TITLE: "Picture Perfect"
AUTHOR: Kirsten Kerkhof * kirsten_xf@yahoo.com    
RATING: PG  
CLASSIFICATION: Mulder/Scully Romance    
CATEGORY: S R H  -- Just fluff
DISCLAIMER: Mulder, Scully and Skinner aren't mine. 
Chrissie is though.
SPOILERS: None  
FEEDBACK: As always! A Mulder is the reward!
SUMMARY: Mulder has his pictures taken and Scully 
gets in trouble with her feelings as a result of that.
NOTE: I saw my 1999 DD calendar I had lying around in 
my room and began to imagine what would happen if Mulder 
would do a photo shoot and Scully would get to see 
the result.
  
XxXxXxXxXxXxX
'Picture Perfect'
by Kirsten Kerkhof
XxXxXxXxXxXxX

	His first instinct had been to say no. As had his 
second and third. No no no, not for all the money in the 
world was he going to let his cousin take him for her 
assignment. He didn't give a damn just how important 
this assignment was to her or that this was the only 
opportunity for her to stay top of her class or just how 
attractive she thought he was. Well, he didn't really 
mind that last bit upon careful reconsideration, but it 
was the point, the principle of the thing that mattered. 
And no no no, there was no way in hell that he was 
going to let her take his picture.
	He hated having his picture taken. Hated it with a 
vengeance that knew no bounds. The annual photo shoot 
at the Bureau in order to keep the personal files updated 
was reason enough for him to suddenly and 
mysteriously develop a rare case of facial skin 
inflammation which so inexplicably happened to 
coincide with that particular event. And he might even 
have pulled it off a couple of times if he hadn't been 
assigned a doctor partner who was very rapid at 
concluding that the only treatment for this condition was 
an enema - the benefit of which eluded him completely 
considering they were talking about an illness that 
limited itself to the face - and the effect was invariably 
the same: he'd rather have his picture taken than 
experience his partner's more sinister, sadistic sides.
	But Chrissie - the cousin in question - had 
proven to be a very persuasive young woman and maybe 
his vanity had taken over as well after about an hour of 
non-stop flattery from her and her mother, whom he 
hadn't seen since he was nineteen and who was so 
obviously pleasantly surprised at just how handsome a 
man he'd become and how much it pained her to learn 
that he had still not found the right woman and so on 
and so on. Conclusion: after that hour he'd foolishly 
promised Chrissie that he would volunteer to have his 
picture taken, but under no conditions would there be 
more than five taken and he was most certainly not 
going to behave in some artistically correct manner and 
if the photos turned out bad, well, she would just have to 
live with that.
	Chrissie's only answer had been an enigmatic 
smile. Now where had he seen that one before?
	"Fox," she'd said, "these picture will be lovely. 
And you're going to love it. Trust me."
	"You know I never trust anyone," he'd answered, 
smiling wryly. "And besides, couldn't you have taken 
one of your friends to model?"
	"And not take advantage of what Nature gave me 
as so close a relative? Gimme a break!"

XxXxX

	When Scully entered their infamous basement 
office, she was more or less expecting Mulder to be 
there. But evidently he wasn't.
	"Mulder?"
	Receiving no answer she dropped her stuff on her 
desk - well, her part of their shared desk of course - and 
noticed the yellow post-it on the computer monitor.

	'S,
	Had to run an errand for that BSU consult. Will 
bring you lunch from Pietro's.
	M'

	She smiled. Pizza. Suppose she could manage 
pizza for lunch, just resign herself to salads for the next 
couple of days and run an extra mile in the morning.
	She sat down in Mulder's chair and noticed the 
brown A-4 sized envelope on the desk. She picked it up 
and examined it, but there was nothing she could deduce 
from the exterior, apart from that it was addressed to 
'Fox Mulder'. No mentioning of his position as an 
Agent, even though it was addressed to the FBI 
building. And it was sealed as well.
	Curiosity won over privacy and she tore open the 
envelope, letting the contents spill into her hand. She 
expected it to be another file or maybe information he'd 
received from one of his countless obscure and elusive 
sources or contacts, but what she did see was quite 
enough to make her abandon all of those ideas as soon 
as she got a closer look at the first photo. Well, well, 
these were most certainly no crime pictures although it 
might easily be considered a crime what this pictures did 
to her insides. And she didn't even need a good look, 
just the faintest glimpse was quite enough to stop her 
heart - and then send it racing like mad as she gripped 
the arm rest in shock.
	Jesus, Mary Mother of God! How on earth could 
she never have seen this ... this ... she didn't even know 
the word for it ... But he was ... He was beautiful. She 
couldn't stop looking at them, never wanted to stop 
looking at them, she absolutely had to look at each and 
every one of them. They were quite enough to fill a 
whole lifetime of fantasies about--...
	But then she heard her partner return and she 
hastily put the pictures back in the envelope, placing it 
on his desk just the way she'd found it. She just prayed 
Mulder wouldn't suspect anything.
	"Ha, Scully, you in the mood for pizza today? It's 
from Pietro's", he smiled, the smell of cheese, tomato, 
salami and other toppings seductively caressing her 
nostrils. His smile faded quickly though. "What's 
wrong, Scully? You look flushed."
	She shook her head, trying with all her might to 
keep her cool. Come on, she should be able to do that, 
she was a trained and experienced federal agent ... 
	"No, I just ...", she tried, but her thoughts were 
against her. Just ... what, Dana? Just ... almost came as 
you eagerly drooled all over those pictures? Just ... find 
it incredibly hard to keep yourself from throwing 
yourself at your unsuspecting partner? Just ... can't wait 
to have him look at you the way he does in those 
damned pictures? "I don't know, Mulder. Maybe it's the 
change in temperature after I came in from the labs."
	Mulder smiled and Scully tried to read his smile. 
Did he suspect her? If he did, he was certainly doing a 
good job hiding it from her. "Yeah, suppose old 
Ebenezer Skinner decided that after keeping us on the 
job over Christmas we did deserve a few extra coals for 
the fire."
	She nodded. "Sure, must be it. Carbonara?"
	He smiled as he made a show of presenting her 
with her pizza. "Your favourite, Scully, wouldn't dare 
giving you anything but the best."
	She smiled at him and took a big bite, the melted 
cheese and tomato sauce dripping down her chin.
	"Hey, Scully, have you had your picture taken 
yet?" he asked, surprised to see her choke on her pizza.
	She shook her head as she tried to recover from 
her coughs. "No," she mumbled, "excuse me." And she 
stormed out of the office, leaving behind a very 
confused Mulder.

XxXxX

	"Come on, Fox, we're almost finished," Chrissie 
said exasperated, witnessing her sulking cousing. "And 
wipe off that irritated expression, you're ruining my 
pictures!"
	"Chrissie, correct me if I'm wrong, but I seem to 
remember talking about five photos. You've taken 
hundreds!" he protested.
	She smiled the smile of a woman who is used to 
getting her ways. "But you're fabulous, Fox! I couldn't 
just limit myself to a lousy five pictures, now could I?"
	He looked at the next items she'd selected for him 
to wear. It baffled him just where she'd gotten all those 
outfits from. Did her school keep a separate wardrobe or 
something, specially for occasions like these? It sure 
looked like it. He picked up the black leather gloves and 
the red jacket from the chair behind him.
	"Leather, Chrissie? Isn't this a little ..."
	Her smile widened. "You'll look fantastic in 
those, Fox. And when you see the photos you'll be so 
happy you did it."

XxXxX

	Scully paced nervously around in the bathroom. 
Jesus, what was going on here? Oh, she knew very well 
what was going on here: she'd almost lost it over those 
pictures. Completely and utterly lost it.
	But those pictures. Was the man in those photos - 
that undeniably gorgeous hunk of a man - really the 
same man she'd spent the past seven years working 
with? It was, there was no question about it, it was him, 
it was Mulder. After all, why else would that envelope 
have been on his desk and besides she would know him 
in a crowd of millions. But Mulder hated having his 
picture taken, didn't he? Didn't he?
	She'd been enduring his childish behaviour for as 
long as she'd known him, trying to conquer that innate 
aversion to cameras for the benefit of the FBI having 
another mugshot of them to add to the collection; but 
this man, this guy in the pictures, was someone whom 
not only the camera loved, but who very clearly loved 
the camera. Or how else could he have looked into the 
lens that way?
	She leaned her hands on the sink and stared at her 
reflection in the mirror. God, she was indeed flushed. 
'Post-coital, Dana?' she asked her image and couldn't 
help a sorry smile. For someone so reputedly in control 
of her own emotions, she'd proven decidedly easy to 
lose all of her precious equilibrium over a couple of 
pictures. And what the most gruesome, blood-churning 
crime-scene photos could never accomplish - make her 
lose her cool and calm exterior - was embarrassingly 
easily achieved by those brief glimpses at an unexpected 
side of her partner.
	Closing her eyes, she tried to recall what she'd 
seen. She could recall very little, but it was the look in 
his eyes that seemed to be permanently engraved on her 
brain, that same pair of unbelievably beautiful eyes 
she'd always known she would kill for, but that had now 
just ... just ...
	"Turned you on, Dana?" she whispered at her 
reflection in the bathroom mirror. And, God, had they 
ever ... She was aroused, and not a little bit either, as 
embarrassing as it was to have to admit it. And what was 
even more embarrassing, probably, was that she needed, 
absolutely needed to have another look at those pictures.

XxXxX

	Mulder inwardly cursed his cousin when he saw 
the envelope with the pictures lying on his desk. And it 
was opened as well, probably by security to check for 
any suspicious parcels arriving in the mail. He could 
imagine all too well how the entire staff was currently 
having such a damn good laugh - not to mention the 
gossip that no doubt went around at the secretarial pool 
right now - at Spooky's latest stunt.
	And the most regrettable part was that while the 
whole staff had undoubtedly seen everything, the one 
person he wouldn't have minded having a peek, was 
totally oblivious to the photos' existence ...
	Or was she? Scully had undoubtedly been acting 
strangely today, but ... He shook his head. Scully would 
never open any of his personal mail. Considering how 
much time they spent together already, whatever privacy 
remained to one another was respected above all. 
Personal mail had number one priority.
	He took a look at the glossy ten by eights and 
couldn't help a smile. For all the torture the photo shoot 
had been to him and for all the nuisance he'd been to his 
cousin, the result was rather pleasing, he had to admit 
that. Chrissie clearly had talents he hadn't noticed in her 
before. After all, if she could draw this from a guy like 
him, what fabulous results would she be able to get with 
a professional model?
	But he knew also that Chrissie had had ulterior 
motives. And her sending the photos to the office 
instead of to his apartment was even more of a clue, as 
he wryly remembered the heated am-not-are-too 
discussion he and Chrissie had had whether or not he 
and Scully were actually romantically involved - she no 
doubt hoped these pictures would do the trick - and 
even though he wouldn't mind Scully seeing them, he 
had no idea how to get her to look at them. She would 
never ever take a look without his permission, and he 
was too bloody chicken to ask her to look.
	Flipping through them he had to admit that they 
were all right to show to Scully, though - as he quickly 
disposed of the one with the tea pot which he had 
absolutely no intention of showing to his partner - and 
he might even just make it look like he just did this for 
fun. For fun? He shook his head. She'd never fall for 
that excuse. Not from him anyway. And how would she 
react to them? Was she going to laugh - he preferred 
one of those treasured Scully smiles - or frown, raising 
one of her lethal eyebrows - 'Please, God, I haven't 
pissed you off that badly, have I?' - or what would she 
do? He didn't know.
	He sighed and picked up the finished report on 
the consult he and Scully had done for the BSU, ready to 
hand to Skinner. If he was indeed about to piss off his 
partner he might as well have their boss to back him up.

XxXxX

	Scully returned to an empty office, she noticed to 
her great relief. And to her even greater relief she also 
noticed that he hadn't put away those pictures she 
needed to see so badly.
	She grabbed the envelope and pulled out its 
contents. She sighed and smiled in satisfaction as she 
once more got to look at her partner at his, no doubt 
about that, very best.
	Obviously the first picture had been taken quite 
early in the photo shoot and he was as Agent Mulder as 
she knew him - except, she noticed, that he was smiling, 
a smile so free of worries - almost innocent somehow - 
that it melted her heart. What could it have been he'd 
been thinking of at the time? She didn't know, couldn't 
- wouldn't - believe that maybe it had been her he'd 
been thinking of. Nah, couldn't be, she was pretty sure 
Mulder didn't look at her that way. Partners, best of 
friends, sure, but nothing more than that.
	She put the photo aside and sucked in a quick 
breath at the next one. There was absolutely nothing 
innocent about those eyes now, she realised, as her heart 
started to pound wildly. Jesus Christ ... She wondered 
where he'd gotten the dark red shirt from, she'd never 
seen him in it. She just had to ask him.
	Quickly, before she lost it for good, she moved to 
the next picture, biting back a moan as she saw it.

XxXxX

	He couldn't believe it. This report, which he 
thought was as good as any report he'd ever handed in, 
had been ripped apart by Skinner so wide the 
Mississippi could flow in it and get lost, and 
consequently he was going to have to do it all over 
again. Worse even, he knew what Scully's comment was 
going to be: she was going to tell him he should have let 
her write it - as usual - or let her go over the finished 
product - as usual - or at least let her do the reasoning 
and scientific explaining before handing it to Skinner - 
as usual. He didn't like the idea of having to tell her how 
their boss had had such a good laugh over what they'd 
spent hours working on. Scully was going to be so 
pissed off.
	Although he had to admit she was awfully sexy 
when pissed off ... Maybe he could lure her with ... nah, 
those pictures weren't going to help him. Scully didn't 
look at him that way. If there was anything in this world 
he was fairly sure of, it was that she didn't have eyes for 
him. Sadly. But if under those conditions they could 
remain partners and friends then that was the way it was 
going to stay. Their friendship meant everything to him.
	"Scully, you're not going to like what Skinner 
had to say about the rep--..."
	Now there was a change of plan if he ever saw 
one, he realised as he opened the door to the office and 
saw his partner obviously deeply immersed in what he 
knew were most definitely no crime-scene pictures. 
Thank God for the foresight to get rid of the tea pot 
photo. On the other hand ...
	"See anything you like, Agent Scully?" he 
smiled, seeing her start and drop the pictures when she 
heard his voice behind her.
	"Mulder! I ... I didn't ... This is ... I ..."
	Scully was stammering? Maybe those pictures 
did affect her in a way he hadn't expected from her. He 
walked up to her and picked the photos up from the 
floor.
	"You like them, Scully?" he asked. He knew he 
had a decision to make right here, a choice: he could 
make some lame innuendo - which she undoubtedly 
expected - and get a snappy retort as she quickly shot 
back into her impenetrable armoured control, or he 
could be honest with her and let fate decide where this 
would take them.
	He opted for the latter option. He took the 
pictures and went through them.
	"My cousin Chrissie, my mom's sister's kid, 
asked me to help her do her assignment. She's studying 
in New York to become some kind of photographer and 
asked me to model for her latest assignment."
	Scully looked at him, less flustered than she'd 
been when he first walked in. "But I thought you hated 
having your picture taken."
	He grinned as he studied one of the snap shots. "I 
do. And just how she tricked me into doing this may 
well be our next X-File." He turned to her and handed 
her the pictures. "So, as you've clearly had a look 
already, which one do you like best?"
	"I have to make a choice?"
	That comment made him look. She wasn't 
smiling. He nodded slowly. "Yes, if you want to. I want 
you to choose your favourite."
	"Can I keep that one then?"
	She was puzzling him. "Yeah, sure. It's not like 
I'm going to frame them and hang them in my living 
room."
	"You should keep--...", Scully began, but she 
shook her head as she started going through them one by 
one, sometimes quite quickly, while others were 
submitted to a more careful  examination. After a couple 
of minutes she seemed to have made up her mind.
	"This one." She handed him the picture she'd 
chosen. It was one Chrissie had taken as part of a dozen 
pictures while he was still dressed the way he'd left 
work that afternoon. Before the fancy dress party had 
begun. And before he'd realised what he'd gotten 
himself into.
	"Really?" He didn't know whether or not he was 
surprised at her choice.
	She nodded. "The others are ..." She seemed to 
find it difficult to describe what she was feeling. "The 
others aren't you," she finally said in a soft voice, "not 
as I know you anyway ..." She went through the 
remaining pictures again. "But ..."
	Mulder smiled. "You like them, don't you?"
	Scully looked at him. "I ..." She shook her head, 
making him move to stand before her. He placed his 
forefinger under her chin to make her look at him.
	"What?" he whispered. She didn't answer and he 
saw her move away from him even though she wasn't 
physically moving. "Don't withdraw from me now, 
Scully. Tell me what you're thinking. Please ..."
	She bit her bottom lip. "Mulder, I can't ... Don't 
..."
	He smiled at her a bit sadly, his hand smoothing 
over her cheek. "I'll tell you what I think you're 
thinking, and if I'm wrong you can tell me so and I 
won't hold it against you, okay? We risk nothing 
because what I'm about to tell you is what I'm feeling 
and what I think you're feeling too."
	Her eyes warmed considerably in invitation, but 
she said nothing, still unsure, still afraid.
	"When you looked at those pictures, you realised 
something that was there inside you," Mulder began his 
profiling. "Realised that in spite of everything the FBI 
taught us and everything you and I ever agreed upon 
when we first began working together, you felt restricted 
by the walls and boundaries between us. And those 
photos sparked a desire for more, a desire we always 
knew was sizzling inside of us, which is why we erected 
those walls in the first place." He took a deep breath, 
loosely taking her face in his hands. "And what you 
really want is to break free, forget about your priceless 
control and recklessly and thoughtlessly surrendering to 
the emotions you feel when we're together. Be Dana 
Scully instead of Agent Scully." He let go of her face, 
but remained standing before her, taking, however, a 
step back to give her more space.
	"Now tell me that I'm wrong ... That I've just 
made the biggest fool of myself."
	She smiled unsurely. "Do you really believe 
you're wrong?"
	He shook his head. "No, I just can't believe I 
might be right ..."
	Scully picked up the empty envelope. "Mulder, I 
have a confession to make."
	"What's that?"
	"I opened the envelope. I know I shouldn't have, 
but my curiosity got the best of me when I could find no 
sender's name or address."
	To her surprise Mulder began to laugh. "Thank 
God for that," he said. "So it wasn't security or some 
secretary who opened the mail."
	She smiled. "Now that would've jumpstarted the 
gossip mill, wouldn't it?" She grew more serious. 
"Mulder, with those pictures, did you try to ... seduce 
me?"
	He shook his head. "No, I didn't. But you did 
come into the picture, so to speak, as far as the photo 
shoot is concerned."
	"How?"
	"Chrissie, my cousin, wanted me to look at the 
camera as if I was trying to seduce the person taking the 
picture. As if I was flirting with the woman behind the 
camera. I couldn't. I just couldn't look at her that way. I 
guess it's because of my inexperience as far as cameras 
are concerned."
	"The pictures don't betray that," Scully said 
softly. "You look quite ... well ..."
	He smiled. "I found a way," he replied.
	"You did? How?"
	"I envisioned it was you who was taking the 
photos," he answered. "And that I had to seduce you, 
make you react without making you flee."
	Scully blushed slightly at his confession.
	"Guess I could live out one of my fantasies that 
way, even though it, well, didn't quite end the way my 
fantasies usually end," Mulder added. He knew he was 
treading on dangerous ground now, but it was now or 
never. He'd started and this was his chance to finish all.
	"You have fantasies about me taking your 
picture?" Scully asked.
	"Among others, yeah. How about you?"
	She smiled quite comfortably. "Well, cameras 
have never really featured, but ..." She looked across the 
office, her eyes coming to rest on that infamous poster 
of his. Believe it, Dana. Believe what he's telling you, 
believe what you're feeling. "Mulder, if you tried to 
seduce me with those pictures ..." She took a deep 
breath. "Then you passed with flying colours."
	He grinned. "I did?" he replied as he sat down 
next to her.
	She nodded and turned her head, just when he did 
the same. And then, for reasons she'd need ages to work 
out, she leaned in and kissed him.
	"So," Mulder said when they broke the kiss after 
a few minutes. He was smiling, she saw to her relief and 
couldn't help smiling as well. "Did this ...?"
	"This can all be blamed on those pictures," she 
smiled.
	"Damn, I'm better than I thought!" he grinned. 
"But you did like them, didn't you?"
	"Oh, Mulder," she sighed, "what's not to like? 
You're beautiful."
	That was rewarded by a toothy smile. "Thank 
you," he answered, "but beauty wasn't all that was to it, 
was it?"
	Scully took his hands in her own. "Mulder, I'll 
confess this to you right here and now or I'll never do it: 
I've wanted you since the day we met. And you were 
right when you told me what you thought I was 
thinking. But I find it hard to relinquish my control," she 
added softly. "I need to be so strong to get the respect I 
need to do my job."
	"I will probably never truly understand what you 
have to do to survive in the boys'club that is the FBI, 
but I do understand how hard you have to fight. How 
hard you've always had to fight for respect. I do respect 
you, Scully, you know that, don't you?" She nodded. He 
smiled and continued. "And I know by now that, after 
all we've been through, we've survived solely because 
we can depend on each other so much. And I also 
believe that this respect and trust and loyalty can exist 
even if our relationship is to become more than 
professional."
	"You want us to get involved?"
	He didn't answer immediately. "I've always 
wanted that," he answered, "but then again I'm just me."
	Scully chuckled. "Well, maybe you are right and 
maybe we can risk it." She let her fingers softly stroke 
his hands. Then she let go. "Today's the last day of the 
Bureau's photo shoot. Have you had your mugshot 
taken yet?"
	He grinned at her choice of words. "I've had 
pictures taken, yes."
	The look in her eyes was amused. "I don't think," 
she answered, "that Skinner would approve of those."
	"Well, you never know. I'm tempted to show 
them to him anyway."
	She smiled. "I don't think I'd want to be present 
when that happens ..."

FINIS

Kirsten Kerkhof
The Netherlands, 7-1-2001 (c)