************************
FRAMED
by Thalia D'Muse
<thalia@goodnet.com>
Completed: May 1997
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*Please archive.*

Summary: Scully helps Mulder through a corrective lens emergency.
Keywords: Mulder/Scully UST
Classification/Rating: SHR, PG-13
Spoilers: No spoilers, but pretend 'Never Again' never happened.
Warnings: May induce nausea in friendshippers.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Wish they were. Need I say more?

Author's Notes: Dedicated to my fellow LOMIG members. Our motto:
Say No To Contacts! Apologies to Lenscrafters, Sophia Loren, Drew
Carey and Ernest Borgnine for reasons that will become apparent
in the story. Thanks to Charli for always boosting my spirits and
catching my mistakes. Please firmly plant tongue in cheek before
continuing.

Feedback? Why not! Send it to <thalia@goodnet.com>.


FRAMED (1/2)
by Thalia D'Muse


Dana Scully's apartment
8:00pm

"...and it's shaping up to be a beautiful evening, folks. It's
Springtime and love is in the air. It's the perfect time..."

"...to be cleaning my apartment," Dana Scully muttered, clicking
off the radio. She shuffled across the living room carrying her
cleaning supplies: furniture polish, rags, trash bags and a
feather duster.

"So, Mr. Feather Duster," she asked, holding the duster to her
face, "what's our next order of business?"

"Well, Dana," she said in a Mickey Mouse voice while moving the
duster up and down, "now we're going to tackle your bedroom. It's
gonna be a rough one, especially since that bed of yours hasn't
seen any action since the Bush administration. I'm going to
predict that we'll find dustbunnies the size of large rats firmly
attached to the underside of the box spring."

Scully huffed and threw the duster to the floor. "It's official,"
she sighed. "I have no life. I could have been married by now,
had a family. But noooo, _I_ had to join the FBI. _I_ wanted more
excitement out of life."

Dropping herself into a nearby chair, she put her head in her
hands. "Excitement? Ha! It's Friday night and I'm talking to a
bunch of feathers tied to a stick! What the hell happened?"

She ran a hand through her auburn hair, loosening a few strands
from the short ponytail. "You know what happened, Dana," she told
herself. "Fox Mulder happened."

Scully picked up the feather duster again. "Gee, Dana, who's
that?" she squeaked as she bobbed the duster up and down.

She snorted at the feather duster. "Oh, you know, the reason I
have no life. The guy who expects me to run off at a moment's
notice to chase after lights in the sky. The guy who remembers
the obscure rituals of long-lost cultures but can't remember to
turn on the coffee maker in the morning. The guy who eats so many
sunflower seeds that he probably has shells in his underwear, not
that _I'll_ get to check that out anytime soon. The guy who has a
'Keep Off' sign stamped on his forehead..." She paused while
letting out a dramatic sigh.  "You know, the guy who's obsessed,
spooky and drop-dead gorgeous."

She slumped back in the chair. "Why couldn't he be obsessed,
spooky and look like Ernest Borgnine? It'd make my life a helluva
lot easier."

Scully jumped straight out of the chair when she heard the sharp
rapping at her door. Feather duster in hand, she walked to the
front door. "Who is it?"

"Steven Spielberg."

She rolled her eyes. *Oh, that's _so_ original, Mulder.* The guy
had an IQ in the stratosphere. You'd think he could come up with
a new line now and then.

She whipped open the door and was hardly able to stop a whimper
from escaping her lips. Standing there before her was not just
her partner, but her partner dressed in tight black jeans, a
forest green turtleneck and -- *hold onto your feather duster,
Dana* -- his reading glasses.

*Oh, I'm in trouble,* she thought grimly. *Brain to Engine Room,
prepare for battle. Shields up, deflectors ready.*

Mulder smirked, pointing to the duster in her hand. "Looks like
you have an eventful Friday night planned."

"Probably as eventful as yours," she said sweetly, batting her
eyelashes. She abruptly turned on her heel and walked into the
kitchen, leaving him in the doorway. "What do you want, Mulder?"
she yelled from the kitchen.

"I need your help," he yelled back.

*He wants something. I knew it.* She peeked her head out of the
kitchen and looked at him. "Again I ask: What do you want?"

"Can't you tell, Scully?" he asked softly, his arms spread out at
his sides, palms forward.

Scully slowly approached him, red flags waving in her head. *OK,
this must be a trick. Mulder's dressed in his 'I'm The Naughty
Professor, wanna spank me' clothes, topped off perfectly with
those little wire frames that always send a shiver right down to
my...*

She raised one reddish-brown eyebrow and walked closer until she
could feel his breath in her hair. Staring through the lenses
into his deep hazel eyes, she lifted a hand to his cheek. His
skin was smooth and supple beneath her fingertips. She tilted his
head slightly to the left, then...

"Mulder," she gasped, "you... you broke your glasses."

He backed away from her, pulling the frames -- sans one earpiece
-- from his face. "Always the crack investigator, Scully," he
quipped. Reaching into his jeans pocket, he retrieved the left
earpiece and shoved it in front of her face. "I sat on them."

Scully stifled a laugh, her mind conjuring up the delicious image
of him sitting down, then letting loose with a girlie scream as
he goosed himself with his own glasses.


"Well, I don't know what you want me to do," she said,
indifference sprinkled in her voice. "I can't fix them. Besides,
I _do_ have plans tonight, contrary to what you may think."

It was a lie, but a perfectly executed lie, in her opinion. Her
eyes held his, no fluctuation of tone in her voice. *Damn, I'm
good.*

"Oh, okay. I understand," he sighed, an infinitesimal quiver
starting on his lower lip.

*Oh, please don't do that, Mulder. Please, not that. Anything but
that. Please... oh damnit!* She stared at the forlorn eyes, the
pouty bottom lip. *Goddamn wounded puppy look. I _hate_ it when
he does that.*

"But I can cancel my plans if you need me that badly," she
finally conceded.


Mulder's face lit up. "Thanks, Scully. I really do need you. I
was thinking that since I have to get new glasses anyway, I might
try a different frame, maybe something like what Drew Carey has."

*NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!*

"Uh, new frames? But the old ones were so... you," she said in a
much calmer tone than she had expected.

"I don't know," he said, shrugging. "I think I'd like a change. I
want you to come with me to the mall and help me pick out some
new frames."

She forced herself not to let her jaw drop. *Hmmm, let's see what
I want to do. I can stay at home and play with the dustbunnies...
or I can spend the evening staring at Mulder in glasses. Sheer
mind-numbing boredom versus pleasantly masochistic torture.
Decisions, decisions.*

"Give me a few minutes to change clothes," she managed to get out
before jogging into her bedroom.


END OF PART 1

---------------------------------

FRAMED (2/2)
by Thalia D'Muse


The nearest Lenscrafters
8:30pm

Scully watched Mulder's face soften, his handsome features
consumed by a look of boyish awe as they entered the brightly-lit
Lenscrafters store. After all he had seen in his life, he was
fascinated by eyeglass frames.

"Wow, Scully," he said, looking from wall to wall, "I'm sure glad
you came with me. I'd never be able to choose from all of these."

*Tell me about it,* she mused silently. *God only knows what
you'd come to work with on Monday.*

She followed him to one of the wall displays. "Mulder, those are
womens frames. Mens frames are over here."

"I know, Scully. I just don't want to limit myself," he said,
coming to a stop under a neon sign blaring 'Sophia Loren
Collection'. He picked up a pair of garish pink plastic frames.
"Oooh, I like these. I think they're my color."

Scully walked up beside him and grabbed the frames from his hand.
"If you embarrass me, I will leave you here to make the decision
yourself."

He tried to pout, but it came across as a mischievous smirk. "You
take all of the fun out of shopping, Scully."

She shook her head while putting the pink frames back on the
shelf. When she turned to face him again, the sight before her
made her gasp. Mulder had managed to find the most obnoxious
frames in the store. Thick, black plastic with two rows of white
rhinestones covering the side panels; oval-shaped lenses of dark
purple fading into lavender. She wanted to laugh but knew better
than to encourage him.

"Mulder," she said impatiently, "get those off right now. You
look like a deranged Elvis."

His lopsided grin turned into an Elvis sneer. "Why, thank you.
Thank you very much," he said in a convincing impression of the
King.

Scully heard quick snorts of laughter and turned to see a woman
resembling a dark-haired Angela Lansbury walk up next to her. "Oh
sir, those are womens frames. Let me show you our mens section,"
she said, her voice thick with an accent that made Scully think
the woman had just been teleported from the movie 'Fargo'.

Mulder removed the frames and gave them to the woman. He turned
to Scully, his grin growing wider as he saw the 'try that again
and you'll die' look on her face. Scully grabbed her partner by
the shirt sleeve and pulled him behind her as she followed the
saleswoman to the opposite side of the store.

"My name is Mary. Now, how can I help you?"

Before Mulder could open his mouth, Scully took control. "Well,
Mary, my partner is looking for a new pair of glasses." She
nudged Mulder with her elbow and he produced the pathetic remains
of his old frames.

"Oh my, that's too bad," Mary remarked as she examined the frames
in his outstretched hand. "Sat on them, didn't you?"

Scully fought the giggles when she saw a pinkish tint flood his
face. *Thank you, God! It was worth the past five years of
mutants and aliens and shadowy government figures just for this
one moment. I've finally seen the ever-elusive Mulder Blush. I
can die happy now.*

While Mulder continued doing his best impression of a fish with
his mouth, Mary bustled around them, grabbing frames from various
parts of the wall. "Why don't you have a seat," she said on her
third pass. "I'll be there in just a minute."

The last customers had exited the store, leaving Mulder and
Scully as the sole patrons. Somehow that tidbit of information
comforted Scully. He seemed fairly adamant about wanted a change
in frames, but there was no way she was going to let that happen.

It could get ugly. Very ugly.

She had grown quite fond of those frames. The way they fit so
snugly around his temples, and the wonderful things that round
shape did for his face. The way the lenses slightly magnified his
beautiful hazel eyes, and how if the light shined on them just
right, he would get these evil 'shadow eyebrows' jetting up from
the bridge of the frames, making him look deliciously
dangerous...

Mary's return snapped Scully back to reality. "OK, sir, let's see
how these look on you." The saleswoman placed a pair of oval-
shaped gold frames on his face.

Mulder admired himself in the mirror. "These aren't too bad."

Scully winced at the what the ovals were doing to his features.
"No, don't like them. Not flattering at all. Next."

The second pair were a definite 'no' before they even hit his
face. Thin black plastic in that dreaded 'sixth-grade science
teacher' shape. His eyes lit up as he looked at Scully. She shook
her head at him and watched as his face went from elation to
dejection in a matter of seconds. He slumped in his seat and
handed them back to Mary.

Whoever coined the phrase 'The third one's the charm' was right.
The shape, size and style were similar to his old frames, but the
color of the metal was different. A _good_ different, though.
They complemented his coloring and hair, not to mention the
amazing things they were doing for Mulder's eyes.

Gold flecks, both dark and light, suddenly came to the surface in
his hazel depths, mixing with the green and brown to form a pool
of mesmerizing colors. Not that she had ever had a problem losing
herself in his eyes, but Scully found herself drowning and not
giving a damn about whether or not a lifeguard was nearby.

"The color," Scully said in a strained voice. "What is that
called?"

Mary nodded. "Oh, yes. It's a gorgeous one, isn't it?"

*What, the frames or the man?* Scully decided not to go there.

"It's called 'rose gold'," Mary continued. "Very popular color.
Though not everyone can wear it."

*I think you just found your poster boy.* Scully placed her hand
on Mulder's cheek, turning his head so she could get another
look. She traced the lines and curves of the frames, their
pinkish-copper color reflecting the light as he slowly tilted his
head for her inspection.

"What do you think, Scully?" His voice was disturbingly low and
rough.

"I think these are the ones," she replied, momentarily shocked at
her husky tone. She leaned closer to him and continued to trace
the earpieces, accidentally -- or not so accidentally -- letting
her fingers brush along his smooth skin.

"Well then," Mary squeaked.

Both agents' heads snapped back and Scully's hand jerked away
from her partner's face.

"I'll just get our people working on these right away," Mary
continued, oblivious to her customers' discomfort. "We should be
able to squeak these in just before we close. You two kids come
back in an hour and your new glasses will be waiting."

Scully returned Mary's smile with a forced version of her own.
She turned to say something to Mulder but found he had already
left the chair and was perusing the mens frames again. She
admired the way his jeans hugged his lower body, bunching then
stretching as he moved, pulling across his back side...

She sighed and walked to the womens frames, her fingers brushing
against a pair of silver frames with small, round lenses. A wisp
of hot breath danced near her ear. She tensed her jaw but her
body remained facing forward.

"You know, Scully," the voice purred, "you could use a new pair
of frames yourself."

The corners of her mouth curled into a smile. "You think?"

"Oh yeah," he whispered. "It's time to move on to something new.
Something more adventurous." His nose brushed her cheek as he
moved in closer. "More aggressive."

She forced down the avalanche of shivers traveling the length of
her spine. Her eyes closed involuntarily and her breathing fell
in rhythm with his. His breath hitched, then the low rumble of
his voice filled her ear.

"But I don't think you should change frame styles, either.
They're so... you. I love... the way you look in them."

And then he was gone.

After what seemed an eternity, but was in actuality mere seconds,
Scully felt stable enough to leave the store. She caught a
glimpse of him, several paces ahead and heading into the food
court.

So, he wanted to play games. Well then, let the games begin. A
sly grin tugged at her lips.

*Get ready to scatter, dustbunnies.*


THE END