************************************************************************************* Subject: NEW > Jeans & Fishnets < (2/4) Date: Thu, 7 Sep 1995 19:45:03 -0500 (CDT) _The X-Files_: all characters copyright Chris Carter and Ten Thirteen Productions. They shouldn't have made up something so cool if they didn't want us to write fan fiction about it. However, i don't really want to upset them, so no infringement upon their copyrights is intended. Blue Jeans and Fishnet Stockings (2/4) An X-Files Story by Summer Between them, they had diminished the pile of papers to a thin stack when Mulder's stomach began reminding him how long it had been since breakfast. "Next time, we've got to keep the budget up to date," Scully groaned, pulling her glasses off. "Procrastinating just makes it that much harder once we finally get to it." "Who's been procrastinating? We've been busy," he pointed out. "I know, I know. I don't even want to think about how long this would've taken me on my own. Thanks, Mulder." "My pleasure." He stretched and rubbed his eyes. "How much more do you think we have?" "Shouldn't take much more than half an hour to finish up." "I don't know about you, but I'm starving. I propose we take a break and make a run for the border." "Taco Hell? Do you know what those preservatives and fillers do to your body, Mulder? I have some autopsy pictures if you'd like to find out." "Thanks, but no. What do you suggest?" "How about an expedition to the grocery store? I'll fix-- oh, dammit, I forgot about the breakfast dishes!" Mulder shrugged. "So wait 'til after lunch and we can do all the dishes at once." "We?" "Sure. If you're going to go to the trouble of making dinner, the least I can do is help clean up." "You helped with the budget, you're helping with the dishes..." She grinned slyly. "Good karma, huh?" "I'd really like to see it, Scully." "An exercise in futility." "Story of my life," he answered cheerily. Scully closed up her laptop and put it aside. "Okay, a compromise. When we get the groceries, we'll rent Rocky Horror so you can see the original movie." "But I don't get to watch your tape?" "Would you really wear fishnets to work?" she countered. "That sounds suspiciously like a dare," he grinned, eyes sparkling. "If I do, can I see it?" Scully laughed. "No, it's not a dare, and you're not getting the tape no matter what bizarre stunt you pull, so don't try it..." "I'm telling you, Scully, I won't give up. I'll bug you about it until I get to see it." "And if I let you see it, you'll bug me about it until I go postal at you," she retorted. "Forget it!" Scully stood up and rolled her shoulders, yawning. "Now that you brought it up, I'm getting hungry too. Let's go." "What does your T-shirt say?" Mulder asked, shutting off the stereo as she grabbed her purse. She straightened the front; her shirt featured a large drawing of roughly cartooned women soaring on feathery wings in the air. The caption was a little hard to read. Scully told him, "Women fly when men aren't looking." "They do?" "That's what the shirt says." "Cute. I like it. Where'd you get it?" "Melissa gave this to me for Christmas." Scully laughed. "This, and a book about finding your perfect mate through psychic attunation. Just like her to give me a man-hunting book and a feminist T-shirt at the same time. Thank you," she said as Mulder opened the door for her. "And then she gave me that James CD. I was sure I'd hate it, but it's one of my favorite albums now. Two out of three ain't bad," she concluded as she turned her key in the lock. "Well, if you liked two of her presents, why not give the third one a chance? I'm guessing you haven't actually read it or anything like that." "Psychic attunation?" Scully eyed him warily as they got into his car. "Don't tell me you think it's valid." "I think you could look at it," he said as he ducked his head and folded himself into the driver's seat. "Mulder! Those jeans--" He paused. "What?" Scully waved a discreet hand at them. "The seam is out," she scolded. He scrutinized his jeans; the inner seam of the left leg had given, leaving a small tear halfway up his thigh. "That? That's nothing." Mulder smirked and seized the denim, carefully tugging until the hole gaped down to his knee. Scully shook her head disapprovingly. "If you're going to do that, why not just cut the legs off?" "Got a pair of scissors?" She pressed her lips together again, this time with bemused irritation. "Just drive, Mulder." He fumbled with the keys. "Anyway. Why not give Melissa's methods a shot? Your sister's out there, but she's really pretty shrewd. It must run in your family." "Chores AND flattery? Mulder, I'll never let you see that tape just so you'll keep being this accommodating when I dangle it in front of you," Scully grinned. "Carrot on a stick?" "Whatever works." He started the car. "What's up, Doc." He moved to push his tape into the car stereo; it had popped out automatically when the car was turned off. "Wait--" Scully held up her hand and turned up the radio. "I love this song." He shrugged affably and drove, listening and casting an occasional sidelong look at his partner as she nodded in time with the music. "The angel opens her eyes, the confusion sets in before the doctor can even close the door. Lightning crashes, an old mother dies. Her intentions fall to the floor. The angel closes her eyes. The confusion that was hers belongs now to the baby down the hall. Oh, I feel it coming back again, like a rolling thunder chasing the wind, forces spooling from the center of the earth again, I can feel it..." "What did you have in here, anyway?" Scully shuffled through his tape tray and came up with the empty case. "Warren Zevon?" "One of the most underrated singer/songwriters around. No one listens to really GOOD music," Mulder told her. She rooted around in the tray again. "Peter Gabriel... Elvis Costello... Enigma... Pink Floyd... Dead Can Dance... XTC... Nine Inch Nails?" she asked distastefully. "What's wrong with Nine Inch Nails?" "I've only ever heard the song about `you bring me closer to God'. It didn't impress me." "That's a great song," he asserted. "Great album. Great musician." "I'll take your word for it. 10,000 Maniacs, huh?" Mulder rounded the corner and slowed to coast into the supermarket parking lot. "You have every Verdi opera on CD. There's no accounting for taste." "I wasn't criticizing, Mulder-- I happen to like 10,000 Maniacs." He zipped into a parking spot and shut down, unhooking his seat belt with one hand while he twirled his keys in the other. "I wasn't criticizing either. Just an observation. I did notice one CD we have in common." "Oh?" Scully pivoted and slid her legs out of the car, feeling momentarily childish until she stretched enough to get her feet on the ground. "Sarah McLachlan." "I have Dark Side of the Moon on cassette," she said. "And I like the Smiths. See?" He hit the power lock and firmly shut the car door. "No accounting for taste. So what role-playing game did you play in college?" "What?" Scully bent to pick up a crumpled soda can from the cracked asphalt, dropping it into the trash can by the entrance as they went inside. "You mentioned that everyone ends up playing an RPG in college. What'd you play?" "Oh! Dungeons and Dragons. Ravenloft. I was a vampire." Scully wrestled a shopping basket out of the rack, then turned to her partner, who was staring at her, frozen. "Mulder? What is it?" He looked stricken, gazing at her impenetrably. "Are you okay?" she asked uneasily. He shook it off with visible effort. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just-- had a weird second there." She clearly wasn't convinced, but thankfully Scully didn't push him; she just nodded, then touched his arm, lightly guiding him to the first aisle. "Sure you're okay? You look pretty shaken up." He shrugged, regarded her with veiled eyes-- signals she'd learned to interpret over the months as indicative of pain and protectiveness. Often she saw all too much of both in him. "Hey," she said softly, just letting her voice and her eyes tell him she was there for him. Mulder dredged up a smile. "I picked a great place to have a breakdown, huh." "You're entitled," Scully assured him. The quiet strength and compassion Mulder had come to depend on from her straightened his shoulders now. "Okay. I'm okay now." He summoned another crooked smile. "And I'm still starving. Let's get some food." Mulder wasn't much for shopping. He amused himself by psychoanalysing people according to the contents of their carts while his partner accumulated various items and stacked them in the basket he carried. Scully dropped something into his hands. "You can snack on those while I'm making lunch, since you're so famished," she reasoned as he rattled the plastic bag of sunflower seeds. "Just don't leave the hulls all over the place." "I'll be good," he promised as he followed her to the condiments section. "So what are we having, Chef Scully?" "Lemon pepper chicken sandwiches," she answered, selecting a jar of honey mustard sauce from the shelf. "So healthy, your arteries will probably go into shock." "Healthy?" His face screwed up with exaggerrated disgust. "I don't do healthy." "It's really good. You won't even notice that it's good for you. My mom used to make these a lot, and my brothers loved them." "Your brothers are in the armed forces, Scully. They like anything they don't have to stand in line for." "The menu is non-negotiable," she smiled. "But we'll splurge on popcorn." "Popcorn is a splurge?" he asked incredulously, tromping over to the microwaveables. "I thought it was one of the four food groups." Scully guessed, "Popcorn, pizza, frozen dinners, and...?" "Chinese takeout. What's this? Sacrilege!" "What?" "Healthy popcorn!" Mulder mourned. "Low fat, low sodium, low everything." He shook the box. "There shouldn't be anything IN this." "Sort of like Diet Caffeine-Free Mountain Dew, huh?" "Oh, you can joke, it's you and your minions who're responsible for pillaging the shelves in the name of staying healthy." "Calm down, Mulder. We're getting unhealthy popcorn. Now where's the Redenbacher's Movie Theater kind? It's in a yellow package." He scanned the shelves. "Hey, there's some cheese popcorn on the bottom shelf," he noticed. "I didn't know they had that for microwaves." "How much is it?" Scully asked, comparing prices on the two boxes in her hands. "Can't tell..." Mulder dropped to a squat to find out. The move was accompanied by a nasty ripping sound. He bolted straight upright at once and whirled around, then tilted his head back and deliberately banged it against the shelf a few times. "I hope for your sake that was the knees of your jeans tearing open further--" Scully suppressed a chuckle. It was pretty clear from his expression that he hadn't fared so well as that. "If only I were that lucky." Mulder's mouth drew up in a gull's-wing shape somewhere between a sneer and a pout. He twisted in an attempt to assess the damage. "I can't really tell how bad it is..." Scully counted to ten, holding in a massive fit of giggles. She mustered her most clinical, professional tone. "Let me see." Mulder ran his hands over his reddening face and complied. Scully clapped a hand over her mouth. The seam had split right down the middle of the seat of his jeans, revealing bright red fabric decorated with classic Mickey Mouse figures. Mulder hastily backed up against the shelves again. "Well?" "If only you were wearing blue denim boxers." He cringed. Scully shook with restrained merriment until she finally couldn't help herself and let go, gasping with laughter and clutching her arms across her waist. "I'm sorry- - sorry, Mulder--" she choked out past convulsive giggles. "It's just--" "Oh, I know," he said grimly, "it's hilarious. By all means, enjoy the moment. My misfortune is your entertainment." That only made her laugh harder. Mulder watched as she buried her face in her hands. Much as he hated to admit it, she was right. It was funny. A chuckle escaped him. Scully peered up at him through her fingers. He tried to maintain his dour demeanor to no avail-- within moments they were laughing together hopelessly. Mulder slid down the shelves to sit on the floor, drawing his long legs up so as not to block the aisle. Scully knelt beside him, trying to be sympathetic, and instead continued to giggle, her eyes watering. Every time they managed to wind down and get control, they'd look at each other and one of them would lose it again, spurring them both into another bout of laughter. Finally, sides aching, Mulder took a deep breath. "Okay, okay. How am I gonna get out of here?" "Walk," Scully suggested, a few stray giggles still getting out now and then. He shot her a sour look, belied by the snicker that overcame him. "Yeah, well, I don't particularly want to display Mickey and friends to the general public." "I'm sure the general public is grateful for that." Mulder shifted; the lineoleum floor was cold. "Could be worse." "How?" "I could be wearing fishnets and a garter belt." She sniggered. "Could you?" "It's within the realm of possibility. After all, the FBI has a tradition for that sort of thing dating back to J. Edgar Hoover." "Stop," Scully pleaded. "If I laugh any more, I'll die!" "Just don't split a seam," he muttered. She curled up, forehead against her knees, giggles quaking her shoulders. A well-dressed elderly woman wheeled her cart past them, staring disapprovingly. "Don't mind us," Mulder said. "We're just on drugs." The woman hurried away to be replaced by a teenager whose hair was partly shaved off and partly dyed black, hanging long into his face. He was joined by a girl with burgundy-tinted hair; rings rimmed her ears and one delicate gold stud pierced her nose. The kid scratched his chin and tugged at his Nine Inch Nails t- shirt. "You guys okay?" he asked. Scully recovered herself and sighed. "Yeah, thanks. My friend here just had a bit of an accident." "Aoh," the kid said, nonplussed. The girl snapped her gum and nodded toward another aisle. "The Depends are over there," she said helpfully. Mulder leaned his head back, wincing. "Thanks a lot." "Okay, no, really," the girl said, "what happened?" Mulder just shook his head. Scully answered, "His jeans ripped." "Right, well, that's not 'zactly a big deal, I did mine on purpose." The young man indicated the savaged knees of his oversized jeans. "In back," Scully clarified, biting the inside of her lip to keep from laughing again. "Ooooh," the teenager said. "That sucks." "Hang on," said the girl, disappearing around the corner. Mulder looked helplessly at his partner. "What am I gonna do?" The girl returned and brandished a grocery flyer under Mulder's nose. "Here, you can hold that behind your back to cover up," she offered. Mulder accepted the flyer with a very startled, "Thank you!" "No problem," said the girl. She pulled at the young man's arm. "C'mon baby, we gotta get to the Abyss." "Good luck." The teenager lifted a hand to them and left with the girl. Mulder and Scully exchanged surprised looks. "Remind me never again to say a word against America's youth," he said at last. Scully got her feet under her and stood, offering her partner a hand. He took it and hauled himself up, then clasped his hands behind his back holding the flyer. "Will this work?" he asked cautiously. "Looks fine," she assured him. "Good. Let's get out of here." *********************************************************** end of part 2/4