I Was a Transvestite for the FBI
I Was a Transvestite for the FBI
Title: I Was a Transvestite for the FBI
Pairing (Primary): Skinner/Krycek
Pairing(s) (Secondary): Other Pairing
Crossover Fandom (if any):
Crossover Info (if any):
Other Pairing Info: Mulder/Scully
Permission to Archive: Yes to DitB, anyone else just ask first
Series or Sequel/Prequel:
Notes: Contains authorized abuse of pantyhose. If the implied death of a political leader disturbs, don't worry it's only silly fiction.
Disclaimer: This is not the biography of J. Edgar Hoover
"Agent Mulder!" Skinner's voice thundered in his office and beyond, reaching all the way to the corridors of power. "You will put on that get-up and that wig and I won't hear another word of complaint out of you."
"What did I just say?"
Mulder looked at Skinner's hands planted on his hips and bowed his head.
"All right," he muttered. "I just don't understand why Krycek can't do it. He's much prettier than I am."
"I'll admit Alex is beautiful, but you were personally chosen for the assignment this year."
Walter's dark eyes glittered with amusement.
"That's not important," Walter snapped. "Besides," he said gently, "you should be proud, it's an honor."
Alex knocked on the half open door and entered.
"Hey Mulder, I brought your stuff. Want me to give you a hand?"
"Sure," Mulder said resignedly.
Alex began to clap.
"Let's get you into drag."
"Why couldn't Scully do this? She's a woman!"
Mulder sighed with exasperation. His second partner led him away to change.
Mulder groused while he undressed. He was down to boxers and a sulky pout when Walter and Scully came to observe Krycek's handiwork. Mulder wore a padded bra, a little satin champagne colored piece from Victoria's secret. Mulder turned away from Scully's prying eyes as he struggled into a pair of tight panties. His butt jiggled as he bounced up and down.
"Mulder it's not like I haven't see you before," she complained.
"You've never seen me in women's underwear before."
"Yeah, she has, remember last New Year's Eve, Mulder?" Alex asked.
Mulder blushed ten shades of red.
"That was just a bet I had going with the Lone Gunmen," he muttered.
Alex handed him the pantyhose. Mulder looked at them with dread, pulling at the beige, dangling legs until they were on the verge of ripping.
"Hey we only have a few pairs. Take it easy," Alex admonished.
They went through three pairs. Mulder stretched and ripped each one as he twisted and pulled and ripped through the nylons with his long fingers. Alex slapped Mulder's hands away when he grabbed the last pair. With Skinner's help, Alex got Mulder's legs into the hose. They hiked them carefully up his hips.
Try as they might, as hard as they pulled up, the crotch of the hose hung two feet below Mulder's manhood.
"Maybe that's how they're supposed to hang," Alex said and shrugged.
Scully frowned and shook her head
"Are they one size?" she asked.
Alex consulted the package insert.
"You should have bought thigh highs."
"Um, yeah, with a garter belt," Skinner rasped. His baritone voice was smooth as twenty five year old scotch and just as smoky.
He shrugged apologetically and turned worried brown eyes in the direction of his jealous lover.
"Sorry, you have great legs, Mulder."
"Next year it's your turn!" Mulder shrieked and pointed his finger at Alex.
Alex turned his big green eyes to Scully.
"Hey don't look at me. I did it last year," she said darkly.
Alex turned to Walter and fluttered his thick lashes at his boss and boyfriend.
"Don't look at me Alex. If you get picked next year you'll have to go through with it. It's a presidential order."
Alex knew Walter had a little pull with the guy in the oval office. He'd work on Walter later. Maybe a fuck over his desk top or a blowjob that'd make his head explode. There was always his secret weapon if all else failed. Walter had once told him that his eye lashes fluttering all over his naked body felt like butterflies attacking him. They turned him on like nothing else. Alex smiled arrogantly. He had a whole year to get out of it.
"A little help here," Mulder prompted.
They got him into the tight champagne colored dress. Mulder pushed up his fake boobs and adjusted his crotch. Scully frowned. She helped him with the wig and make up. The lipstick was a classic Revlon red. Scully brushed his eyebrows and applied a pale auburn powder to color them just right, then fluffed them up with brow gel. A touch of cream blush, some mascara and a dusting of pale eye shadow finished his face. Alex put on the finishing touch-a beauty mark above his lipsticked mouth.
"Go get him, tiger," Alex teased. He pushed Mulder out the door.
The limo came to pick them up and swiftly sped them away to their destination.
Mulder got up on stage and the spotlight highlighted him standing in front of the podium. He leaned in a little and began to sing "happy birthday" in an off-key voice. It was a poor substitution of the original breathy rendition.
The audience twittered with laughter. Its intended target squirmed nervously in his chair. His wife smiled widely, enjoying the spectacle.
Mulder did his best to look sexy. He pushed his sultry lip out and wiggled his bare shoulders to the delight of the crowd. The president squirmed, trying to hide a noticeable bulge in his slacks. After all, he reasoned, that special agent Mulder was a sexy guy.
High up in the rafters stood Spender. He watched the scene unfold with a smile on his wrinkled face. Agent Mulder was no Marilyn. He wasn't even a Monica for that matter, but he certainly was a distraction. He lifted the telescopic rifle to his shoulder and before he squeezed off the fatal shot, he could have sworn that Hilary winked at him before she slid away from Bill just a tiny bit.
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