Not once was
it me who made major shifts in our relationship. It
was you who called me “Dana,” you who began kissing my
hands and face, you who begged me not to leave. You
who said “I love you.” And oh, how it hurt to brush
that one off lightly. How I hated myself for panicking
that way. But somehow you knew I didn’t mean it, thank
God. 

It’s been a very long and dark six-going-on-seven
years, punctuated by occasional moments of brightness
and hope and love. I’m going to make sure today’s a
bright day. I choose a black skirt that falls just
above my knees, and to go under my black jacket, a
silky sage green tank top with a low, straight
neckline. I fluff my hair, touch up my makeup, and
wear a slightly brighter shade of lipstick, smoothing
some clear gloss over it. I step into my favorite
four-inch heels and dab on a bit of perfume, making
sure my bra straps are hidden and my cross is
straight. Today, hopefully, the subtle seduction is at
an end, giving way to overt declaration of the
attraction you hold for me.. Today I’m going to tell
you, and we’ll see what happens from there. 

Feminine wiles? I’ve got ‘em in spades. 

MSXFMSXFMSXF 

End note - Please tell me what you thought. Feedback
shall be carefully read and replied to.